b'-^SERMONS**- \n\n\n\nBY \n\nATTICUS G. HAYGOOD, D.D. \n\nPresident of Emory College, Oxford, Ga. \n\n\n\n\nSouthern Methodist Publishing House, \nTCashville, Temi. \n\n1883. \n\n\n\nTHE LIBRARY \nOF CONGRESS \n\nWASHINGTON \n\n\n\n5+ \n\n\n\nEntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, \nBy the Book Agent of the Publishing House of the M. E. Church, South, \nin the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. \n\n\n\n->SONTENTS.<- \n\nPAGE \n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure 5 \n\nLovick Pierce: 1785-1879 31 \n\nChrist Dwelling in Us 79 \n\nThe New South: Gratitude, Amendment, Hope 103 \n\n"Occupy till I Come" 125 \n\nThe Christian Citizen 147 \n\nGarfield\'s Memory 182 \n\nThe Mind that was in Christ , . 195 \n\nThe Faith that Saves 215 \n\nSt. Paul to Young Men 231 \n\nQuit You Like Men 255 \n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives , 271 \n\nProve All Things , 285 \n\nBaccalaureate Address , 313 \n\nKenneth H. McLain; or, The Christian Student 326 \n\nThe New South from a Southern Stand-point 340 \n\nThe Negro a Citizen , 373 \n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven 392 \n\nThe Life to Come 410 \n\n(3) \n\n\n\nSOLOMON\'S EXPERIMENT AND FAILURE. \n\n[OXFORD, JUNE 1, 1879.-] \n\n\n\n" Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities ; all is \nVanity." Eccles. i. 2. \n\n"Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and \nkeep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man." Eccles. \nxii. 13. \n\nTHE first text tells us what Solomon found the \nworld to be when he had concluded his exper- \niment; the second tells us what, in the sad retro- \nspect, he felt that he ought to have done. The first \nexpresses, in bitterness and despair, his utter disap- \npointment; the second gives us, with an undertone \nof remorse, his solemn conclusion as to the whole \nproblem of human life and destiny. \n\nIt is to a study of " Solomon\'s Experiment and \nFailure" that I invite your attention, young men, \nthis morning. I do so in consideration of the \nmisjudgments to which young men of culture and \nopportunity are peculiarly liable, as to the real sig- \nnificance and the true ends of human life; of the \ndelusions and dangers to which they are exposed; \n\n"*The only principle of arrangement adopted in this volume is \nthat of time ; the sermons and speeches appear here in the order in \nwhich they were delivered, except the last two speeches, which are \nthe only ones not delivered before the students of Emory College \nand the citizens of Oxford. \n\n(5) \n\n\n\n6 \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nand particularly in consideration of some of the \ntendencies and influences peculiar to our times. \n\nSolomon was David\'s son by Bath-sheba, who had \nbeen the wife of Uriah. At the birth of Solomon, \nDavid was about fifty years old. Weary of war and \nworn with trouble, he had come to that period when \nhis inmost soul sighed for peace. No wonder that \nwe hear him sigh, " that I had wings like a dove! \nfor then would I fly away, and be at rest." The \nfather\'s yearning heart read in the calm beauty of \nBath-sheba\'s child a prophecy of peace, and he \nnamed him Shelomah \xe2\x80\x94 Solomon, "the peaceful \none." And Nathan, God\'s faithful prophet and \nDavid\'s life-long friend, when he blessed the child, \ncalled him Jedediah\xe2\x80\x94 " the Lord\'s beloved." Da- \nvid\'s heart of song never reached a higher strain \nthan in the seventy-second Psalm, in which, under \nthe type of the approaching glory of Solomon\'s \nreign, the royal singer, full of prophetic faith and \nhope, depicted the more distant but everlasting glo- \nry of the kingdom of Messiah, the Prince of Peace, \nthe Lord\'s Christ, and the Redeemer of men. Great \nhopes were born in the cradle of this fair child, and \nin his naming, by father and prophet, was a deeper \nand holier feeling than moved the heart of the great \nRoman poet when he sung of the "Saturnian reign \nand eternal spring" that Pollio\'s child should bring \nto a troubled world. \n\nThere is not time to-day to recite the historic de- \ntails of the reign of Solomon. They are found \nchiefly in the books of Kings and Chronicles. The \ndescriptions of his life and character are diverse, \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure* 7 \n\n\n\nbut they are not contradictory. There is, indeed, a \nvast space between the beautiful boy, upon his cor- \nonation-day, and the broken old man, bowing him- \nself before the horrible shrine of the Assyrian \nVenus and debasing himself before the foul altars \nof Moloch and Chemosh. It may remind you of \nthe painter who, in early life, selected a fair boy as \nhis ideal of beauty and purity, and who, forty years \nafterward, painted a poor wretch \xe2\x80\x94 the child now \ngrown into middle age and degraded by vice, doomed \nto the gallows, and hideous in form and expression \xe2\x80\x94 \nas his ideal of ugliness and moral depravity. Sin, \nyoung men, explains the seeming contradiction. \n\nThe story of Solomon\'s life is well worth your \nstudy. No name is so deeply impressed upon East- \nern legends as his. It appears in many forms. His \ndeeds and character are entwined with fantastic \ntales among Persians, Hindoos, Arabians, Egyp- \ntians, and Africans. His name is found in nearly \nall the dialects of the East. Jews, Christians, and \nMohammedans have kept the tradition of his great- \nness and wisdom. \n\nHe ascended the throne of David at the opening \nof the golden age of the kingdom of Israel. While \nhe was king, the Jewish nation, for the first and last \ntime, held rank as one of the great monarchies of \nthe world. David had consolidated the loose con- \nfederation of tribes into a strong and homogeneous \nnation. He had not only beaten his enemies in \nbattle, but he had reduced them to vassalage. Moab, \nEdom, Ammon, were subdued, Philistia was hum- \nbled, and even proud Damascus was garrisoned by \n\n\n\n8 \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nthe warrior king. Solomon came to a kingdom \nthat stretched from the Mediterranean to the Eu- \nphrates on the east, from Damascus to the border \nof Egypt on the south-west. He inherited the \ntreasures that David had gathered, during a long \nand successful reign, to an almost incredible extent. \nHe took the scepter amid the universal rejoicings \nof a strong, happy, and prosperous people. The \nnation was still outwardly faithful to the theocratic \nconstitution. All the influences that quicken the \nenergies and ambition of a people were at their \nhighest tide when this favorite of earth and heaven \nascended the throne. Knowledge, art, music, poet- \nry had come with the wealth David brought to his \nkingdom, and were culminating toward the highest \nachievements of which the race and age were capa- \nble. \n\nIt was a time of boundless hopefulness among the \npeople. There is one picture in the old history that \ntells us more than seems to be on the canvas. The \nancient scribe says of the people in the opening of \nSolomon\'s reign: "Judah and Israel were many, as \nthe sand which is by the sea in multitude, eating \nand drinking, and making merry." The beginning \nwas like the opening of a perfect day in spring- \ntime, when the heavens bless the earth, and the \nearth smiles its gratitude to the heavens, when the \nmorning air is sweet with odors and vocal with \nsongs. No human career ever began with the prom- \nise of being so nobly successful, or centered in it so \nmany hopes of men and blessings of God. \n\nSolomon made a good and hopeful beginning. \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\n9 \n\n\n\n"While the dying exhortations of his father yet lin- \ngered in his ear, the Lord appeared to him in a \ndream, and gave him choice of Heaven\'s richest \ngifts. The humility and deep sense of responsibil- \nity which led the young king to ask "wisdom" for \nthe great work to which he was called, God\'s ap- \nproval of the wisdom that asked more wisdom in- \nstead of riches, and honor, and long life, has been \ncelebrated by eloquent pens and tongues. The di- \nvine promise that he should excel not only in wis- \ndom, but in the gifts he did not ask, fascinating but \ndangerous \xe2\x80\x94 all this you know. \n\nHis history as a king we can only sketch in out- \nline \xe2\x80\x94 we are more concerned with him as a man. \nHe built the magnificent temple in Jerusalem, the \nwonder of the time, in the earlier years of his reign. \nHis passion for building was as ardent as Nebuchad- \nnezzar\'s, and as splendid as that of Pericles. I need \nonly mention the gorgeous palace he built for him- \nself, and the costly house he gave to his Egyptian \nwife, who brought him great cities for her dowry. \nTo these he added vast and magnificent public build- \nings, as the porch of pillars and the porch of judg- \nment. He extended, strengthened, and beautified \nthe wall of Jerusalem, and at convenient places in \nhis kingdom erected "fenced cities, with bars and \ngates." He built Tadmor, a fortified city in an \noasis of the desert that stretched along his northern \nfrontier, midway between Syria and the Euphrates \xe2\x80\x94 \nthe Palmyra of classic history, the capital city of \nZenobia\'s warlike race. Later in his reign he built \nother palaces, modeled after the styles of Egypt and \n\n\n\n10 Solomon\'s I^xPERiMENi ANt) Failure. \n\n\n\nAssyria; and in its middle period, temples for the \ninfernal gods his foreign wives brought to Jerusa- \nlem. No price restrained his tastes. He erected \nan ivory throne that surpassed in cost and magnifi- \ncence all that the proudest kings could boast. He \ndecorated Jerusalem with ornamental pillars that \noutshone the costly memorials that fronted the \ntemple of the Phenician Venus in Tyre itself. \n\nSolomon\'s foreign policy brought his kingdom \ninto intimate relations with the greatest nations of \nhis time. His marriage with the daughter of a \nPharaoh cemented a treaty between Egypt and Is- \nrael for the first time in five hundred years. His \nrelations with Hiram, King of Tyre, brought to \nIsrael the arts and culture of the Phenicians. He \nintroduced commerce, and joined his fleets with \nthose of Hiram in their trading voyages to the \ncoasts of distant Spain. His possession of the \nEdomite coasts enabled him to establish naval sta- \ntions at Elath and Ezion-geber, whence, sailing \ndown the ^Elanitic gulf of the Red Sea into the \nIndian Ocean, they traded with lands hitherto un- \nknown. India, Arabia, and probably Eastern Afri- \nca, were brought into close and profitable commer- \ncial relations with his people. But the seas did not \ncontent him, and commerce by caravans was ex- \ntended to distant lands. \n\nWherever his traders went they carried the fame \nof his greatness. He drew to his capital whatever \ncould add to its strength or renown. The Queen \nof Sheba paid him a visit of state, and princes and \nembassadors from the greatest kingdoms waited in \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. 11 \n\n\n\nhis ante-chambers. Departing from the simplicity \nof better times, he allied himself, by marriage, with \nperhaps every ruling family of the nations in inter- \ncourse with him. He organized an immense stand- \ning army, importing horses and chariots, at great \ncost, from Egypt. But enough \xe2\x80\x94 there is no such \nstory of prodigal and wanton expenditure in any \nEastern nation. \n\nHow such an administration bred discontent \namong the overtaxed and oppressed laboring class- \nes; how it fomented corruption in every rank of \nsociety; how it sowed thick the seeds of revolution, \nwe may not consider now. But in these old histo- \nries are lessons and warnings that rulers and states- \nmen of everv a^e mav consider with advantage. \n\nThe rapid sketch I have given of Solomon\'s per- \nsonal and kingly history has indicated his wide \ndeparture, in many directions, from the pure theo- \ncratic constitution given to Israel as a nation, and \nalso his own amazing moral collapse. For this his- \ntory shows us the man who was crowned king by \nthe priest of God, who chose wisdom when Heaven \ngave him his choice, who offered the prayer of ded- \nication upon the completion of the temple, giving \nhimself to unlimited debauchery, and to the vilest \nrites known to the idolatrous and sensual East. \n\nSolomon made as full and complete a trial of \nthe world\'s theory and plan of a human life as seems \npossible to man. He lacked none of the conditions, \nand he pushed his experiment to\' the utmost in all \npossible directions. \n\nHe had the personal and, I may say, constitu- \n\n\n\n12 Solomon\'s Experiment and Failure \n\n\n\ntional conditions. He had youth, beauty, health, \nvigor, temperament. So much is evident from the \nhints preserved in the history and in his own writ- \nings. Besides these physical qualities and suscepti- \nbilities, he had mental endowments of the largest \nmeasure. So far as breadth and vigor of understand- \ning, accuracy of intuition, keenness of perception, \nand knowledge of affairs and of men are concerned, \nnone, says the record, who had gone before him \nexcelled him. And it was said that no superior, in \nthese respects, should succeed him. For large- \nmindeclness, clearness and quickness of mental ac- \ntion, for exquisite aesthetic sensibility, for all that \nwe mean by preeminent mental endowments, there \nis no reason for doubting the intimation that the \nhuman race never had a more nobly endowed rep- \nresentative. If the expression be allowed, nature \ndid her utmost in the production of Solomon. \n\nHe had all helps in order to make a man. AVhat- \ncver training and culture was possible to that age \nhe received. The tradition is that the Prophet \nNathan had the care of his education. The state- \nment of his varied accomplishments, written per- \nhaps in his early days, before that sin had blasted \nhis intellect and spoiled his life, presents a radiant \npicture of a nobly gifted and richly cultured man. \n\n"And God gave Solomon wisdom and understand- \ning exceeding much, and largeness of heart, even \nas the sand that is on the sea-shore. And Solomon\'s \nwisdom excelled the wisdom of all the children of \nthe east country, and all the wisdom of Egypt. For \nhe was wiser than all men ; than Ethan the Ezrahite, \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. 13 \n\n\n\nand Heman, and Chalcol, and Darda, the sons of \nMahol; and his fame was in all nations round \nabout." He was an ardent student of nature, and \nhe made a record of his observations: "And he \nspake of trees, from the cedar-tree that is in Leb- \nanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of \nthe wall: he spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and \nof creeping things, and of fishes." He was sage and \npoet: "He spake three thousand proverbs; and his \nsongs were a thousand and five." \n\nIf his lost writings were no better than his life, it \nis a mercy of Providence that they have perished \nfrom the sight of men. \n\nMoreover, as we have seen, he had all the adven- \ntitious advantages which unlimited wealth and ab- \nsolute authority can command, whether luxurious \nliving, obliging friends, or popular favor. I say ad- \nvantages, because those who are trying, on a smaller \nscale, to repeat his experiment count them so. \n\nETow this man, so circumstanced, made deliber- \nately, persistently, and without let or hinderance, \nthe experiment of the world\'s theory of human life. \nHe has recorded the various processes of that ex- \nperiment and their results \xe2\x80\x94 he has left us a minute \nand clear account of his discoveries. If he succeed- \ned, then may smaller men imitate his example with \nfair hope of succeeding, in their measure, in his line^ \nof things. If he failed, then smaller men may save \nthemselves the pains of the experiment, and the \nagonies of failure. \n\nSolomon failed \xe2\x80\x94 failed utterly, ignobly, misera- \nbly. He failed in every possible direction \xe2\x80\x94 as a \n\n\n\n14 Solomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nman, as the head of a house, as the ruler of a peo- \nple. He covered his name with infamy; he left his \nfamily to chaos; he sowed among his people seeds \nof dissension that dismembered Israel, and finally \nblotted out ten of the tribes. The elements of all the \nwoes that overwhelmed the chosen people were in \nthe heritage of corruption and misrule which he \nleft them. \n\nThe chief service he has rendered mankind is \nthat he left a volume of confessions in the book of \nEcclesiastes that are perpetual warnings against the \nfolly of sin. These confessions are summed up \nin the bitter wail: "Vanity of vanities, saith the \nPreacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity ! " What \na monstrous and blasphemous misstatement! All \nis not vanity. His life was vanity. \n\nSince Christ came, the word "wisdom" has taken \non new dignity \xe2\x80\x94 a broader and deeper meaning. \nOur Catechism is wrong; Solomon was not the \nwisest man; there is no true wisdom without grace \nand virtue. \n\n" Vanity of vanities \xe2\x80\x94 all is vanity." There is not \na sadder sentence in the life of any man \xe2\x80\x94 in the \nliterature of any nation. It is the last word of all \npessimistic philosophy \xe2\x80\x94 a monster of unbelief, born \nof sin and despair. \n\nLet us contemplate the progress and results of \nSolomon\'s experiment upon life, as they exhibited \nthemselves in him \xe2\x80\x94 in his character and conduct. \nThe results were disappointment, satiety, vexation \nof spirit, exhaustion, brutal sensuality, moral degra- \ndation, skepticism, superstition, idolatry, remorse, \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\n15 \n\n\n\na blighted life, and as to its final issues, a miserable, \nperplexing, unsolved doubt as to his eternal future. \n\nBut this hasty glance, as one takes an instant\'s \nview of a landscape from a car- window, is not \nenough; the best lessons to us will require a more \ncareful inspection. In pointing out the multiform \nfailures of his experiments, I may indicate their \ncauses\xe2\x80\x94 ^at least, their explanations. \n\nAs both cause and effect, we must notice that self \nenters every thing he proposes \xe2\x80\x94 every thing he \ndoes. There is something unsatisfactory \xe2\x80\x94 be not \nstartled, young men \xe2\x80\x94 in the brightest scene in which \nhe appears \xe2\x80\x94 that night vision in Gibeon, in which \nthe Lord said, "Ask what I shall give thee." Wise \nas his petition was, approved of Heaven as it was, \none can hardly resist the impression that it is more \nexpressive of the anxiety of a young king conscious \nof unfitness for his high duties than of the longing \nof a truly humble and penitent heart for the divine \nfavor and mercy. His request is good and becom- \ning, but incomplete, since it does not stress the \ngreatest want of the human soul \xe2\x80\x94 the divine mercy \nin deliverance from sin and the kingdom of dark- \nness. Nor is the prayer of dedication as instinct \nwith evangelical sentiment as would furnish the \nbest ground of hope and confidence in the future \nmoral stability of the suppliant. Indeed, it may \nwell be questioned whether there is any passage in \nhis life, or any word in his writings, that furnishes \nproof that Solomon ever was, as we say, soundly \nconverted \xe2\x80\x94 thoroughly regenerated by the Holy \nGhost. For any sensible and patriotic youth, with- \n\n\n\n16 \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nout religious experience, might desire wisdom for \nthe government of a great people; while the litur- \ngical sublimity and excellence of the prayer of ded- \nication are not beyond the reach of religious senti- \nment, good taste, and high culture. \n\nWe shall find the best materials for estimating \nthe true character of Solomon in his writings. Of \nall his literary works, we have only the " Songs" \xe2\x80\x94 \nan exquisite wedding-poem of his ardent, poetic, \nunfallen youth; the book of Proverbs, the gar- \nnered wisdom of his middle life; and Koheleth, or \nEcclesiastes, written in his later and more unhappy \nyears. \n\nWe cannot, after reading these confessions, avoid \nthe conclusion that a subtle vanity marred his mo- \ntive in the erection of the sacred temple itself. \n(There is vanity in many a church and cathedral in \nChristian lands.) In his palace and city building, \nself-love and ambition are too manifest to allow a \ndoubt. In the most refined gratification of his \ntastes, as well as in his most revolting indulgences, \nself is predominant. His language is: "I made me \ngreat works; I builded me houses; I planted me \nvineyards" \xe2\x80\x94 and in like phrase through the cata- \nlogue of all his works. \n\nHe seeks culture from the same selfish impulse. \nSelf entered predominantly into his pursuit of \nknowledge. We talk much of the glory of culture, \nbut there is no species of selfishness more subtle, \ndelusive, or dangerous than the selfishness of cult- \nure. There is a culture that hardens the heart and \ndwarfs the affections. It is more refined, but it is \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. 17 \n\n\n\nnot less unrelenting than the selfishness of avarice \nitself. Throughout the whole record this self-seek- \ning spirit shows itself. The trail of the serpent is \nin every garden and in every palace. In the account \nhe gives of his true inner life \xe2\x80\x94 of his motives and \noccupations\xe2\x80\x94 there is little seen of a desire either \nto serve mankind or to glorify God. Certainly, \nafter the first decade of his life, there appears little \ndesire to be useful, and little or no spirit of worship. \nIndeed, God seems to have small place in the plans \nand occupations of his middle and later life. Com- \nmenting on this deplorable feature in his character, \nDr. Landels has well said: \n\n"Has David\'s son, who commenced life with so \nmuch promise, no place left in his heart for David\'s \nGod? Does he not even think of him in his attempt \nto discover what will satisfy the cravings of his nat- \nure? And what an obliviousness there seems to be \nto his own responsibilities! Were his great wealth \nand power granted him for no higher purpose than \nto minister pleasure to himself? .... Does he not \nsee that, even in the monarch, self-restraint is better \nthan self-indulgence, and that it ill becomes one so \nmentally gifted to impose no limits on the gratifica- \ntions of his fleshly desires? The selfishness of the \nman breathes in every line. He thinks of nothing \nbeyond himself. There is no such question as, How \nshall I fulfill the purposes of my existence? how \nshall I glorify God and bless my fellow-creatures? \nbut, How shall I get pleasure \xe2\x80\x94 pleasure that will \nsatisfy every craving of my nature, and leave noth- \ning more to be desired? The me-\xe2\x80\x94 the ego \xe2\x80\x94 has be- \n\n\n\n18 Solomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\ncome the center of his universe, and the divinity of \nhis worship. This is the subject of every inquiry, \nand the end of every pursuit." \n\nOn this line of self-seeking no man or woman \never did or ever can succeed in living happily or \nworthily. The eternal powers are against selfish- \nness in every form and in every sphere. Law, om- \nnipotent and inexorable, enforces its decree; if \nmen will not be warned, they shall be disappointed \nand crushed. \n\nSolomon\'s career furnishes a startling illustration \nof a vital but little understood truth: That self- \nseeking culture \xe2\x80\x94 culture without conscience \xe2\x80\x94 mere \nknowledge without worship, does itself tend to \nnourish and develop the lower side of our nature; \nthat unsanctified culture, whether in philosophy, in \nliterature, in science, or in art, has its normal and \nnot infrequent end in some form of sensuality. Very \noften there are restraints and conserving influences \nthat arrest and, in some degree, prevent such devel- \nopment. Remarking on these topics, Charnock \nsays, with much force of expression: \n\n"Many are fond of those sciences which may en- \nrich their understandings and grate not upon their \nsensual delights. .... In those studies that have \nnot immediately to do with God, their beloved \npleasures are not impaired; it is a satisfaction to \nself without the exercise of any hostility against it." \n\nLord Bacon has admirably delineated the charac- \nteristics of mere knowledge-seeking without refer- \nence to the great ends of worship and usefulness: \n\n"The mistaking or misplacing of the last or far- \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. 19 \n\n\n\nthest end of knowledge is the greatest error of all the \nrest. For men have entered into a desire of knowl- \nedge, sometimes upon a natural curiosity and inquis- \nitive appetite; sometimes to entertain their minds \nwith vanity and delight; sometimes for ornament and \nreputation ; and sometimes to enable them to obtain \nthe victory of wit and contradiction ; and most times \nfor lucre and profession; but seldom sincerely to \ngive a true account of their gift of reason, to the \n\nbenefit and use of men I would advise all \n\nin general that they would take into serious con- \nsideration the true and genuine ends of knowledge; \nthat they seek it not either for pleasure, or conten- \ntion, or contempt of others, or for profit, or fame, \nor for honor and promotion, or such like adulterate \nand inferior ends; but for merit and emolument of \nlife, that they may regulate and perfect the same in \ncharity." \n\nIn King Solomon\'s confessions we find almost in \na breath such utterances as these: "And I gave my \n\nheart to know wisdom I said in mine heart, \n\nGo to now, I will prove thee with mirth; therefore \n\nenjoy pleasure I sought in mine heart to give \n\nmyself unto w 7 ine, yet acquainting mine heart with \nwisdom." In immediate connection with these state- \nments we have the recital of his great works in \narchitecture, and in floral and horticultural orna- \nmentation. The following statement also: "I got \nme servants and maidens, and had servants born in \nmy house; also I had great possessions of great and \nsmall cattle above all that were in Jerusalem before \nme." The connection shows that these " posses- \n\n\n\n20 Solomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nsions" were part of his appliances for luxurious and \nsensual living. \n\nThe royal confessor goes on: "I gathered me sil- \nver and gold, and the peculiar treasure of kings and \nof the provinces: I got me men-singers and women- \nsingers, and the delights of the sons of men, as \nmusical instruments, and that of all sorts." \n\nIt hardly requires critical learning to understand \nall this. Thinly veiled by elegant euphemism, it is \nthe confession of a life devoted to gross though \nsplendid licentiousness. Let it be insisted on and \nremembered that mere culture \xe2\x80\x94 culture without \nconscience and without God \xe2\x80\x94 nourishes into despot- \nic life the lower side of human nature, and finds its \nfruition in sensuality. \n\nAnd all history, if it be inquired into, confirms \nthe lesson taught by Solomon. To mention but a \nfew instances: Ancient art reached its fullest tri- \numphs in the period of the deepest moral degrada- \ntion. Exhumed Herculaneum reveals to the aston- \nished gaze of our times the most exquisite art \ndedicated and indissolubly wedded to the most \nmonstrous and revolting sensuality. Modern Ro- \nman art touched its highest point during the mag- \nnificent reign of Pope Leo X., but it was also the \nperiod of the most degrading profligacy. And is \nit not true of our own times that the centers of art \nare also the centers of licentious sentiment and \npractice? And often the world is shocked by indi- \nvidual instances where godless culture the most \nsplendid unites itself with animalism the most con- \nsummate. Let it not be forgotten that Solomon \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\n21 \n\n\n\ntells the story of his knowledge that was without \nGod, of his art that was without conscience, and of \nhis sensuality that was without shame, in the same \nparagraph of his confessions. And always, and in \nevery age, these are the natural associations and \nissues from the Goethean theory of life, whether \nlived in Jerusalem or both taught and lived in \nWeimar. \n\nSolomon\'s life, as set forth in his confessions, not \nonly illustrates the truth that sensuality ends in \nwretched satiety as to the bodily appetites, and \nenfeeblement and degradation of the mind, but \nthat it leads to skepticism as to our beliefs and con- \nvictions. He did not, it seems, deny absolutely the \nexistence of God; but his life of self-indulgence, \nissuing in disappointment, despair of happiness, and \ndisgust at life, did lead to a blank and dreary skep- \nticism as to the beneficent and overruling providence \nof the Almighty Father. \n\nIn one breath he tells us: " Whatsoever mine eyes \ndesired I kept not from them; I withheld not my \nheart from any joy." In the next verse he says: \n" Then I looked on all the works that my hands had \nwrought, and on the labor that I had labored to do; \nand, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, \nand there was no profit under the sun." His im- \npatience waxes into intolerance. Hear him, raving \nlike a madman, in his estimate of life and its re- \nsults: "Then said I in my heart, As it happeneth \nto the fool, so it happeneth even to me; and why \nwas I then more wise? Then I said in my heart, \nthat this also is vanity. For there is no remem- \n\n\n\n22 \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nbrance of the wise more than of the fool forever; \nseeing that which now is in the days to come shall \nall be forgotten. And how dieth the wise man? as \nthe fool. Therefore I hated life, because the work \nthat is wrought under the sun is grievous unto me; \nfor all is vanity and vexation of spirit." \n\nConsider such wailings and ravings as these: "I \nhated all my labor which I had taken under the \n\nsun Therefore I went about to cause my \n\nheart to despair of all the labor which I took under \nthe sun." \n\nNow and then we have a momentary reference to \nGod, as if an echo from his early days, a recognition \nmore formal than hearty. But he falls again into \nhis querulous and heartless unbelief. He seeks ref- \nuge from the lashings of conscience in false philos- \nophy; he falls into a dreary pantheism, looking \nupon all nature as dominated by a blind and relent- \nless law, or fate. Hear him, in words that pagans \nmight have blushed to use : " For that which befall - \neth the sons of men befalleth beasts; .... as the \none dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all \none breath; so that a man hath no preeminence \nabove a beast; for all is vanity." This is the creed \nof our modern materialism. \n\nHe contemplated the sufferings and oppressions \nof men as a sentimental observer, and concludes \nthat there is help neither in God nor in man. His \nconclusion sinks into materialism, and is atheism, \nexcept the name. " "Wherefore I praised the dead \nwhich are already dead more than the living which \narc yet alive." And this praising of the dead takes \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. 23 \n\n\n\nno glimpse at the thought of the felicity of the good \nwho have entered into rest; he comprehends all \xe2\x80\x94 \nthe bad with the good. It is a fit creed for suicides. \n\n"What despair of life is in these petulant words: \n"Yea, though he live a thousand years twice told, \nyet hath he seen no good; do not all go to one \nplace?" A man with such an experience, with \nsuch thoughts of life, and such despair of God, \ncomes to hate his kind. Misanthropy is simply a \nsymptom of skepticism. "Behold," says this un- \nhappy and depraved man, "counting one by one, to \nfind out the account ; which yet my soul seeketh, \nbut I find not: one man among a thousand have I \nfound; but a woman among all those have I not \nfound." \n\nHow monstrous, and false, and mean are such \nsentiments and such words ! This burnt-out deb- \nauchee, who had surrounded himself with a herd \nof bad women, pronouncing a sweeping verdict \nagainst female virtue! And always the man who \nentertains such sentiments and employs such lan- \nguage about women is base, and false, and mean. \n\nSolomon\'s skepticism has a moral rather than an \nintellectual origin. It is not the perplexity of an \nearnest searcher after truth; it is not the sorrow of \na baffled mind that cannot find it; it is not the \ndespair of a lofty soul wrestling in vain with the \nproblems of the universe. His unbelief did not \ngrow out of ignorance; nor was it due to lack of \nevidence. Like much of the unbelief of our times, \nhis skepticism was a matter of the heart rather than \nof the head. To such a man as Solomon was for a \n\n\n\n24 Solomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\ngreat period of his life, a firm, abiding, and saving \nfaith in the divine goodness and justice, truth and \nmercy, was impossible. The man who deliberately \nputs pleasure in the place of dutj r will construct a \ncreed low enough for the level of his practice. The \nman who deliberately says to his lower nature, " Go \nto now, I will prove thee with mirth; therefore en- \njoy pleasure," will presently say, "There is nothing \nbetter for a man than that he should eat and drink, \nand that he should make his soul enjoy good in his \nlabor." And on such a creed a man may build the \nmost beastly materialism in life and morals. No \nman maintains a high standard of morals whose \npractice is low. The man who lives for pleasure \nonly will conclude that pleasure is indeed the chief \ngood, and will create a creed that rules out whatever \nprinciples interfere with his desires. No such man \nfeels easy while the thought of God is in his heart. \n"The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God." \nAnd he said it because the thought of God made \nhim unhappy. \n\nIn such a life as Solomon lived the descent pro- \nceeds with accelerating momentum. The low prac- \ntice seeks a lower creed; the lower creed allows and \nencourages a lower practice. Below every deep \nabyss of such a fall "a lower deep" still waits. \n\nSkepticism like Solomon\'s naturally leads to su- \nperstition. As always happens to such men, if they \ngo far enough, there comes after awhile more than \nlie sting of conscience for wrong -doing; there \ncomes also the pains of disappointment. The de- \nsire for pleasure often outlives the capacity of grat- \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\n25 \n\n\n\nification. Thousands have suffered Solomon\'s ex- \nperience: "I said of laughter, It is mad; and of \nmirth, What doeth it?" The time came when his \ngreat works \xe2\x80\x94 his palaces, his pleasure-gardens, his \n"men-singers, and women-singers, and delights of \nall sorts" \xe2\x80\x94 were delights no more. He who had \ndenied himself no pleasure came to a time when he \nhated it all. Here is his estimate of results : "Then \nI looked on all the works that my hands had \nwrought, and on the labor that I had labored to do; \nand, behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, \nand there was no profit under the sun." \n\nWe need not doubt it, chaos comes into such a \nsoul as this. Such a man becomes a pessimist be- \ncause he recoils from himself. From his sky the \nstars go out. Such a mind makes all existence like \nitself. Of such a mind we may say, in the sad and \nterrible words of Shelley, who himself sounded the \ndepths of doubt and despair: \n\nThe curtain of the universe \n\nIs rent and shattered, \nThe splendor- winged worlds disperse, \n\nLike wild doves scattered. \n\nBut let us remember that desire does not go out \nw T hen despair comes into the soul. When Solomon \n"despaired of all his labor which he took under the \nsun;" when his vexation at keen and utter disap- \npointment led him to "hate life" itself, his desire \nof happiness only asserted itself with more eager \ncries. The subsidence of passion, or the exhaustion \nof nature, brings not to the human soul even the \nquietude of indifference. If there be nothing else \n\n\n\n26 Solomons Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nleft, the hungry soul will turn and feed upon itself. \nEvery pulse of passion may be starved and bleached \nout of an emaciated body, without bringing one \nmoment\'s rest to the mind, \n\nwhich is its own place, \nAnd in itself can make a hell of heaven, \nA heaven of hell. \n\nAnd, fearful to contemplate, there is no reason to \nbelieve that death itself will bring 1 release from the \n\nCD \n\ntierce hunger of the soul that has fed on husks. \nSatan needed not a fleshly form to be the victim of \ncontending passions, insatiable desires, and keen \ndespair. \n\nIt is a just and profound remark of John Fos- \nter\'s: "All pleasure must be bought at the price of \npain; the difference between false pleasure and true \nis just this: for the true the price is paid before you \nenjoy it, for the false after you enjoy it." \n\nSolomon paid after he enjoyed, nor did he dis- \ncharge his debt. \n\nXow, what was for him the natural outcome of \nsuch a course of life? This worn-out man, prema- \nturely old, disgusted with all his works, hating life \nand doubting God, what was the natural thing for \nhim to do, surrounded by an army of strange wom- \nen from idolatrous countries? Manifestly to fall \ninto idolatry. Molech, Chemosh, Ashtoreth, nat- \nurally came after his departure from God \xe2\x80\x94 came \nafter a life of sensual indulgence that issued in dis- \ngust and exhaustion, came after a life that brought \nhim down to the low level of their abominations. \nHe was like the crew of a burning ship who must \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. 27 \n\n\n\nchoose between the cruel fire and the cruel sea. He \nhad ceased to call upon the God of his father Da- \nvid; in his mortal agony and fear, he cried to the \nbeastly gods his strange wives had brought him. \n"For Solomon went after Ashtoreth, the goddess \nof the Zidonians; and after Milcom, the abomina- \ntion of the Ammonites." \n\nHe had proved the folly of mirth, the vanity of \nwealth, the mad vexation of indulgence; he had \ntried to find relief in skepticism, but his doubts \nwere like the shifting seas, they could not let him \nrest. As Dean Howson says: " Unbelief, when it \nhas become conscious of its weakness, is often glad \nto give its hand to superstition." \n\nYoung men, we have Solomon\'s experiment and \nits results before us. We have the history and his \nconfessions. What do you think of it? \n\nThe experiment was made deliberately, thorough- \nly, with every possible advantage. And it failed \xe2\x80\x94 \nfailed utterly and ignobly. We have his estimate \nof it: " Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, all \nis vanity. 7 \' We have God\'s estimate. Our Lord \nJesus, who knew what was in men, made but one \nallusion to him; he preferred the lilies of the valley \nto all his pomp and glory. St. Paul, who mentions \nthe dull giant Samson among the men of faith, \ndoes not mention great Solomon at all. \n\nThis history illustrates what we should all keep \never before us, that no man can set limits to sinful \nindulgence. Solomon deliberately and distinctly \ntried to do this. He said: "I sought in mine heart \nto give myself unto wine, yet acquainting mine heart \n\n\n\n28 \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nwith wisdom." This is universal experience. No \nman ever died a drunkard who did not begin toying \nwith wine with the distinct purpose to set limits to \nhis indulgence, and with the confident belief that \nhe could easily do it. No man ever died a worn- \nout debauchee who did not, at the first, believe that \nhe, and not his passions, was master. \n\nMen know not the depths and force of the under- \ncurrents of human nature. Woe betide the bold \ndiver who is caught in the under-tow that leads out \nto the sea! Sin indulged is a very devil-fish that \nseizes the cable in its horrid jaws, shuts its eyes, and \nmakes for unfathomed deeps. \n\nWhat an opportunity this man trod under his \nfeet ! Consider how great were the possibilities to \nhim when he ascended the throne. All Israel was \nglad, and Heaven sanctioned the joy of the people. \nHe was " anointed with the oil of gladness above \nhis fellows." What a man in wisdom and in saintly \ngrace he might have been! What a ruler of his \npeople! What a light to all the nations of the \nearth! His rising sun gave promise of a golden \nand perfect day. Before it reached its meridian it \nwas obscured with dark and fateful clouds. It hast- \ned to its setting in the blackness and mutterings of \ncoming tempests. Whether there was any light \nbeyond those clouds we cannot tell. All we know \nis that as he approached his end he seems, as the \nshadows fall upon him, to awake from his madden- \ning dream. He talks solemnly of the fear of God \nand of the judgment- day. Whether all this is \nmore than the dying exhortation of a doomed \n\n\n\nSolomon\'s Experiment and Failure. 29 \n\n\n\nman, going to his fate without hope, we do not \nknow. \n\nThe closing chapter of Ecclesiastes is exquisitely \ntender and beautiful. It checks the foolish ardor \nof youth, and shames the vanity of selfish ambition. \nHe paints old age as it was never painted. But, as \nto Solomon himself, there is no assurance in these \nsad last words that he recovered his lost purity, or \nthat he found peace and salvation in the pardon of \nhis sins. Speculation is idle and hurtful here. We \nsee him as a dismantled ship quivering on the con- \ntending billows; mists, and clouds, and darkness \nsettle about it and hide it from our eyes; a flash of \nlightning reveals it in painful distinctness for a mo- \nment; then we see it no more. Whether it ever \nreached the desired haven is known only to the \ndwellers beyond. \n\nBut his words are wise and his exhortation time- \nly: "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole mat- \nter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this \nis the whole duty of man. For God shall bring; \nevery work into judgment, with every secret thing, \nwhether it be good, or whether it be evil." " Remem- \nber now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while \nthe evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, \nwhen thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them." \n\nWe leave Solomon as one turns from the burial \nof a man who, with vast possibilities, failed of suc- \ncess, died and "made no sign." Let us be warned \nby his experiment and its failure. \n\nIf you will go to the Teacher who is wisdom, \ntruth, and grace, he will show you the good and \n\n\n\n30 Solomon\'s Experiment and Failure. \n\n\n\nright way. Make him your friend. To the culture \nof books add the culture of grace. Seek the spirit \nof Christ; this only is your safeguard and your de- \nliverance. Imitate his example. And be sure that \nno loftier promise was ever offered to the hope of \nmen than that word of heavenly comfort and inspi- \nration: "We know that when He shall appear we \nshall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." \n\n\n\nLOVICK PIERCE: 17854879, \n\n\n\n[OXFOKD, NOV, 20, 1879,] \n\n\n\nUR Methodism never mourned at such a fu- \n\n\n\n\\_J neral as that of Lovick Pierce; it never can \nagain. For he was born six y ears before John Wes- \nley died; he became an itinerant preacher during \nthe Christmas of 1804; he was the contemporary of \nAsbury and McKendree; he lived through three \ngenerations of men; he w^as a preacher of the gos- \npel of the Son of God for seventy-five years. \n\nWhen he mounted his horse in January, 1805, \nand bade good-by to his mother for the wide reaches \nof the great Pedee Circuit in South Carolina, there \nwere but five or six millions of people in the United \nStates; when he died in Sparta, Georgia, on Sunday \nevening, November 9, 1879, there were, it is sup- \nposed, fifty millions. When he began, the Indians \nwere in Middle Georgia; when he died, our white \npopulation \xe2\x80\x94 ever pushing westward \xe2\x80\x94 had stretched \nits advancing lines from the Atlantic to the Pacific \nOcean. He was before steam-boats, railroads, and \ntelegraphs \xe2\x80\x94 to say nothing of more recent and won- \nderful inventions. During his life-time the most \nnotable helps to the progress and civilization of the \nhuman race have come into use. \n\nWhen he entered upon his career, Methodists \nwere counted by thousands; when he entered upon \n\n\n\n\n(31) \n\n\n\n32 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nhis reward, they were counted by millions. There \nare more Methodists among the heathen nations to- \nday than were in England and America when As- \nbury gave him his first appointment. There are \nmore Methodist preachers in Hindostan to-day than \nwere in America when Lovick Pierce was " admit- \nted on trial. " The Wesleyan Conference in the Fiji \nIslands (and the Fijians were cannibals when he was \nin his prime) is nearly as strong in numbers as was \nMethodism in the United States when he entered \nits ranks. \n\nIt may be mentioned with propriety also that the \ngreatest conservative and aggressive movements \nof the Church have had their beginning, or have \ntaken on their strength, since our translated father \nbegan to preach. The great Bible Societies, the \ngreat Missionary Societies, have all been organized, \nor developed into power, since Providence "gave \nLovick Pierce to the human race." Within his \ntime the Church has begun to realize her educational \nfunction. That wonder of modern religious life, the \nSunday-school movement, has grown into a power \nthat promises untold blessings to the world since he \nentered upon his career. \n\nHe lived through the "heroic days" of the first \nperiod of American Methodist history; he lived \nthrough the period of its more perfect ecclesiastical \norganization; he lived to see Methodist churches \nand missions planted on every continent and every \nchief island of the sea; he lived to see universal \nMethodism \xe2\x80\x94 counting millions in its ranks \xe2\x80\x94 gath- \nering up its God^given energies for its grandest \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n33 \n\n\n\nachievements ; he lived to see, as in apocalyptic vis- \nion, the gray lines of light in the East that foretell \nthe dawn of the brightest and divinest day in its \nhistory. \n\nFull of years, full of honors, trusted and loved \nthrough three generations, revered by millions of \ngodly men and women, respected by his fellow-citi- \nzens of every class, prized of Heaven and ripe for \nthe harvest, he has "fallen on sleep," he has been \n" gathered unto his. fathers" in the "sure and cer- \ntain hope of the resurrection of the dead. " \n\nThere is sadness in our Methodism, but not lamen- \ntation. A mighty man and a prince in our Israel \nhas been buried, but mingled with our tears are \nsongs of victory. The noblest thing that a man \ncan do is to live and die in the Lord. And, he, \nwhom they laid to rest in Columbus, November 12, \nhad "fought a goodfight;" had " kept the faith," \nhad "finished his course." He has entered into \nrest; he has won his triumph; he is in heaven to- \nday \xe2\x80\x94 at home with his Lord, among the redeemed, \na crowned victor forever. \n\nIf the Senate of Rome voted Csesar a triumph \nwhen he returned victorious from his wars, shall \nnot the Church of God \xe2\x80\x94 although bereaved of a \ntrusted leader \xe2\x80\x94 rejoice on the day of his triumphant \nentrance into the city of God, midst the acclama- \ntions of the heavenly hosts? What welcomes he \nhas received! How many thousands helped to \nheaven through his ministry, how many veterans \xe2\x80\x94 \nhis companions in arms\xe2\x80\x94 who toiled and suffered \nand triumphed with him through the campaigns \n\n\n\n34 \n\n\n\nLOVICK PlEROE. \n\n\n\nof three-quarters of a century, but who outran \nhim to glory, have received him into the shining \ncompany above! While we meet to pay the im- \nperfect tribute of our respect to his greatness and \ngoodness, what high discourse he holds with the \nimmortals! \n\nNo Christian heart can repine when we think of \nhim \xe2\x80\x94 who so lately lingered upon our dull shores \n"in age and feebleness extreme 3 \' \xe2\x80\x94 as now holding \nsweet converse with the redeemed, as now joining \nhis voice in the swelling song of the " multitude, \nwhich no man can number, of all nations, and kin- \ndreds, and people, and tongues, that stand before the \nthrone, and before the Lamb, clothed with white \nrobes, and palms in their hands, and cry with a \nloud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sit. \nteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. " \n\nFor our instruction and edification, let us consider \ncarefully, though imperfectly, the story of his life \nand labors, the secret springs and motives of his \nprivate walk and public ministry. \n\nLovick Pierce \xe2\x80\x94 "father of Methodism in Geor- \ngia" \xe2\x80\x94 was born in Halifax county, North Carolina, \nMarch 24, 1785; he died in Sparta, Georgia, at the \nhome of his eldest son, Bishop George Foster Pierce, \non Sunday, November 9, 1879, at six and a-half \no\'clock, just as the church-bells were ringing for the \nevening service. To tell all that comes between \nthese dates would require a great volume. We \nmust content ourselves with brief consideration of \nsome of the leading facts of his life and the salient \npoints of his manifold character. \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n35 \n\n\n\nHIS BIRTH AND BRINGING UP. \n\nSome ten years ago he wrote a long letter con- \ncerning his early life and development to his well- \nbeloved friend, the lamented Dr. Edward H. Myers. \nWhat I shall read to you at this time, concerning \nhis early days, I have copied with that letter before \nme. Of his birth and bringing up, he writes: \n\n"I was born in Halifax county, North Carolina, \nMarch 24, 1785, but brought to South Carolina, I \nthink, in 1788, and brought up in Barnwell District, \non Tinker\'s Creek, twenty-three miles east of Au- \ngusta, Georgia. My father resided on the same sec- \ntion of land from 1788 till 1804, when he removed \nto Georgia. I was the second child, my brother \nEeddick \xe2\x80\x94 of precious memory \xe2\x80\x94 being two and \na-half years older than myself. It being a very re- \nmarkable circumstance, I will mention the fact that \nduring this period, with a family of ten children, \nthere was never a case of sickness, except three \nagues that I had. Nor was there a death among \nus, nor a dose of medicine taken." \n\nHe came of "good human stock," Of his parents, \nhe says: \n\n66 My father and mother were sprightly and affa- \nble \xe2\x80\x94 cheerful and happy. They were of that class \nof poor people whose views and feelings on points \nof propriety always belonged to the higher order of \naspirations. From them we inhaled only pure and \nlofty aspirations, in so far as incentives to every hu- \nman virtue were involved. They were models of \nindustry. That labor is as honorable as it is neces- \nsary, was an axiom in our house. And the precious \n\n\n\n36 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nleaven of it has, in good degree, leavened our whole \nlump. There was never one of our blood that was \nconstitutionally lazy. I am glad that I was born of \nworking parents. Good human stock is best." \n\nHIS CONVERSION. \n\nHe tells us of the influences that led to his conver- \nsion and to his becoming a Methodist. In a memoir \nof his brother Reddick, written in 1860, he savs of \nthe relation of his family to Methodism: \n\n"My aunt "Weathersby had imbibed a love of \nMethodism in North Carolina, before her removal, \nand hailed their coming among us as a blessing. \nMy father despised the race with bitterness. My \nmother, I think, like her sister, had a liking to Meth- \nodism. But not one of our family ever attended a \nMethodist service till August, 1801." \n\nIn his letter to Dr. Myers, he says of himself and \nbrother: \n\n" My acquaintance with Methodist preaching com- \nmenced in August, 1801; my brother Reddick and \nmyself went to hear the Rev. James Jenkins, of the \nSouth Carolina Conference. I joined the Church in \nthe summer of 1802. The circuit was then under \nthe care of the Rev. Thomas Darley, assisted by \nJohn Campbell. Campbell took me in, my father \nand mother, and brother and oldest sisters, having \njoined three weeks before, under Darley. It was \na six weeks\' circuit, Jenkins being presiding elder. \nI was converted in August, 1803 \xe2\x80\x94 Darley on the \ncircuit." \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n37 \n\n\n\nHIS EARLY ENVIRONMENTS. \n\nThe sketch from which we quote gives us a vivid \nview of the young convert\'s moral and social envi- \nronments on Tinker\'s Creek, in South Carolina, in \n1803. He says: \n\n"That portion of South Carolina in which I was \nbrought up was only half civilized, as we call it, till \nafter 1801. Then it was included in the old Eclisto \nCircuit, and was regularly supplied with Methodist \npreaching. Previous to that time there was very \nlittle preaching in all that region, and what there \nwas was so mixed up with crude notions of elec- \ntion that sinners made a hobby of it. They parried \nall religious emotions with the plea, \'If I am to \nbe saved, I will be.\' But there were a few good \npeople. \n\n" I have mentioned civilization, as we call it. I \ndid so on purpose. In those days of semi-barbarian \naspects, human life was estimated at its original \nw r orth. The people would fall out and fight. But \nthe disposition to kill was unknown and unfelt. I \ndo not think a case of killing, as we have it now, \never occurred during the first twenty-five years of \n\nmy life But as to myself, while my parents \n\nwere not openly religious, they were firm believers \nin religion, and recommended its morality to us, \nwhile they did not fully enforce it, especially in re- \nlation to keeping the Sabbath-day holy. We were \nrestrained from all common labor, but not from \nsinful pastimes. if we had had Sabbath-schools \nthen, I wonder how I should have relished them!" \n\nOf his early religious impressions, he says: \n\n\n\n38 , Lovicr PlEKCE. \n\n\n\n"Under all these unfavorable surroundings, my \nmind, to whatever agency it was due, was always \ndeeply affected with religious impressions. My \nideas of God were all pretty much of the terrific \nkind. I w r as indoctrinated with such views of God, \nall tending to make his power so terrible, that no \nroom w T as left for the solace of sympathy and love. \nI think I always offered some sort of a prayer when \nI lay down. I was afraid to go to sleep without it. \nBut it was always done as law. The idea of kneel- \ning and praying formally I think I hardly had. \nMy recollection is that I never saw T but one man \nkneel to pray till after the Methodists introduced \nit. And as to teaching children to kneel and say, \n\nNow I lay me down to sleep, \nI pray the Lord my soul to keep, \n\nI very much doubt if there was a family in the dis- \ntrict that ever heard of such a thing." \n\nTHE BROTHERS. \nThe brothers, Keddick and Lovick, w r ere both \n"awakened to a sense of sin" under the ministry \nof the Rev. James Jenkins; both sought and found \nreligion; both entered the traveling ministry to- \ngether. Their conversion produced a great sensa- \ntion among their acquaintances. Young men were \nnot expected to be religious; the public profession \nof religion by these two well-known young men \nwas a social and moral phenomenon hard to be un- \nderstood. The general idea that prevailed in that \nday was (alas! that it is not yet well out of the \nworld) that " every young man had his basket of \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n39 \n\n\n\nwild oat-seed to sow. And he had the sanction of \npublic opinion to sow on." \n\nDr. Pierce writes of the conversion of himself \nand brother: \n\n"The conversion of two young men, so conspicu- \nous as my brother and myself, turned right away \nfrom a country-dance to a Methodist prayer-meet- \ning, and both of us in for this new life, and no \ndrawing us off, gave us great notoriety." \n\nHIS CALL TO PREACH \n\nThere were some very remarkable circumstances \nconnected with his call to preach. Let the story be \ntold in his own words. He says to Dr. Myers: \n\n"I felt my mind impressed with a call to preach, \nor with impressions that I would have to preach, \nfrom my early boyhood days. This was the more \nnoteworthy, because in my early times it was a rare \noccurrence with me even to see a preacher or hear \na sermon. So that these impressions and feelings \nwere not occasioned by familiarity and a fondness \nfor preachers. These far-back feelings in my life \nfrequently accumulated into such strength as, when \nI would be walking alone, to lead me to pass in \nthought words, as if addressing hearers, till I was \noverwhelmed with weeping. All this was the more \n\'marvelous because, in so far as I can now retrace \nthese tender emotions, they were without any fixed \npurpose to be a preacher, or even the desire to be \none." \n\nHere is indeed matter for our study of the " way \nof the Spirit" with men. This stripling, working \n\n\n\n40 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\non a small farm in an obscure part of South Caro- \nlina, in the beginning of this century, who was \nwithout education or educational opportunities, who \nhad rarely seen a preacher or heard a sermon, who \nwas decently moral but without religious life \xe2\x80\x94 this \nboy, walking alone along woodland paths and for- \ngetting what was about him, preaching "in thought," \n" as if addressing hearers, till he was overwhelmed \nwith weeping" \xe2\x80\x94 is indeed a sight to arrest attention. \n"Was it not the Spirit that called young Samuel in \nthe silent watches of the night, that moved the \nheart of John the Baptist in the wilderness? But \nwhat mighty stirrings of the Spirit of all life and \ngrace were moving that young and untaught heart \nonly He who called the unconverted fishermen of \nGalilee to "follow" him could read or tell. \n\nA CALL TO PREPARE. \n\nWhat followed, years after, may appear as very \nsingular to some, but the experience is not uncom- \nmon. Returning to his own sketch, we will find \nsentences pregnant with meaning and rich in in- \nstruction. We begin with his own word "there- \nfore:" \n\n"Therefore, after my conversion, when my mind \nbecame impressed with the idea that I must preach, \nI resisted the call for nearly two years, until my \nreligious life and peace disappeared, very much like \na process of drying up. I simply felt as if it were \na punishment for disobedience. And yet, in my \ndefense of myself, I went upon the ground of not \nknowing whether I was called or not, foolishly ask- \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n41 \n\n\n\ning for a \'sign.\' And then again, taking the \nground that even if I was called I was too ignorant \nto preach, and could not undertake it. I now think \nmy idea of ignorance then arose chiefly from my \nilliterate condition. It never entered into my mind \nthat a call to preach was, of course, a call to prepare \nfor it. This teas then a sort of ingrained error in \nAmerican Methodists, to wit: That a man was emphat- \nically called to preach, fast as the Lord might lay hands \non him. I say this was an error of American Method- \nists; I do not think that English Methodists were ever \nmuch, if ever at all, affected with this low-bred enthu- \nsiasm" \n\nAYe would give emphasis, if possible, to the clos- \ning sentences of this paragraph. They are vastly \nimportant to young men contemplating the minis- \ntry, and to the Church in considering their applica- \ntion for authority to preach. They express the de- \nliberate judgment of such a man as Lovick Pierce \nafter nearly seventy years of experience, observa- \ntion, and reflection. Let the Church in her dealings \nwith unprepared youths consider of them. And \nlet such youths lay them to heart. \n\nTHE BEGINNING. \n\nThe following account of his providential induc- \ntion into the ministry will be read with profound \ninterest by all thoughtful persons; and it will be \nread with tears by some who have had like tribula- \ntion of soul. \n\n"But after all my well-grounded apprehensions \nand withering fears," the sketch continues, "I was \n\n\n\n42 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nled out by the Spirit, and became a preacher. The \nfolio wing was the process: \n\n"My pastor, the Rev. T. Darley, knowing my \ntroubled mind, gave me, of his own accord, a license \nto exhort, and appointed me class-leader, at a new \npreaching-place, eleven miles from my father\'s. The \npeople all concluded I was a preacher, and so an- \nnounced me. On my first appointment \xe2\x80\x94 it was at \na private house \xe2\x80\x94 when I reached the place every \nhole and corner was a jam of people. \n\n"My father was a military officer \xe2\x80\x94 militia, of \ncourse \xe2\x80\x94 and my brother and myself had accompa- \nnied him to so many military parades (for in those \ndays these militia-musters were as regular and near- \nly as certain as the fulls and changes of the moon) \nthat we had become widely known. The report \nthat a son of Captain Pierce would preach at this \nplace, on this day, was enough to bring out all the \ncountry. And so it did. \n\n"I was never in such a fright in all my life. I \nhalted, tried to pray, wallowed on the clean grass, \nafraid to go back and give it up, and yet felt as if \nto face the crowd, as a preacher, was more than flesh \nand blood could endure. I cried to God for help \nand direction, until my faithful Watch announced to \nme I must either go in or give it up. I did go in, \nand that day sealed my destiny as to preaching. I \nread a lesson, sung a hymn, prayed and exhorted \xe2\x80\x94 \nall of which consumed only about thirty minutes. \nI left without dinner, because my mind was so agi- \ntated with my anomalous condition that all desire \nfor food was totally gone." \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n43 \n\n\n\n"TEMPTED OF THE DEVIL." \n\nThere are many preachers who cannot read this \naccount of the "process" by which the great preach- \ner was "led out by the Spirit" into the ministry with- \nout tender and grateful recall of heart-searehings, \nof wrestling with the prince of darkness,. and of \ndivine deliverance in the days of their own weak- \nness and temptation. Are they not all w r ho are to \ndo great work for God and man "led up of the \nSpirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the \ndevil" for a season? \n\nLet me read again from his own account, and see \nwhat experiences he had when his first sermon was \nover. He continues: \n\n"And now my mind w^as plied with the very nat- \nural temptation that I had done wrong, because \nmy religious comforts w T ere all wasted, in my long \nrefusal to obey my impressions to preach. Satan \nhimself now admitted that there had been a time \nwhen I ought to have done it, but that now I had \nsinned away the Spirit and could not rightfully do \nit. In this perplexed state of mind \xe2\x80\x94 I remember \nit w 7 ell \xe2\x80\x94 I said in my heart, as unto God: \' I will fill \nmy next appointment (for in my hurry and confu- \nsion I had left another), and if there is any evidence \nof Divine approval, I will never ask for another \nsign of assurance that it is my duty to preach.\' I \nwent at the time, and the Lord came down in mighty \npower, as in those days he did. In a few weeks \nnearty every family in the settlement were in the \nChurch. I kept my promise, and have never \ndoubted rny call to preach from that day to this." \n\n\n\n44 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nAS ITINERANT PREACHER. \n\nHe was "admitted on trial\' 7 in the South Caro- \nlina Conference that met in Charleston during the \nChristmas holidays of 1804, under the presidency \nof Bishop Asbury. His first appointment was the \nGreat Pedee Circuit, South Carolina. His brother \nReddick, admitted the same clay, was sent to Little \nRiver, in AVilkes county, Georgia. Lovick\'a second \nappointment was to the Appalachee Circuit, includ- \ning Greene, Clarke, Oconee, and Jackson counties. \nAt Sparta, where he died, he was " admitted into full \nconnection and ordained deacon" December, 1806; \nhe was ordained elder at a Christmas Conference \nheld in Greene county in 1808. To trace his ap- \npointments from that time would be to recite the \nhistory of Methodism in Georgia for nearly three- \nquarters of a century. \n\nFrom that first exhortation " in a private house," \nof which he has told us, to his last sermon preached \non Sunday, December 1, 1878, before the Xorth \nGeorgia Conference in Marietta, Dr. Pierce preached, \nas he himself estimated, not less than eleven thou- \nsand sermons. \n\nAnd he preached gospel sermons; from the be- \nginning to the end of his long and illustrious min- \nistry-, he could say, with St. Paul, " God forbid that \nI should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus \nChrist, by whom the world is crucified unto me, \nand I unto the world. " How constantly, how ably, \nhow earnestly, how successfully he preached is \nknown and read of all men. It is an essential part \nof Methodist history in this country; it would re- \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n45 \n\n\n\nquire a volume to tell the story. For three-quarters \nof a century he magnified his ministry in cities, \nvillages, and country-places \xe2\x80\x94 on circuits, stations, \ndistricts, missions, agencies \xe2\x80\x94 to the very best of his \ngreat ability, as God gave him opportunity. And \nno man of his time had more abundant opportunity, \nfor God honored his servant\'s zeal. \n\nHis last appointment was given him by Bishop \nMcTyeire, at Thomasville, Ga., last winter. He was \nnamed "Conference Missionary." His Conference \nwould not place him on the list of " superannuated \nmen." He shrunk from it, and they delighted to \nplease and honor him. \n\nMARRIAGE. \n\nIn 1809, Dr. Pierce married Miss Ann Foster, \ndaughter of Col. George Foster, of Greene county, \nGa., a successful planter, a man of great force of \ncharacter, and a devoted member of the Methodist \nChurch. Forty-one years she was a help-mate wor- \nthy to be the wife of such a man as Lovick Pierce. \nGeorgia and Methodism owe such a wife and moth- \ner as she was immortal honor. She died suddenly \nin Columbus, Ga., May, 1850, when her husband \nwas returning from the St. Louis General Confer- \nence. Without warning, while sitting in her chair, \nreading her Bible, she went to God. It was by \nher side \xe2\x80\x94 whose memory he cherished w^ith pure, \nknightly devotion \xe2\x80\x94 that a multitude of mourners \nlaid the great preacher to rest, as the sun was set- \nting Tuesday, November 11, 1879. \n\n\n\n46 \n\n\n\n- Lovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nAS LOCAL PREACHER. \nNine years after he entered the itinerant minis- \ntry, Dr. Pierce located at the Conference which met \nin Fayetteville, North Carolina, January 12, 1814. \nDuring the few years of his location he studied and \npracticed medicine, to provide for his family in that \nperiod of meager salaries. But his zeal knew no \nabatement during his enforced retirement from his \nwork as an itinerant preacher. How he magnified \nthe office of a local preacher during this period the \ntraditions of Middle Georgia faithfully tell. Change \nof relation did not change his zeal. When, during the \nwar of 1812, he was drafted into the army and ap- \npointed chaplain to the troops stationed in Savannah, \nhe gave himself to preaching just as he did on cir- \ncuits and districts. \n\nAT GENERAL CONFERENCE. \n\nHe was a member of the first delegated General \nConference ever held in Methodism. It met in New \nYork in May, 1812. His name does not appear \namong the delegates to the two succeeding General \nConferences that met in 1816 and 1820. Doubtless he \nwould have been elected had he not been ineligible \nby reason of his temporary location, for the Church \nnever missed an opportunity to honor and trust him. \nHe was a member of the General Conference that \nmet in 1824, the first that met after his return \nto the itinerant ministry, and of every other till \n1844, when, at the memorable Conference in New \nYork, American Episcopal Methodism became " two \nbands. ?? He was a member of the convention that \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n47 \n\n\n\norganized the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, \nin Louisville, Kentucky, in 1845, and of every Gen- \neral Conference thereafter down to 1878. \n\nAS FRATERNAL MESSENGER. \n\nIt is matter of notorious Methodist history that \nhe was appointed to convey to the General Confer- \nence of the Methodist Episcopal Church that met \nin Pittsburgh, Pa., in 1848, the fraternal salutations \nof the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. How \nthat General Conference declined to receive the \nblameless messenger, how dignified and Christian \nwas his communication to the Conference on leav- \ning the city of Pittsburgh^-all this is matter of \nhistory. \n\nHis connection with the recent movements to \nestablish fraternal relations between these two larg- \nest bodies of American Methodists you have in \nmind. He was appointed chairman of the distin- \nguished delegation \xe2\x80\x94 the lamented Dr. James A. \nDuncan and the venerable Chancellor Garland be- \ning the other members \xe2\x80\x94 that w r as charged with \nthe fraternal salutations of Southern Methodism to \nthe General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal \nChurch, that met in Baltimore, May, 1876. \n\nIt was matter of great regret to both Churches \nthat Dr. Pierce \xe2\x80\x94 hindered by his infirmities \xe2\x80\x94 was \nunable to be present in person. The letter he ad- \ndressed to the General Conference was worthy his \nown character, the great Church he represented, \nand the great cause he sought to serve. No man \nin American Methodism welcomed the tokens of \n\n\n\n48 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nthe sentiment of Christian brotherhood with more \ngratitude than did Dr. Pierce; these " fruits of the \nSpirit" in our common Methodism cheered his de- \nclining years. \n\nTHE MANNER OF HIS DEVELOPMENT. \n\nWe have reserved some glimpses of his methods \nof study, or of the history of his education, till this \npoint in the address, for the reason that he was a \nstudent till the last. His education was never fin- \nished; till late in life he w T as capable of new devel- \nopments and of new acquisitions. \n\nAs to school advantages in his boyhood and youth, \nthey were so meager that they enter into the story \nof his mental development only in this, that he pos- \nsessed the simplest implements of further research \nw T hen he left the old-field school-house. But it is \nplain, from his own account of himself, that when \nhe entered the South Carolina Conference in his \ntwentieth year, he had neither mental training nor \nmental stores. \n\nLet us remember that it is not the mental de- \nvelopment of a scholar, a scientist, a literary man, \nthat we are considering, but the development of a \npreacher. As a preacher, he read, observed, thought. \nWith him the preacher was first; preaching dom- \ninated him from first to last, from the time that he \nwept under overpowering emotions in addressing, \nin his unuttered thoughts, imaginary congregations, \nto his last day, preaching was his uppermost thought \nand deepest study. Underlying this habit of thought \nand feeling was the deepest conviction possible to \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n49 \n\n\n\nthe human mind of his special and divine call to \npreach the gospel. He believed, to use his own \nwords, in "the personal designation of some men \nto the ministry in the mind and purpose of God/\' \nand that he was set apart by the Spirit of God to \nthis greatest work to which human energy can con- \nsecrate itself. He believed further \xe2\x80\x94 and he has left \nthis opinion on record \xe2\x80\x94 that men who are divinely \ndesignated to the work of preaching and who refuse \nto obey the divine call "commit a sin unto death." \n\nLet us see him as he pictured himself when he \nbegan his work. He was eighty-live when he wrote \nof his early days : \n\n" My educational advantages were very limited, \nwhen I entered upon the work of preaching. They \nhave never amounted to much in the way of gen- \neral learning. The proof, however, of my mental \nstructure I infer from my deep sense of the need \nof education and the native readiness with which I \nperceived all manner of irregularities in things vis- \nible, and to which mind had been applied in any \nartistic sense, as in relation to things level, or per- \npendicular, or straight. With me it was a natural \nnecessity. I could but perceive all these imperfec- \ntions, and being compelled to see new things and \nnew places daily \xe2\x80\x94 almost all of them out of proper \nsquare \xe2\x80\x94 it became an annoyance to me. But my \nview now is that mind is a unit \xe2\x80\x94 all of a piece \xe2\x80\x94 if \nperfect in its perceptive capacity. Hence it came \nto pass, when my duty called me in that direction, \nI found that, in some way, this perceiving capacity \nwas operated on as readily through my hearing as \n4 \n\n\n\n50 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nmy seeing, and so bad language in composition, or \npreaching, and especially in the latter \xe2\x80\x94 where most \nI met with it \xe2\x80\x94 grated on some sense of mine, so as \nunpleasantly to affect me, and drive me to inquire \nafter a better way, and to learn the philosophy of \nlanguage. So that long before I knew any thing of \ngrammar as grammar, when some blunderbus, with \napparent pomp, would open his discourse with, \'My \ntext are a copious subject,\' it came over my feelings, \neven then, with a sense of shame and disgust. Un- \nder the embarrassing want of education, for awhile \nI undertook to improve my language by a close ob- \nservance of the language of the best speakers, and \nbecame greatly interested in the pleadings of the \nbar, and was, fortunately for me, my own judge \nof good speaking/\' \n\nWe have in this extract, we take it, a rare bit \nof mental history, and one that deserves the most \nthoughtful consideration. \n\nLet us remember that young preachers had not \nthen a "Conference Course of Study." In the \nMinutes of the old Georgia Conference, the first \ngerms of a course of study appear at that one Con- \nference that Bishop Emory held in Georgia. And \nI am much inclined to believe that Dr. Pierce in- \nspired the request of the Conference that induced \nthe good and scholarly Bishop to draw up the out- \nlines of a course of study for young preachers. For \nour improved methods we never will know how \nmuch we owe to the original and fruitful mind of \nLovick Pierce. \n\nThe fact is, he learned language almost without \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n51 \n\n\n\nbooks, as he learned to be a preacher without teach- \ners or models. His account of the method he em- \nployed in learning the philosophy of correct and \nforcible speech reminds us of the Scotch Furguson \nlearning astronomy while he watched his sheep un- \nder the starlight on the hills, and of Hugh Miller \nlearning geology while he dressed stone in the quar- \nries of Cromarty. \n\nDr. Pierce would have been the last man to argue \nfrom his own experience that young preachers do \nnot need thorough scholastic training. For nearly \nfifty years he gave his great influence to building \n"up our colleges. And it is worthy of mention that \nas a trustee of Emory College and of Wesleyan \nFemale College he always stood up for the most \nthorough work, and for the highest standard in \ntheir curriculum. And it was never in his thoughts \nthat he would not have been a greater and more \nuseful man than he was if he had been favored with \nbetter training and richer stores in the outset of his \nministry. He would have counted such a sentiment \namong the " low-bred enthusiasms " which he repro- \nbated so earnestly. \n\nHIS INDEBTEDNESS TO GEORGE DOUGHERTY. \n\nDuring his first year God sent him a wise friend \nin the person of George Dougherty, who was the \nonly preacher of that day with whom he came in \ncontact who had any marked literary tastes or at- \ntainments. Many of us have heard him speak with \nenthusiasm of this gifted and consecrated Irishman. \nDougherty came to the young itinerant, hungering \n\n\n\n52 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nand thirsting after knowledge, as a gracious provi- \ndence. To how many young preachers has Lovick \nPierce been a providence! (If I may be pardoned \na personal remark right here, I will say that for \ntwenty years I have owed him a debt of gratitude \nthat can never be paid.) George Dougherty came \nat a crisis in his intellectual history. Here is what \nDr. Pierce says of his early friend: \n\n"To an incidental remark of George Dougherty, \nmade to me in the autumn of 1805 \xe2\x80\x94 my first itin- \nerant year, he being my presiding elder \xe2\x80\x94 I owe the \nfirst inspiration of an outspread of my mind into \nthe regions ahead. He heard me exhort \xe2\x80\x94 not with \nmy knowledge, but by lying in wait to see what he \nshould say of me, I suppose. Being thrown to- \ngether at night, he asked me, \'Have you ever read \nPaley\'s Moral Philosophy?\' I told him, \'No; I have \nnever seen it.\' To which he replied, 6 Get it, and \nread it, and it will make a man of you. But do n\'t \nyou read it and think you are a philosopher.\' The \nspeech w T as brief, but it was enough. To be made \na man of \xe2\x80\x94 and not in this sense, to think myself \nsomething while I was really nothing \xe2\x80\x94 was my ideal \nin desire." \n\nHe lost no time in getting the book and studying \nit profoundly. It " unsealed the fountains." It set \nhim to revolving the great moral questions which \noccupied him all his clays. We must not overlook \nhis own reflections on the influence of this great \nwork on his subsequent development: \n\n"The arguing of these questions in my mind \xe2\x80\x94 in \nso far as Dougherty\'s prediction has come to pass \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n53 \n\n\n\nconcerning me \xe2\x80\x94 made me the man I am, although \nit is a small one. And now suppose I had missed \nthis advice and been led off* on some unprofitable \nspeculation, .... does not any man, with any \nmental philosophy, see that my mental resources \nwould have been impoverished, by the perpetual \nslavery of a one-idea delusion, instead of the free, \nuntrammelecl investigation of moral science, upon \nthe basis of God\'s indications of human compari- \nson and relationship? In my study of moral phi- \nlosophy, I made it my stand-point to argue moral \nphilosophy alone from the views of the divine will, \ngiven to us in God\'s revelation of himself to man. \nIt has been my good fortune, small as the stock of \nmy mental capital was, to do a very fair business on \nit, mainly, I think, because I \' went out and traded \nwith the same.\'" \n\nAbout this time another and very different book \nfell into his hands, his experience with which he \ntells us: \n\n"In my early times as an itinerant, there was lit- \ntle to inspire a young beginner in the way of liter- \nary taste or attainments. All were alike unlearned \nin letters, save Dougherty. And, as might have \nbeen expected, \' Simeon\'s Skeleton Sermons\' were \nall the go for awhile. Accordingly I made haste to \nget a copy; and it was well I did. The contempt I \nfelt for the book, and for myself, when I waked up \nto the littleness of employing another man\'s mind \nto do my thinking and planning for me, was an- \nother upward step in my mental pathway." \n\nAgainst "skeleton sermons," ancient and modern, \n\n\n\n54 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nhe enters his solemn and vehement protest. And \nnearly as strong is his protest against musty manu- \nscripts. \n\nPREACHING "OUT OF SEASON." \n\nOne more salient point in the history of his men- \ntal development we must consider for a moment. \nHe observed that many preachers were in the habit \nof excusing themselves from preaching "out of sea- \nson" on the ground that they had not had time to \n"study their texts." He says: \n\n"They had fallen into the idea that any subject \nthey intended to announce must be studied just as \nan advancing boy would study his next lesson in \ngrammar. I did not so understand it. I could not \nsee why a man engaged in the regular practice of \npreaching should need more than ten or fifteen min- \nutes to prepare to preach from any common text, \nand these are the only sort a man of good sense \nwill ever undertake to do common preaching from." \n\nOf his own plan, he says: \n\n"Instead of studying every text to see how it \ncould be applied to the general scheme of Christian \ntheology, I studied theology systematically." \n\nThis was the great secret of his peculiar gift of \npowerful preaching on short notice; he "studied \ntheology systematically." To use one of his own \nexpressions, what he wanted, when his mind settled \ndown on a text, was to have time to " put the text \non its basis." He looked to the context \xe2\x80\x94 to what \nwent before, to what came after; he considered \nwhat the doctrine of the text was; he rapidly ar- \nranged the order in which he would discuss the \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n55 \n\n\n\ntopics it contained; and having previously studied \nthe doctrine of the text, as a part of systematic \ntheology, he was ready to preach it. It was the \ndifference between a doctor who studies the symp- \ntoms of each case only and one who studies the \nhuman body and disease in all their relatious; be- \ntween the lawyer who hunts up law for a special \ncase and one who studies the great principles of \nlaw that must apply to all cases. \n\nA BORN PREACHER. \n\nIf ever there was a born preacher, Dr. Pierce was \nthat man. He had emphatically a preaching mind, \na preaching heart, and a preaching temperament. \nI had almost said, and a preaching body, for his \nperson graced the pulpit, and his whole physical \nmake-up was admirably fitted for powerful preach- \ning. \n\nHis rapid and vehement delivery during the early \nyears of his ministry nearly cost him his life. See- \ning his error, he determined to reform and learn to \nspeak naturally. It took him two years to learn \nthe lesson; but he did learn it, and so thoroughly, \nthat, for more than sixty years, he was perhaps the \nmost easy and natural speaker among all his breth- \nren. Indeed, he learned so fully the art of speak- \ning and breathing that it became a sort of wonder \nthat he could speak so long, so constantly, and, on \noccasion, so loud, without injury or even fatigue, so \nfar as mere speaking was concerned. After he was \nseventy-five years old, he thought nothing of preach- \ning two hours at a time for four successive days at \n\n\n\n56 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\na camp-meeting. At the close of the meeting his \nvoice would be full, round, and smooth, still capable \nof its greatest exertions. \n\n*He loved to preach "in season and out of sea- \nson" \xe2\x80\x94 as one renders it, "conveniently and incon- \nveniently." He had little patience with men who \nstand in such fear of their reputation that they can- \nnot preach without special preparation. He would \npreach before any congregation on five minutes\' \nnotice, if necessary. No one ever heard him de- \ncline preaching on the ground that he was not pre- \npared. He held with Wesley and the men of his \nday that "a Methodist preacher should be always \nready to preach and to die." And he was. \n\nIt seemed very easy for him to preach without \nspecial preparation. Some years ago, he wrote out \nan able and elaborate treatise showing the methods \nof study that make such results not only possible \nbut easy. Unfortunately for us all, the carefully \nprepared manuscript was destroyed by the Publish- \ning House fire in the city of Nashville. \n\nBut this much we know: He was always think- \ning, and, as a matter of course, there was always \nsomething to say. We doubt whether, during the \nlast sixty years, he ever turned over the leaves of \nhis Bible to " hunt for a text." His mind was full \nof texts and themes. To the very last he was con- \nstantly "breaking up new ground." Time and \nagain we have heard him discuss texts he had never \nhandled before. Notably, after a spell of sickness \nand enforced abstinence from preaching there was \nsure to follow a crop of new sermons. \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n57 \n\n\n\nPreaching was a holy luxury to him. He was \nnever so happy as when in the pulpit, except, indeed, \nit was when he saw souls blessed under his ministry. \nPulpit work was to him a sort of medicine. In his \nlater years he would often drag himself wearily into \nthe pulpit, preach an hour or two, and walk away \nerect and with elastic step. \n\nIn the days of his prime \xe2\x80\x94 indeed, till he was past \neighty \xe2\x80\x94 his voice was an instrument of marvelous \npower. Smooth, flexible, musical, ample, it was \ncapable of the highest uses of sacred eloquence. \n\nA BIBLE BELIEVER AND STUDENT \n\nDr. Pierce was emphatically a student of the Bi- \nble. He believed it with an absolute, unquestioning \nfaith, and he pondered its great truths with ever \nnew delight. He knew the contents of the sacred \nvolume beyond most men of his time. It was not \nthe knowledge of mere memory; his preaching was \nnot the recitation of a string of texts. Bible truth \nwas " bread of life" to him. He fed upon it, di- \ngested it, assimilated it. It became part of his \nmental substance \xe2\x80\x94 bone and muscle, nerve and \nsinew. \n\nThere was great variety in his preaching, but it \nwas the variety of the Scriptures and of nature, and \nnot of science, history, or literature. In his ser- \nmons and writings we recognize the Bible origin \nof his great thoughts. Like sandal-wood, their \nsweet fragrance betrayed the place of their growth, \nmeet them where you might. So diligent a student \nof the Bible would, of course, " bring forth out of \n\n\n\n58 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce, \n\n\n\nhis treasures things new and old, 55 for the Bible \ncontains as infinite variety as God\'s other great \nbook, Nature, so deep, so high, and so wide. \n\nHe deprecated the abject dependence on commen- \ntaries which some preachers manifest. He listened \nto " authorities," but he did not give himself away \nto them. He honored critical learning, but he did \nnot surrender his great Protestant right of " private \njudgment" to the masters of Greek roots and He- \nbrew vowels* His creative powers were not stran- \ngled by the grave-clothes of " the Fathers," nor \nsmothered by the weight of modern books, nor \nconfused by the dissonance of conflicting opinions. \nWhat are known as " skeletons of sermons" he \nsimply abhorred. He believed, aud with reason, \nthat their use works the paralysis and death of all \noriginal, creative thinking -power. It disgusted \nhim to see a man to whom God had given a good \npair of legs walking on crutches. He himself used \ncommentaries sparingly; he had no whimsical prej- \nudice against them; he did not seem to feel the need \nof them. As between a first-class work on system- \natic theology and a first-class commentary, he would \nchoose the first every time. \n\nEXPOSITION AND EXEGESIS. \n\nIn the days of his power, he was counted, by good \njudges, the foremost expository preacher among his \nbrethren. If we may make a distinction, sometimes \noverlooked, his preaching was expository rather \nthan exesretical. His bent of mind inclined him to \nexposition rather than exegesis, and his method of \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n59 \n\n\n\nstudy confirmed his original inclination. With \nwhat is known as "scientific exegesis" he was not \nfamiliar; indeed, he had no great love for this sort \nof work; nor did his early training, his mental \nhabits, or his methods of study, fit him for it. \n\nHe dealt less with the linguistic technicalities and \nniceties of his texts than with their great substan- \ntial truths. He did not believe that the wise and \ngood God had given to his children a system of re- \nligion and then locked all its treasures in an intri- \ncate and technical terminology that defied the com- \nmon sense of mankind. Without troubling himself \nwith minute verbal criticisms, he brought out the \ngreat truths of the texts he discussed with breadth \nand power. He rarely took short texts; when he \ndid, he " related them " to their context so as to give \nhis great, broad mind scope and verge. He wanted \nthe broad bay or the open sea to move in; the nar- \nrow banks of a canal he could not endure. If we \nhave " Great Easterns," we must have sea-room for \nthem. They would destroy the canals could they \nmove in them. But canals are very useful, and \ncanal-boats should stick to them. What is called \n"topical preaching," with its triad of divisions and \nsubdivisions, he did not relish. Yet he was emi- \nnently a preacher of doctrines; but the doctrine \ngrew out of the text \xe2\x80\x94 the text was not sought out \nthat it might sustain a preconceived theory of doc- \ntrine. \n\n\n\n60 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nHIS SERMONIZING. \n\nThere was nothing mechanical or artificial in his \nsermonizing. His sermons grew like great forest- \ntrees in virgin loam \xe2\x80\x94 some of them like the Red- \nwood cedars of California; they were not built \nlike brick-walls, by the mere accretion of discon- \nnected parts. They grew from a principle of life \nwithin ; they were evolutions from some great germ- \nthought that he found in his text. If they had, \nboth as to their structure and character, the vast \nvariety of nature, they also had its pleasing unity. \n\nTo every man his own method, so it be his best \nmethod. " The tools to him who can use them," \nwas a maxim of the great Corsican. If one man \nhas a gift for landscape-gardening, or for arranging \na parterre of flowers with pretty contrasts of color, \nwe will not despise his gift. If one, in a thousand \ncan grow a great forest with dense shadows under \nits lofty trees, brightened here and there with \npatches of green and sunshine \xe2\x80\x94 with its vast soli- \ntudes, rich in nature\'s treasures and musical w^ith \nnature\'s harmonies \xe2\x80\x94 we will not, if we are wise, dis- \ncredit him because his trees are not trimmed into \nartificial shapes, nor planted with the exact meas- \nurements and precise order one may sometimes ob- \nserve in a public garden. \n\nThere was logic in his preaching, but not logical \nformulae. Syllogistic bones did not show themselves. \nHis arguments were not " articulated " after the \nmanner of the " prepared" specimens the skeleton- \nfitters furnish, but after the manner of nature in a \nliving, vigorous man. Joints there were, strong and \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n61 \n\n\n\nsupple \xe2\x80\x94 but the full muscle and the smooth skin of \nvigorous, healthy life concealed their protuberances. \n\nOf moral truths and their relations he had such \nintuitive perception that he did not often give the \nprocesses of his own mind in discovering them. \nHe dealt with conclusions and applications rather \nthan with premises. \n\nHIS BISCURSIONS AND PARENTHESES. \n\nHe indulged himself, at times, in large discursions. \nLeaving the main channel, he would explore, for a \ntime, the affluents of his themes. But there was \nlittle danger to him; he who sails the Amazon will \nhardly find shallow water in the great currents that \nmake into it. But he never forgot his points of de- \nparture and landing. He knew where he was going, \nand, in his own way and time, he would return with \nrenewed zest to the main lines of his discourses. \n\nSome of his parentheses were as long and involved \nas De Quincey\'s, but when the wide swing of his dis- \ncursive thoughts was accomplished, he would wind \nup the sentence or paragraph in harmony with its \nbeginnings. The parentheses of some speakers are \nthe dark places in their thoughts, where they do not \nunderstand themselves, and grope their way like the \nexplorers of unlighted caverns; Dr. Pierce\'s paren- \ntheses were bright as broad avenues flooded with \nlight. Often they sparkled with refined wit, bub- \nbled over with chaste humor, or melted with pure \npathos. \n\nThe use of the pen \xe2\x80\x94 against which he warned his \nbrethren \xe2\x80\x94 in his pulpit preparations would have \n\n\n\n62 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\ncorrected this habit. Whether it would have been \na gain to him we cannot determine. Possibly it \nmight have cramped him overmuch, and lost him \nfreedom and power where it gained him directness \nand precision. But we are sure that young men \nwill find it dangerous to imitate the great master \ntoo closely. The arm that can hurl a javelin with \nforce may not lift a spear large as a weavers beam. \nEven David could not fight in the armor of King \nSaul. Better for him his shepherd\'s sling and the \nsmooth stones out of the brook. \n\nPRACTICAL AND ORIGINAL. \n\nDr. Pierce was not given to speculative theology. \nHe dealt chiefly in the great practical doctrines that \nlie at the roots of religious experience and Christian \nethics. And in this department he was a man of \nmight, whose peer it would be hard to find. He \nbrought out the great truths of a text and applied \nthem to the conscience with rare power, sometimes \nwith overwhelming force. \n\nHis preaching was bold in its thinking; his mind \nmade its own orbit, and he moved in it without fear. \nGod gave him great powers of original thought, and \nhe honored the Giver by both trusting and using \nthem. He put his foot down firmly as on a rock \nwhere many gifted men would step cautiously, as \nif they suspected concealed quicksands to swallow \nthem up. Occasionally he startled his hearers by \nthe boldness and sweep of his statements. But it \nwas the belief that he had Scripture under him that \ngave him such preaching courage. \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n63 \n\n\n\nHis absolute faith in the word of God gave an \nassurance to his preaching that idle hearers some- \ntimes mistook for dogmatism. But dogmatism, in \nthe sinister sense of the term, was utterly foreign to \nhis nature. He did not indulge it himself; he could \nnot abide it in others. How could a man saturated \nwith the sense and sentiments, the truth and spirit \nof the Bible, and who felt upon his soul the movings \nof the Holy Ghost, preach otherwise than with apos- \ntolic authority? \n\nHe had the gift of original expression as fully as \nthat of original conception. It would be easy to \ngive hundreds of examples. For half a century their \nrepetition has enriched many a fireside talk. And \nthese unique, idiomatic expressions were coined when \nneeded. He rarely repeated them. Some of them \nwere as quaint as any thing in Bunyan or Quesnel. \nBut there was the truth of nature in them all. \n\nTHE POWER OF HIS PREACHING. \n\nIt is difficult for this generation to understand \nwhat the old people tell of the power of his preach- \ning in the days of his middle-life vigor. But the \ntradition is uniform as to his transcendent power \nover the human heart and conscience when the holy \nfire touched his lips and flamed out in his words. \nAnd there was always the indication of reserved \npower that deepened the impression he made upon \nhis hearers. \n\nUpon one ever-memorable occasion he preached \nto a great congregation in Morgan county, Georgia, \nupon EzekiePs vision of the valley of dry bones. \n\n\n\n64 \n\n\n\nLOVICK PlEPwCE. \n\n\n\nOn and on he went in his argument, painting with \nwords of fire the world\'s misery and its sins, till the \nlistening multitude were appalled. They felt as if \nthey stood at the base of Sinai, wrapped in clouds, \nquaking with thunder, and flaming with lightning. \nAnd then the preacher turned their gaze to Calvary, \nand he seemed to be transfigured before their eyes. \nHe held up the cross as Moses held up the brazen \nserpent in the wilderness, and bade the people look \nand live! The great preacher held and mastered \nhis congregation through four long hours of such \nargument and appeal as were perhaps never sur- \npassed. It is matter of history that nearly three \nhundred people were converted, and ascribed their \nawakening to that tremendous sermon. \n\n"We mention another instance of the power of this \nmaster of assemblies. In 1806 \xe2\x80\x94 the second year of \nhis itinerant ministry \xe2\x80\x94 a great camp-meeting was \nheld at Smyrna, not far from the town in which he \ndied. We quote the account from Bishop McTyeire\'s \nsketch of Richmond Nolley \xe2\x80\x94 one of the first Meth- \nodist preachers who crossed the Mississippi, and \nwho, after hard service, died alone in the swamps of \nLouisiana. Nolley was one of the converts of that \ncamp-meeting. The Bishop writes: \n\n"An immense crowd, estimated at ten thousand, \nattended. It was impossible for them all to be \nseated under the arbor, so a strong young preacher \nwas detailed to an opening near the camp-ground, \nthere to preach to as many as might gather around \nhim. Lovick Pierce stood upon the table and an- \nnounced his text, Rom. vi. 6 \xe2\x80\x94 \'Knowing this, that \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n65 \n\n\n\nour old man is crucified with him, that the body of \nsin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should \nnot serve sin.\' To get the attention of his promis- \ncuous assembly, the preacher began with rather a \nfacetious description of the 6 old man;\' and, having \nattracted his hearers, proceeded to give a shocking \naccount of his conduct, crimes, and excesses. He \nthen sent forth Moses, as the high-sheriff of the \nrealm, who arrested him. Having described his \ntrial and condemnation, he sentenced the old man \nto be crucified. Reared upon the accursed tree, his \ncrucifixion was begun, when, suddenly, a young \nlady, as if pierced by an. arrow, ran weeping from \nthe outskirts of the audience, and, falling near the \ntable, cried for mercy, and entreated the prayers of \nthose around. The preacher immediately stopped \nhis sermon and called for mourners. A simulta- \nneous movement toward him followed. The people \nfell upon their knees, and groans, and prayers, and \npraise were mingled. This work continued through \nthe remainder of the day and the succeeding night. \nOver one hundred souls professed conversion around \nthat table." Nolley was among them. \n\nREBUKING. \n\nHis power of invective, when he chose to strip \nhypocrisy of its phylacteries, was only equaled by \nthe pathos of his consolations when he felt moved \nto "speak comfortably" to God\'s people. Popular \nvices, the inconsistencies of professors of religion, \npride and vanity, unbelief and worlclliness, received \nno favor when they put themselves in his way. We \n\n5 \n\n\n\n66 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nmay say, without disrespect to his honored memory, \nthat some of his most loving friends sometimes re- \ngretted that he did not, particularly in the later \nyears of his illustrious ministry, more frequently \npreach upon the softer and more consoling themes \nof religion. When he did, he swept every thing \nbefore him. But so profound and life-long was his \nloyalty to the Church, so great was his holy jeal- \nousy for her honor, so high was his ideal of what \npersonal religion ought to be, so deep was his sor- \nrow over the wounds dealt to the body of Christ in \nthe house of unfaithful children, so pure and blame- \nless was his own life, that even those who sometimes \nwearied under his iterations, on the subjects that \noften engaged his thoughts, forgot their impatience \nin their tender love and profound veneration for the \ngreat and holy man who, at times, so sternly re- \nbuked their failures and follies, their short-comings, \nand their sins. We can but believe that the ser- \nmons that were least relished, and the articles from \nhis busy and fruitful pen that were least popular, \nwill bear fruit now that he has passed from the \nsight and hearing of men. Thousands will be more \ndevout because he told them of their faults, and be \nthe better prepared to die because he rebuked their \nerrors. \n\nWe give one specimen of his power in rebuking \ncovetousness. He was preaching on the sin of lay- \ning up treasures on earth. He brought it home to \nhis hearers as follows: \n\n"Go out and look toward heaven, and say : 6 God, \na new year is beginning. We want wind, and rain, \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n67 \n\n\n\nand sunshine, the regular order of the seasons, the \nfertility of the soil, the germinating quality of the \nseed, and all these in that harmonious adjustment \nof times and relations that will insure as a rich \nharvest and multiplied bags of cotton. God, send \nthese, and health, and friends; for we intend to \nrevel upon the good things of thy providence; but \nlet it be distinctly understood that we do not intend \nto yield a single dollar to the support of thy cause \nin the earth, until we have feathered our nests to \nour own liking.\' Attempt this if you dare; and \nyou will feel that lightning ought to strike you be- \nfore you get through with your petition. And yet \nthis is the plain English of w T hat you are doing!" \n\nA KINDLY HEART. \n\nThere never was, in all our acquaintance with \nmen or women, a more kindly, loving heart. In \nhis personal intercourse in the thousands of families \nthat counted it an honor to entertain him, he was \nas gentle and loving as St. John. Indeed, his gifts \nof intellect were only surpassed by his capacity for \nloving. Little children, that at his first coming to \na house looked upon him with awe as they tried to \nrealize his great age, and did realize the sanctity of \nhis character, soon came to love him fondly. There \nwas not a more beautiful thing in Hancock county \nthan the clinging love for " old grandpa" of the \n" old Doctor\'s" descendants to the third and fourth \ngeneration. As Motley says of the Prince of Orange, \nwe may say of Dr. Pierce, " When he died, little \nchildren cried in the streets." \n\n\n\n68 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN GENTLEMAN. \n\nIll his personal habits he was the embodiment of \nneatness and propriety. He had an inborn respect \nfor the "fitness of things." He always looked \n" dressed; " during war times the home-made wool- \nens of the Confederacy looked better on him than \non anybody else. Of rude things, in speech or ac- \ntion, he was incapable. He was counted a model \nChristian gentleman in his intercourse with society. \nMen and women felt at home with him while they \nrevered him. Among the lowly he was welcomed \nas a friend; among the rich and great his stately \nmanners commanded admiration. His exquisite \nsense of propriety never forsook him and never de- \nceived him. His personal bearing had something \nof the cultivated soldier in it; and there was some- \nthing of the soldier in his heart. Child-like in the \nsweet simplicity of his character, he was also one \nof the manliest of men. \n\nHe eschewed the habit, which bad or ill-bred peo- \nple cultivate, of gossiping idly about their neigh- \nbors\' weaknesses. He never "took up a reproach \nagainst his neighbor." If evil rumors reached him \nthey grieved him deeply, and were believed reluc- \ntantly. An indelicate word I never heard him ut- \nter; a vulgar anecdote, I am sure, never, during the \nseventy-five years of his ministry, escaped his lips. \nHis thoughts were clean as his speech was pure. \n\nPROGRESSIVE AND CONSERVATIVE. \n\nAlthough we despair of treating our theme as it \ndeserves, we must mention some other traits in his \n\n\n\nLovick PlEiiCE. \n\n\n\n69 \n\n\n\nmanifold character. He united in himself, in a \nmarvelous manner, the instincts of progress and \nconservatism. On the vital points of Methodist \ndoctrine and Christian experience, he stood by the \n"old paths" with the heroism of Leonidas and his \nSpartans, dying at the pass of Thermopylae. But \nin matters of Church polity he was ever ready to \nadopt new methods when convinced of their utility. \nThe sweeping and radical changes inaugurated by \nour General Conference at Hew Orleans, in 1866, \nhe not only contemplated without alarm, but favored \nas to their more important features. What he did \nnot favor he w r as willing to try thoroughly, and to \nhelp, by earnest cooperation, to defeat his own pre- \ndictions and to reverse his own judgments. This \nleads us to say that his intellectual candor was in \nkeeping with his moral sincerity. Conscience dom- \ninated his intellect as fully as it ruled his life. \n\nIt was this candid, progressive spirit, united to \ngreat kindliness of heart, that helps us to under- \nstand one fact of his history that is quite anoma- \nlous. He had outlived every contemporary; every \nfriend of his youth w r as dead; few acquaintances \nof his middle life remained; yet he gathered around \nhim, through each successive generation, hosts of \nloving, devoted friends. In his ninety -fifth year he \nhad the confidences of mere boys in the ministry. \nThere was less isolation about him than any old \nman we ever knew. It was as beautiful as it was \nsurprising. \n\n\n\n70 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nWHAT INTERESTED HIM. \n\nCeaseless activity was the law of his mind. Called \nto his room on one occasion, in a Georgia city, we \nfound him, while waiting over a clay, reading with \neager interest a treatise on the Constitution of the \nUnited States. He was then eighty-two years old. \nNew books, on themes that interested him, he read \nwith zest. What we call "literature" did not in- \nterest him much; poetry he rarely read; works of \nfiction, never. The Church journals he read regu- \nlarly and eagerly; but the stately review pleased \nhim more than the lighter newspaper. The discus- \nsion of doctrine, the recital of experience, tidings \nfrom the field, caught his eye and enlisted his heart. \n\nThe great enterprises of the Church found in him \nan ever-faithful and able friend. The educational \nwork of the Church engaged his deepest and most \nunflagging interest. He was among the pioneers \nin the work of sanctified learning in Georgia. He \nwas the first Agent, as his distinguished son was \nthe first President, of Wesleyan Female College \xe2\x80\x94 \nthe first of the kind and grade in the world. He \njoined his prayers with those of other fathers in the \nfounding of Emory College. He was a trustee from \nthe beginning of both these honored institutions. \nXo man among us ever so nobly magnified the office \nof trustee of our institutions of learning. He made \nit a point of honor and conscience to be present \nevery time at the regular and called meetings. He \nwas present the first hour, and he remained to the \nlast. There was never such a listener to school-girl \ncompositions and school-boy speeches. Time and \n\n\n\nLoyick Pierce. \n\n\n\n71 \n\n\n\na^ain we have seen him sit through four hours of \ncommencement exercises, shaming by his example \n,many younger men (may we be forgiven for our \nown short-comings!) who had not his patience or \nhis fortitude. \n\nIn the missionary movements of the Church he \nwas profoundly concerned; he wept tears of delight \nwhen he read or heard of God\'s blessings on the \nforeign as well as the home missionary. He was \nthe earnest advocate of the Bible cause, and was at \none time the Agent of the American Bible Society \nin Georgia. He was among the first to see the \npower that was in the Sunday-school movement ; he \ngave it his whole heart: served its interests as agent \nfor a number of years, and saw in its possibilities \nthe dawning of millennial triumph. \n\nIn a word, he gave his hand and heart to every \ngood and noble cause that promised to bring glory \nto God or blessing to mankind. \n\nBut the characteristic anxiety of his heart was \nthis: That the Church would keep itself pure. Ho- \nliness of heart and of life was with him the supreme \nend of all preaching, and of all Church enterprise. \nHe cared little for things that did not make men \nmore Christ-like. \n\nf THE HIGH PROOF OF HIS SANCTIFICATIOM \n\nDr. Pierce always preached the possibility and \nduty of higher religious experience than is common \nto believers. The characteristic of his own expe- \nrience was a longing for better things. He was \nnever satisfied with his attainments. He <; hungered \n\n\n\n72 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nand thirsted after righteousness/" He could say \nwith the psalmist, ; -As the hart pauteth after the \nwater-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, God I M \nHe has, of late years particularly, urged upon us all \nthe great doctrine of "holiness," " sanctification," \n" Christian perfection." While speaking of his own \nattainments with the most unaffected diffidence, he \nevinced this high evidence that he had experienced \nthe great blessing; \xe2\x80\x94 he was not intolerant of breth- \nren who did not agree with him in his statement \nof the doctrine. \n\nTHE SECRETS AXT) LESSOXS OF SUCH A LIFE. \n\nLovick Pierce M served his generation according \nto the will of God."\'\' He worked out the problem \nof his life according to the divine plan. He stood \nby the divine constitution; he built upon the divine \nfoundation; he succeeded beyond any man of his \ntime among us. In our Church and in our State \nhe was the man of the century. Let us consider \nbriefly the secret springs that moved him, and the \nmighty motives that inspired him. \n\n1. I mention first, as underlying and conditioning \nall that followed, a sound religious experience. To \nuse his own words. " he was convicted of sin as well \nas for sin; he repented; he confessed his sins; he \nsought pardon through our Lord Jesus Christ, and \na new heart by the \xe2\x80\xa2 washing of regeneration.\' He \nfound pardon; he was converted ; born again; 6 cre- \nated anew in Christ Jesus.\'" \n\n2. One explanation of his character and work \nwas his full and unquestioning faith in the truth of \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n73 \n\n\n\nthe gospel. He believed the Bible \xe2\x80\x94 all of it \xe2\x80\x94 as a \nchild believes its mother. It was the man of his \ncounsel \xe2\x80\x94 a lamp to his feet and a light to his path. \nIt was to him God\'s word and will \xe2\x80\x94 the law of his \nlife, from which there was no appeal. \n\n3. In his personal religious experience he had the \n" witness of the Spirit bearing witness with his own \nspirit that he was a child of God." No earthly \nmisfortunes \xe2\x80\x94 no losses, nor afflictions, nor bereave- \nments, cost him such grief as "grieving the Holy \nSpirit." He rejoiced and he was strong because he \ncould say, " I know whom I have believed." There \nwere, indeed, times \xe2\x80\x94 especially when his nervous \nsystem was shattered- by disease \xe2\x80\x94 when his sky was \novercast with flitting clouds, that appeared sudden- \nly but did not linger long. He had, it is but truth \nto say it, his moments of depression. These low \ntides of religious feeling did not originate in skep- \nticism; doubts of God, his word, his providence, \nseemed never to enter his mind. The noisy and \nboastful declarations of our modern materialism did \nnot disturb his serenity; they were no more than \nChinese gongs and Bengal lanterns to his trained \nmind and steadfast purpose. There were moments \nof profound dissatisfaction with himself, and we \nrejoice that it was so. For he was as instructive to \nus all in his hours of depression as in his sunlit \nmoments of pulpit triumph and spiritual ecstasy. \nHe had not a grander characteristic than his stead- \nfast purpose to do his whole duty. His " eye " was \n"single," and his conscience and will true to Christ \n\xe2\x80\x94 the King of his soul and the Lord of his life. He \n\n\n\n74 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nwas sometimes like a noble ship, tossed by storms \nand wrapped about with clouds, and that seems to \nthe unskilled in navigation to have lost its reckon- \ning. But through tempest and darkness the needle \npoints straight to its star. So with our sometimes \ntempted but ever victorious father. He pressed \nstraight on in his duty, whether joyful or despond- \nent. He fully illustrated the great Wesleyan maxim \nthat we must "trample under foot that enthusiastic \ndoctrine that wq are not to do good unless our hearts \nbe free to it." No wonder such a man, a few weeks \nbefore his departure, sent word to the Church, " I am \njust outside the gate of heaven;" that he said to a \nloving friend, when he was daily expecting his sum- \nmons to meet his Lord, "Tell my brethren that I \nam passing over the river of death) on the bridge \nof life, toll free." And so he did. \n\n4. We mention another marked characteristic of \nDr. Pierce as a preacher. Gathering strength with \nhis years, there was in his heart the love of souls \nfor whom Christ died. He had compassion on souls ; \nhe loved men as men, and as redeemed in Christ. \nHe claimed for his Lord the entire race of man, and \nloved every one. As the old preachers used to ex- \npress it, he had on his soul the " weight and burden \nof souls." We have seen him tremble and shake \nunder this Spirit-given consciousness. Woe to the \nChurch whose ministers do not feel the " weight \nand burden of souls!" \n\n5. But if we had to express it all in a single \nphrase, we would say that the secret of his life \xe2\x80\x94 his \npersonal religious life, as well as of his long and \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n75 \n\n\n\nillustrious ministry \xe2\x80\x94 is this: " The love of Christ \nconstrained hini." lie realized the great love that \nChrist bore to him. He read the story of the cross \nas it signified the price paid for his own redemption. \nThe consciousness of the love of Christ laid hold \nupon him, apprehended him, possessed him, came \ninto his heart with the " expulsive power of a new \naffection," and drove out from his thoughts, as \nChrist drove the traders from the temple, the love \nof the world. And out of this lov.e of Christ to \nhim was born his deep, true love to Christ. Truly \nit is said, " We love him because he first loved us." \nBecause he loved Christ, he loved to work for him. \nA few weeks before he was taken from us, he said \nto me, in speaking of some new and brighter views \nof divine things that had come to him, " I would be \nwilling to die if I could finish that." Had it pleased \nGod to move back the wheels of time, and place \nhim, January 1, 1805, at his father\'s door, ready \nto mount his horse for his distant circuit, he would, \nthe day he died, have gladly done it all over again. \n\nWe do not overstate the case when we say that \nthe impress of Dr. Pierce\'s character and work is \nupon all of our Southern Methodism, and preemi- \nnently upon the Methodism of Georgia. He has \nimparted somewhat that was wise and good of him- \nself to three generations of Methodist preachers and \npeople. He will live in our children when we are \ndead and gone from among men. In this respect, \nhis life is so exceptional and unique that those who \ndo not know his history cannot understand the \ndepths, and range, and permanence of his influence. \n\n\n\n76 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nI feel deeply how impossible it is to " draw to the \nlife" the picture of this true teacher, friend, and \nfather of us all. What Tennyson wrote of the \nPrince Consort we may write of Lovick Pierce \xe2\x80\x94 \nwith one exception : \n\n"We have lost him : he is gone ; \nWe know him now: all narrow jealousies \nAre silent ; and we see him as he moved, \nHow modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise, \nWith what sublime repression of himself. \n\nI say, with one exception, for there were no " nar- \nrow jealousies" as toward him \xe2\x80\x94 at least none for a \ngeneration before his departure. Should I not add \na second exception, since we have not, in the deep \nand true sense of things, "lost him 7 \' at all? His \nname and fame, his work and influence, are still \nours, and will be our children\'s after us. \n\nAs to ourselves, we have the memory of his name, \nand his deeds, and the splendor of his example. \n\nHe walked with God; so may we all. He loved \nthe Church; so should we all. He gave himself \nunreservedly to his duty; so ought we all to do. \n\nColumbus \xe2\x80\x94 the city he loved so well \xe2\x80\x94 honored \nitself in the burial of its friend and benefactor. \nThe multitude that followed him to his rest paid a \nsplendid tribute to personal character. His coffin \nand his grave, as was fitting, were covered with fair \nwhite flowers and sprigs of evergreen. It was meet \nthat such a hero and conqueror should be buried \nwith garlands about him. \n\nThere w T ere some beautiful coincidences in his \ndeath. His soul departed as the church -bells \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\n77 \n\n\n\nwere calling the people to the house of God. For \nnearly three hours he had not spoken. The sweet \ntones of the evening-bells seemed to catch his ear \nfor an instant; he made his last deliberate muscular \neffort; the old habit came upon him strong; with \na great exertion he placed his hands as in the \nattitude of prayer. And God heard him. Before \nthe sound of the bells had died away, the songs of \nthe ransomed and the music of angelic harps had \nfilled his soul. \n\nWe can but notice the coincidence in our long- \ndelayed winter and his greatly prolonged life. It \nwas near the middle of November, but the songs \nof the harvest had not died away, and the woods \nand fields were still glorious in scarlet, and purple, \nand gold. He lived among men for nearly one \nhundred years, but he was not like a tree stripped \nof its foliage \xe2\x80\x94 naked, bare, and cold under wintry \nskies. His faculties of intellect and affection were \nmarvelously spared to him, and when he died the \nreapers were still gathering the harvests of his \nfields, and there was only the autumn splendor and \nripeness to tell us that the summer of his life was \nover and gone. \n\nThis year of languishing has been a year of use- \nfulness. Many lessons of wisdom have been given \nand received in his sick-room, and from it have \ngone forth, through the religious press, many use- \nful and comforting exhortations. As he lay on his \nbed of suffering, the tree of his religious life bloomed \nand fruited anew. \n\nNow that he is buried, let us recall his life and \n\n\n\n78 \n\n\n\nLovick Pierce. \n\n\n\nworth; let us study its lessons; and at his tomb \nlet us relight our torches, that with renewed zeal \nand a deeper consecration we may "follow him as \nhe followed Christ," and press forward in the \nglorious wars of the King of kings and Lord of \nlords ! \n\n\n\nCHRIST DWELLING IN US. \n\n\n\nEphesians iii. 14-19. \n\n\n\n[COMMENCEMENT SERMON, EMORY COLLEGE, JUNE 27, 1880,] \n\n\n\n. 1 ] J JEgean Sea. In St. Paul\'s time, it was the \ngreatest city of Asia Minor, and was the metropolis \nof the Roman province of Asia. It was Greek in \nits origin, but more than half Oriental in the char- \nacter both of its worship and of its inhabitants. It \nwas a rich, populous, and luxurious city. Its peo- \nple united to the excitability of the Greeks the \ndreamy superstitions of Asia. It was renowned \namong all nations for the worship of Diana, and \nthe practice of magic. It was not the Diana of the \nGreeks; the image of their goddess was rather after \nthe Indian forms. It was a rude image that sym- \nbolized the reproductive and nutritive forces of \nnature. It was kept sacredly in a costly shrine in \nthe interior of the magnificent temple erected to \nher worship. Paul\'s enemy at Ephesus was not the \nproud and sneering philosophy of the Greeks, as \nin Corinth and Athens, but a dark and passionate \nAsiatic superstition. \n\nIn Ephesus Paul taught two full years. His \ntheme was "repentance toward God, and faith to- \nward our Lord Jesus Christ." He taught publicly \nin the lecture-room of Tyrannus, and exhorted the \npeople, Gentiles as well as Jews, from " house to \n\n\n\n\nwas built on some hills near the \n\n\n\n(79) \n\n\n\n80 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nhouse," warning "each one with tears." A large \nChurch grew up under the apostle\'s labors, and be- \ncame, for a long time, a center of Christian influ- \nence throughout Asia Minor. What toils, what \nanxieties, what dangers, what sufferings this Church \nof the Ephesians cost the great missionary of apos- \ntolic times, this history tells us. \n\nIt was characteristic of St. Paul that he watched \nover his spiritual children and longed for their relig- \nious welfare with more than a mother\'s anxious \ntenderness. This spirit appears in many of his \nEpistles. To the Corinthians, of whom grievous \nreports had reached him, he writes: "I am jealous \nover you w T ith a godly jealousy." Over the mistakes \nand misdeeds of the Galatians he wondered and \nwept. The Philippians, whom he calls his "joy \nand crown," he exhorts to "stand fast in the Lord." \nTo the Colossians he writes: "We give thanks to \nGod, and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, pray- \ning for you always, since we heard of your faith in \nChrist, and your love for all the saints." He en- \ntreats the Thessalonians that they " be not shaken \nin mind." Their fidelity cheered and sustained him \nin the midst of " afflictions and distresses," and, \nforgetting both stripes and imprisonments, he tells \nthem exultingly, " Now we live, if ye stand fast in\' \nthe Lord." \n\nThis deep concern for his spiritual children finds \nintense and affecting expression in the prayer which \nis our text to-day. I read it to you \xe2\x80\x94 it is in the \nEpistle written from Rome to the Ephesian Church, \nchapter third, verses fourteen to nineteen: \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\n81 \n\n\n\n"For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of \noar Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole family in \nheaven and earth is named, that he would grant you, \naccording to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened \nwith might by his Spirit in the inner man; that Christ \nmay dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted, \nand grounded in lore, may be able to comprehend with \nall saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, \nand height; and to know the love of Christ, which pass- \neth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fullness \nof God." \n\nBefore considering some of the precious things \ncontained in this prayer of St. Paul \xe2\x80\x94 a prisoner at \nRome, and ready to be " offered up," but forgetful \nof himself in his yearning love for the children God \nhad given him in the gospel \xe2\x80\x94 we may dwell a moment \nupon the apostle\'s point of view. \n\nFirst His conception of God : He is "the Father." \nThis is not a figure; the term indicates a fact and \nexpresses a relation. The Bible doctrine is, God is \nthe "Father of spirits," and therefore, and preemi- \nnently, the Father of man, who is made in his "like- \nness and image." I do not enter upon a discussion \nof this doctrine now. It is everywhere. It is in \nour Lord\'s form of prayer; it is in his most tender \naddresses to his disciples; it is in his last words \nand their promise of "mansions" in our "Father\'s \nhouse." I can only pause long enough to ask you, \nyoung men, to consider what a different universe \nthis is \xe2\x80\x94 what a different being man is \xe2\x80\x94 since the \nthought of God\'s fatherhood has rooted itself in the \nhuman heart to be lost no more forever. For our \n\n\n\n82 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nGod is not a blind, remorseless, arbitrary fate; be \nis not an irresponsible omnipotence; he is not an \ninfinite force; he is not a mere mindless, conscience- \nless, heartless law; he is not simply the Almighty \nRuler of the universe; \xe2\x80\x94 he is the Father of men, \nand " God is love." \n\nThis fact lies back of the creation of man. God \nwas the Father of man before that sin entered into \nhim, and because he was still his Father he found \nredemption for him. So that his fatherhood is man- \nifested to us not simply by his creative power, in \nthat he made us in his own image, but in his re- \ndeeming mercy, in a peculiar and infinitely gracious \nsense, in the gift of his only-begotten Son our Lord \nJesus Christ. \n\nSecond. Paul\'s conception of the Church: It is a \nfamily \xe2\x80\x94 "of whom the whole family in heaven and \nearth is named." \n\nI cannot doubt that Paul intended this phrase, to \nbe all-comprehensive. It takes in all in heaven and \nearth who believe and love Jesus Christ; all the \ngood below; all the saints above; all the angels. \nAnd why not? For in Christ "all things subsist." \nMoreover, wherever, in any time or nation, there is \na soul who, having no knowledge of Christ, devout- \nly, as did Cornelius, follows as best he may such \nlight as he has, that soul is of this " family." Nor \ndo the words leave out utterly the unbelieving chil- \ndren; they are also, in a true and blessed sense, of \nthis family \xe2\x80\x94 not in loving obedience and holy fellow- \nship, it may be, but members of this family in the \nconditions of their creation, in the fact of their re- \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\n83 \n\n\n\ndemption, and in the possibility of their salvation. \nThey are children too. only they have not the hearts \nof children, but of aliens. \n\nThere are many kinds of societies that bind men \ntogether, as we find them in communities, states, \nnations, races. They are held together by the bonds \nof power or of interest. But the Church is a fam- \nily, and its ties are family ties. Paul\'s word is pe- \nculiar, and hardly translatable; it is itself derived \nfrom the word that means father. \n\nLet us remember always the two grand concep- \ntions that underlie and inspire such a prayer as this \n\xe2\x80\x94 God\'s fatherhood, and therefore human brother- \nhood. Let us remember also that it is Jesus Christ \nwho " shows us the Father," and that he also, and \nhe alone, shows us our brother. Jesus Christ is the \ntrue and only revealer of God and man. In him \nwe find God \xe2\x80\x94 our Father; in him we find man \xe2\x80\x94 \nour brother. Without Jesus Christ, we know nei- \nther divine fatherhood nor human brotherhood. \nLaw, nature, force, teach us neither. These doc- \ntrines are not in atoms, molecules, protoplasm. \nThey come not by evolution; Jesus showed them to \nmen, revealing God the Father to his children, and \nman, the brother, to his brother man. \n\nBecause God is our Father, we can pray and be- \nlieve; because man is our brother, we can love him \nand do him good. In our text, St. Paul prays to \nthe Father for the brother. \n\nFor what does he pray? \n\nI. That they may be " strengthened in the inner man." \nThe Bible doctrine of man\'s sin and trouble is \n\n\n\n84 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nthat the "inner man" is corrupted, weakened, and \ndegraded. This inner man, to be saved, must be \npurified, strengthened, ennobled. We will more \neasily catch the meaning of the words " inner man " \nby help of a passage in Corinthians, where St. Paul \nsays, " Though our outward man perish, yet the \ninward man is renewed day by day." It is that \npart of man that does not perish. It is not some- \nthing physical, but spiritual. But it is more than \nwe mean by the words mind, or intellect, as used to \ndistinguish between the thinking power and the \nmoral and emotional faculty and susceptibility. We \nmust not make the definition too narrow, yet it \nmust not be so broad as to lead us astray. It is \nnearly if not quite the equivalent of St. Peter\'s \nphrase, "the hidden man of the heart." Sometimes \nthe word "heart" in the New Testament has the \nwhole force and meaning of St. Paul\'s words, "the \ninner man." When the Scriptures speak of " a new \nheart," the words signify the divine change that is \nwrought in the "inner man." Our Lord uses the \nword "heart" in this broad yet peculiar sense: \n" Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts." He does \nnot mean by heart the emotions only, nor yet the in- \ntellect, but the entire spiritual part of man; that \nwhich differences him from the entire animal creation \n\xe2\x80\x94 that which was capable of being created in the \nimage of God \xe2\x80\x94 that which was capable of losing the \ndivine image by sin \xe2\x80\x94 that which is capable of being \nrenewed in that image by the grace and might of \nthe Holy Ghost. \n\nLet us notice that "inner man" is not the same \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\n85 \n\n\n\nas " fcew man." We may speak of the " inner man " \nof every child of Adam; we speak of the "new \nman" only as to those who have been "created \nanew in Christ Jesus." The "new man" is the \n" new creature" in which the true "inner man,"\' \nrestored to his lost purity and power of right-living, \nbegins to truly live again, rising from the death of \nsin through the life-imparting energy of the quick- \nening and renewing Spirit. \n\nAnd yet if we seek to find the exact truth of St. \nPaul\'s conception, we will rather stress the word \n"heart" than the word "mind," in defining the \nnature of the " inner man." For while sin has un- \nhinged man\'s intellect, it has wrought its direst ruin \nin his affections. It is not so much wrong thinking \nthat characterizes a bad man as wrong feeling; it is \nnot so much a false creed as a bad disposition. \n\nIn saving man, the gospel begins with the "inner \nman." It works from within outward, and not \nfrom without inward. It would secure fruit by \nmaking the tree itself good, not by fastening good \nfruit upon barren limbs with wires and other \nmechanical adjustments. Mere ritualism always \nbegins on the outward man, and it stays there. \nReligion begins with the inner man, and works like \nleaven through the entire lump of his nature and \nlife. Nothing can be plainer, taught by the Script- \nures and clear to common sense; good lives must \nbe the product of good hearts. \n\nBut let us remember that St. Paul makes this \nprayer for regenerate persons. They needed to be \n" strengthened with might by the Spirit in the inner \n\n\n\n86 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nman." The power that is in the " new man " is not \nself-originated; it is imparted. It is God\'s gift. It \nis given by or through the Spirit, whose office it is \nto enlighten, to awaken, to renew, and to sanctify. \nIt is no more a self-sustained than it is a self-origi- \nnated life. It is not a machine wound up and left \nto run of itself. The " new man " can no more re- \ntain the life within him without the Spirit than the \n"old man" could originate it without the Spirit. \nReligion is of the Spirit in its incipiency; so in all \nits progress and triumphs. In the most exclusive \nand absolute sense is it true that, in our spiritual or \nChristian life, "we live, and move, and have our \nbeing " in God. \n\nThe prayer that they may be " strengthened with \nmight" by God\'s "Spirit in the inner man" does \nnot contemplate a mere toning up of man\'s strength, \nbut also the impartation of another, a new, a divine \nmight. The word is elsewhere and in many con- \nnections translated power. It is the equivalent of \nenergy. Man needs this divine creative energy \xe2\x80\x94 \nthe same in essence and power that moved upon the \nface of the deep when it was made quick with life. \nWhen the strengthening Paul prays for is granted \nto a disciple, it is not simply that he is strengthened, \nenergized in his own powers, though he is so \nstrengthened, but that he is strengthened by the gift, \n" according to the riches of God\'s glory," of a power \nfrom above \xe2\x80\x94 of a divine energy that comes into the \n" inner man." \n\nWe may illustrate, though imperfectly. Some- \ntimes a man falls into bodily decay; the blood is \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\n87 \n\n\n\nimpoverished/ but has not lost its vital and restoring \nquality; this man may be bettered by tonics which \nenrich his blood, and he may build up wasted tissues \nout of his own blood. It is not simply this sort of \nstrengthening that our text speaks of. Sometimes \na man is so exhausted in his vital powers that his \nblood cannot be bettered in itself. In some such \ncases, transfusion is resorted to; new and healthful \nblood is drawn from the veins of another and in- \njected into the circulation of the run-down man. \nAnd the sick man is strengthened by the " might " \n\xe2\x80\x94 the energy \xe2\x80\x94 that is in the new blood, by help of \nwhich his own blood may, by and by, be improved \nand enriched. St. Paul speaks of something like \nthis. He does not mean a dynamic presence of the \nHoly Spirit operating on the " old man," but in the \n" new man ; " \xe2\x80\x94 so operating in him that he becomes \n" a partaker of the divine nature." \n\nBut in all the saving processes of the gospel God \nand man cooperate. There is not only a place for \nfaith, but such a necessity for it that without it the \nSpirit cannot do his gracious offices in man\'s soul. \nIt is not an arbitrary thing that faith is made the \ncondition of salvation; it is only by this avenue \nthat the renewing might of the transforming Spirit \nreaches the "inner man." This renewing energy \ncomes not to the inner man by processes of reason- \ning; it comes through faith, or it comes not at all. \nFaith is the avenue of the Spirit\'s approach; if it \nbe closed, he cannot enter. This is not peculiar to \nreligion; it is one manifestation of a universal law. \nA man cannot do his neighbor good by advice, en- \n\n\n\n88 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\ncouragement, sympathy, unless the neighbor has \nfaith in him. The mother\'s touch soothes the fears \nof a startled babe at night only because the babe \nhas faith in that mother. \n\nChrist " dwells" in such a heart as Paul is think- \ning of in this prayer. It is a strong word; it does \nnot describe the casual coming in of a visitor, but \nthe permanent occupation of a building by its own- \ner, who is also its housekeeper. Christ takes entire \npossession of a heart renewed by the Spirit. \n\nHow meager and barren is that notion of faith \nthat says, " Only look and live; " that sings of " one \ndrop of the blood;" that presents the cross as a sort \nof charm \xe2\x80\x94 a nobler sort of fetich. This sort of \npreaching thinks only of the sacrifice, as if the \nChrist who is our Saviour were not also our Law- \ngiver and King as well as our Priest. This present- \ning a fractional Christ is in much of the current \npreaching and singing. It gives us rhapsodies and \nemotional heats, but it is lacking in the fiber of \nChristian manhood. It is deficient in good morals \nand good works. Its tendency is to exhaust relig- \nion in what is called the enjoyment of religion. \n\nDo not mistake me; I believe in the cross, the \ndoctrine of atonement; I preach it and trust in it. \nBut I believe in all that the gospel tells us of the \ndoctrine of the cross. Jesus is more than Priest \xe2\x80\x94 \nhe is Lawgiver and King. Saving faith takes him \nin all his offices. Faith that trusts only in the vic- \ntim slain is deficient. If we really believe in him, \nwe take him as our Teacher and our King. True \nfaith learns of the Teacher and obeys the King. \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\n89 \n\n\n\n"When the "inner man " is " strengthened by the \nmight" of the Holy Spirit* and " Christ dwells in \nthe heart/\' true faith shows itself not merely in \ntrust in his atoning blood, but in the full acceptance \nof all his truth, and in loyal obedience to all his \nlaw. \n\nThe phrase "that Christ may dwell in your hearts \nby faith" is wondrous rich in its meaning. It tells \nus of a life that is not only at peace in the convic- \ntion and persuasion of the infinite merits of the \ndeath of Christ Jesus, but that is also so enlightened \nand made free by his truth that obedience to the \nlaw of God is a privilege. \n\nII. Knowledge of the love of Christ. \n\nThe strengthening of the inner man by the Spir- \nit\'s might, the indwelling of the Christ \xe2\x80\x94 not the vic- \ntim only, but the Prophet and the King \xe2\x80\x94 received \nby faith, all this mighty working results in a proc- \ness of character-building. Such a man is rooted \nand grounded in the love of Christ. The transfused \nblood asserts itself; new r muscle and sinew are made. \n\nLet me remind you again that St. Paul is writing \nto Christians. To be renewed is not necessarily to \nbe saved; it is not necessary to be born only, but \nalso to grow. The new man needs to be confirmed \nin righteousness; he needs that right living in all \nthings should become the established habit of his \nnature : \xe2\x80\x94 that this habit should be fixed in his doing, \nhis thinking, his feeling, and, above all, in his will- \ning. He needs to be so "rooted and grounded" in \nhis knowledge of Christ that it becomes easy and \nnatural for him to will as Christ wills. \n\n\n\n90 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nHow does the new man become thus " rooted and \ngrounded?" In his personal realization of the ex- \nceeding great love of Christ to him. Man\'s love to \nChrist is the fruit of Christ\'s love to him. The \nman who has some experience of Christ\'s dwelling \nin his heart apprehends the love of Christ to him \nas no new convert does or can. I know what is \nthought and said about the raptures of a pardoned \nsinner\'s first love. I know Charles Wesley\'s lines: \n\nI rode on the sky, freely justified I, \nNor did envy Elijah his seat. \n\nBut it is not such love as the matured Christian \nfeels, because only the matured Christian can appre- \nhend aright the exceeding riches of Christ\'s love to \nhim. It is the difference between the brawling \nbrook of the Andes and the wide and deep Ama- \nzon entering the sea. \n\nThe process I conceive to be a very simple one. \nHe who is strengthened in the inner man by the \nmight of the renewing Spirit \xe2\x80\x94 in whose heart Christ \ndwells as sole Lord of his life and love \xe2\x80\x94 more and \nmore apprehends Christ\'s great love to him, and \nmore and more his love to Christ increases in purity \nand intensity. Such a heart comes to feel, " I would \nrather die than betray or grieve him." \n\nSuch a man is " rooted " in love. It is the pict- \nure of a great tree, splendid symbol of a healthful \nand vigorous spiritual life. Let us consider such a \ntree for a moment. What we see is above ground. \nThere is the rugged form, the massive trunk, the \ntowering crest, the wide -spreading branches, the \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in TTs* \n\n\n\n91 \n\n\n\nmyriad leaves waving their gladness in the morn- \ning sun. But is that which we see the tree? Let \nus go down\xe2\x80\x94 digging deep that we may trace the \nsecret of its life, its beauty, its strength, and its \nvaried glories. We find a system of roots corre- \nsponding to the branches, great and small. The \ntap-root goes deep down into the earth; the lateral \nroots spread far and near, throwing off thousands \nof rootlets and spongioles that open their mouths \nto the treasures locked up in the generous bosom \nof the earth. We wonder sometimes that its leaf \ndoes not wither, and that its fruit does not fail. The \nfierce heats of the summer sun seem to fall upon it \nin vain. It is green and fresh when all slightly \nrooted things are withered and dead. But let us \nconsider it more carefully. Last summer, near the \nend of a long drought, we were digging a well in \nthe street not far from this house. The well was \nsunk near a great oak \xe2\x80\x94 one of the original m on- \narch s of the unbroken forest in which your college \nwas planted. Thirty feet down the laborer struck \nhis mattock through a root of this tree. The heavy \nearth had pressed it flat, but it held its way, and \nwas where it was cut a full inch thick the thinnest \nway. The well-digger sent up to us a section of \nthe root he had found. Then the mystery was ex- \nplained: it had gone down to the perennial springs. \nHow many gallons of refreshing water had been \npumped through these little arteries! Holding up \na piece of the root, a full spoonful of water trickled \nout. I drank it; it was sweet and cool. Where \nJesus Christ dwells in the heart, the roots of the \n\n\n\n92 Christ Dwelling in Tig. \n\n\n\nSpirit\'s life go down so deep that they find the \nsweet fountains of living waters that never fail. \n\nSt. Paul was much given to illustrations, some- \ntimes turning a great thought around like a revolv- \ning light-house. To intensify our conception of \nthe strength of holy character that the indwelling \nChrist brings to the inner man, he passes from the \nimage of a tree to that of a house: " Grounded in \nlove." The conception is that of a great building \nupon a firm foundation. Some think that he had \nthe great temple of the Ephesian Diana in his mind. \nIt might well be so; years were spent in laying its \nfoundations. If he thought of any particular build- \ning it is probable that it was of the temple in Jeru- \nsalem. Explorations in our day show us its deep \nand massive foundations; the ancient builders went \ndown till they found the very bed-rock itself. It is \ncertain that the idea of the rock-foundation is here. \nIt may be that Paul borrowed the image from the \nclosing words of our Lord\'s Sermon on the Mount. \n"Well he might, and find the application of both his \nsplendid figures in Christ Jesus and his relations to \nredeemed men. When we realize the love of Christ, \nthe roots of our inner life go deep down into this \nexhaustless soil, rich in all productive power, and \nrefreshed with never-failing streams, pure and swept, \nthough concealed from the eye of sense; and when \nwe realize the truth of Christ, the heart rests upon \nit as upon the eternal rock that does not move or \ntremble beneath the thunders of the sky or the \nbeatings of the sea. \n\nFor Christians so "rooted and grounded," the \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in TJs. \n\n\n\n93 \n\n\n\napostle\'s prayer goes further; he prays that they \n"may be able to comprehend with all saints \nwhat is the breadth, and length, and depth, and \nheight.\'\' \n\nShall we say the breadth, length, depth, and \nheight of the love of Christ? This is not clear; \nbesides, he speaks of this directly in the following \nclause. It is rather, as it seems, left indefinite of \npurpose. Is he not praying here that they " may \nbe able to comprehend the breadth, and length, and \ndepth, and height" of all God\'s great work done for \nus, and revealed in us? \n\nThe spiritual law that underlies the weighty \nwords of this sublime prayer is this: The knowl- \nedge of Christ\'s love, made possible to us, not by \nthe reading of the evangelists merely, not by the \nunderstanding of the plan of salvation merely, but \nby his dwelling in us, results in Christian character \n\xe2\x80\x94 that is, in Christ-likeness, which, in its maturer \ndevelopment, is symbolized by a deeply rooted tree \nand a well-founded house; and this maturing Chris- \ntian character, this increasing Christ-likeness, brings \nto us ever-increasing capacity to comprehend more \nand more of him \xe2\x80\x94 of his truth and his love. This \nlaw holds good in all Christian experience. All \nexperimental knowledge of Christ leads to maturer \nexperience; this deeper experience to more perfect \nknowledge; and this more perfect knowledge to \ndeeper experience. And so on, thank God, forever \naud ever! \n\nShall we try to fix in the forms of logical state- \nment and limitation the meaning of these tremen- \n\n\n\n94 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\ndons words? Do you ask for analysis here? for defi- \nnitions, when we are thinking of these ineffable \nChristian experiences? Not if you are wise. St. \nPaul does not teach the higher life, or the deeper \nexperiences, of faith and love by definition. 2s~or \ndoes Jesus Christ our Lord. It is for ordinary \nthinkers and uninspired writers to try to do this. \n" Vanity of vanities! " \n\nWhat do these terms mean? St. Paul, in using \nthem, means to exhaust language in the hopeless \nattempt to express things in themselves unutterable. \nMany fanciful explanations, \'\'geometrical, architect- \nural, and spiritual,\'\' have been offered. But we \ncatch the true meaning of such words best when we \ndo not attempt to fix their meaning too closely. \nThey do not indicate angles and inclosed spaces \nthat maybe measured; these dimensions take in all \nthe stars and whatever there may be beyond them; \nthey go down to the deepest secrets of being \xe2\x80\x94 of \nlife, of death, of time, and of eternity. St. Paul \nmentions all the dimensions that can be applied to \nthe measurement of a body in order to stimulate \nthe imagination to take hold upon infinite truths. \nHis words tremble under the weight of his inspired \nthoughts. \n\nWe do not make our conceptions clearer by push- \ning definition too far; by attempting to apply anal- \nysis where, in the very nature of things, analysis is \nimpossible. Tell me whether the great dome above \nus is more sublime, or even more clearl} 7 conceived, \nif we try to mark it off in geometrical figures and \nmeasure their lines in yards and inches, as we would \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in TJs. \n\n\n\n95 \n\n\n\na flower-bed, or a plaything? No, no; don\'t count \nthe stars for me; nor map off the heavens as a sur- \nveyor maps off the streets of a village. Let me \nbare my head under the midnight sky and worship \nGod. Let me look at the whole heaven that is in \nview; if we would see more, bring a telescope, but \nno microscope here. When the telescope has done \nall that it can do, let imagination and faith do the \nrest \xe2\x80\x94 we are only at the threshold. \n\nIII. The knowledge-passing love of Christ. \n\nCaught in the swing of his great thought, St. \nPaul cannot stop. The sky grows vaster over him; \nnew and more splendid worlds wheel into his field \nof vision. Young men, he was praying when these \nthoughts came to him. It is profoundly significant. \nPrayer, and nothing else, " climbs the ladder Jacob \nsaw." "When a devout man is upon his knees, plead- \ning the truth and love of Christ, visions are granted \nto him that " eye hath not seen; " words, sweeter \nthan angels use, come to him that " ear hath not \nheard." \n\nNothing is plainer to me; our noblest thoughts \nof God and of redeemed humanity come to us when \nwe pray. I do not mean when we mumble a form \nof words, but when the soul wrestles in its might \nof trusting weakness \xe2\x80\x94 ^it may be in utter silence and \nwithout words; when our faith, simple as a child\'s \nand strong as an archangel\'s, takes hold upon the \neternal promises; when our gratitude makes its \noffering of love and service-^breaking our verj\' lives \nas Mary broke the precious alabaster-box with its \ncostly perfume in uncalculating love of her Lord \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\n\n96 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nit is at such times, and in such moods, and by help \nof such wings, that we are lifted up into the higher \nspheres of thought and life, where philosophy is \nblind and science is dumb. It is when the soul \nagonizes in prayer that faith discovers new worlds \nthat shine afar. It is the wrestling Jacob who \ntriumphs. \n\nPaul was not only praying, he was praying in a \ndungeon, and not in the great congregation, when \nhe wrote these words. Social prayer is good; it is \ngood to pray with and in the assembly of the saints; \nit is good to bow down in the midst of our families \nand offer the morning and evening sacrifice; but the \nbest praying, the truest praying, can be done only \nin the closet, where only God\'s eye sees and only \nGod\'s ear hears. Religion reaches her highest and \ndeepest experiences when she " shuts the door" and \nis alone with God.\' It was not an accident, or a \nform, that explains our Lord\'s praying, by night \nand all night, in mountain solitudes; it was a neces- \nsity to his spirit\'s life. \n\nThere is still, beloved, a holy of holies for us. It \nis not in the dim interior of the temple at Jerusa- \nlem; it is wherever a human soul, burdened with \nits woe of sin and leaning on the love of Christ, is \nalone with God, its Father. For such a soul the \nwings of the cherubim are still spread over the al- \ntar; for such a soul the light of the shekinah still \nshines between them; for such a soul there are still \nvisions and voices in the ni\xc2\xb0;ht. \n\n"What, you ask me, does St. Paul mean by the \nwords, "And to know the love of Christ, which \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\n97 \n\n\n\npasseth knowledge, and to be filled with all the \nfullness of God?" \n\nA man who does not pray can have no conception \nof them. He had gone to the very verge of expres- \nsion in the words that go before them. But when \nhe had uttered them his soul took wing again, and \nhe soars into still loftier regions. Again he strains \nto breaking the powers of that marvelous Greek \ntongue to tell the Ephesians something more of the \nwonders of redeeming love. Words perhaps can \ngo no further; but he has not told all that struggles \nfor utterance in his heart of flame. This much I \nknow : the Greek form of words means, this love of \nChrist is a knowledge-surpassing love. Man did not \nevolve this thought; man cannot master it : it passes \nhis knowledge. But it may and does fill his soul \xe2\x80\x94 \nfill it with the fullness of God \xe2\x80\x94 just as the revealing \nlight and quickening heat of the sun fills the earth \nand sky, and has still enough left for ten thousand \nsuch worlds. 0! if that light and heat were not \ntempered by distance and kindly clouds, it would \nblind and consume us; if God revealed himself in \nall of his ineffable glory, we would die. When he \nshowed to Moses in the mount only a part of his \nglories \xe2\x80\x94 a glimpse only of the mere fringe that \nskirted his garments \xe2\x80\x94 he first hid him in a hole in \nthe rock and covered him with his hand till the \nconsuming splendors had passed by. But the glory \nthat Moses saw \xe2\x80\x94 only the blush of the dawn as \ncompared with the sun shining in his strength \xe2\x80\x94 \nkindled a light on his face, his mortal face, that \nmade all Israel afraid. And now and for us it is \n\n\n\n98 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\ntrue that the personal knowledge of the love of \nChrist \xe2\x80\x94 a knowledge that can come to us only \nthrough spiritual experience and holy living \xe2\x80\x94 enno- \nbles and glorifies our poor marred and sin-stained \nhumanity, till of all the fair and noble things in \nthis world a pure-hearted human being is the fair- \nest of them ail. \n\nYoung men of the graduating olass, I must to- \nday take counsel of my heart and say something to \nyou on this the last Sabbath we shall all ever meet \nagain in this holy place. We have had pleasant \nhours together; you now go your ways, but you \nwill always be dear to us. Often we will recall \nyour faces and names, and often we will try to pray \nfor you. We rejoice that many of you do already \nknow something of the love of Christ. I glorify \nGod that you all may know him. And, my dear \nchildren, I have faith that you will all of you yet, \ncome to know and love him. \n\nYou are going out into a world whose very air is \ntainted with unbelief. You will be offered all sorts \nof theories of the universe, of man, and of God, in \nplace of the grand old gospel which you first learned \nat your mother\'s knee, and which, I give thanks to \nGod, we have always taught you here. In view of \nall these things, I want to tell you to-day: Our mis- \ntakes and misconceptions as to God and his provi- \ndence, and our relation to him, are clue not to our \nscience or to our philosophy, but to the lack of the \nindwelling Spirit of life within us. Nearly all the \ninfidelity in the w r orld has its root in sin. It is sin \nthat confuses your philosophy, blinds your science, \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\n99 \n\n\n\nconfounds jour logic, and perverts your very in- \nstincts and intuitions. \n\nThe German proverb says, "In this world the \neye sees what it brings capacity for seeing." And \nit says truly. A few days ago I was returning from \nSouth Carolina through that most romantic region \nof Georgia, along the base of the Blue Ridge \nMountains. It was near sunset. To our right, \nstretching far beyond the range of vision, were the \nblue mountains, softened by distance and glorified \nin the rays of the setting sun. \n\nA youth, untaught even in the school of nature, \nentered the cars at one of the little stations and sat \ndown near me. There was not an expression of \nthought or feeling in his face. His dull eye gave \nback no answer to the glorious visions around us. \nBut presently the sun dipped behind the mountains, \nand then we saw a picture that memory will hold \ndear forever. Although we could not see the sun \nhimself, his rays, shooting far above, fell on the tall \ntree-tops that crested a range of hills to the east. \nIn a few minutes a new glory appeared. Bushing \nround one of the foot-hills, we passed through a \ngentle mist of rain. And now, among and above \nthe tree-tops, the rainbow sign of the divine mercy \nappeared. Eveu the poor boy saw that, and his \ncheek glowed and paled; his dull eye flashed for an \ninstant as he saw the splendors of light and shad- \now and color that crowned and glorified the hills \nand the trees. For a moment that revelation lifted \neven him above himself. Suppose now he had said, \nas he looked on the glowing tree-tops and the glo- \n\n\n\n100 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nrious rainbow, "It is there \xe2\x80\x94 right there in the trees \n\xe2\x80\x94 all there is of it." He would have erred as they \ndo who explore all fields of science \xe2\x80\x94 who count the \nstars and weigh them \xe2\x80\x94 who, beholding all the mag- \nnificence of the universe, say, "That is all there is \nof it \xe2\x80\x94 there is nothing more \xe2\x80\x94 no power above and \nbeyond, and in it all no God." How strange that \nit was among the Alps that Shelley called him- \nself an atheist! The glory of the tree-tops and of \nthe rainbow was not in the trees or the wondrous \narch that spanned them. On the other side of us \nwas the setting sun. The whole western sky was \nresplendent in purple and gold. It was the sunlight \nthat painted these splendors and kindled these fires. \nAnd wherever you see beauty and glory, whether \nin a flower by the way-side, or in a snow-crystal \nfalling softly at your feet from wintry skies, or in \nthe magnificence of the heavens, or in the human \nface, or in the human soul, be sure God is behind it, \nabove it, beyond it, in it. \n\nFor a few moments that evening my attention \nwas arrested in looking at the red embankment of \nthe road-bed. It was flowerless and lifeless. I \nmight have kept my gaze there, but I would have \nmissed the sunset glories of the earth and the sky. \nThere is a true as well as a false pantheism; if Jesus \nChrist dwell in your hearts, you will see God every- \nwhere and in all things. \n\nI ought not to close this sermon without remind- \ning you again that St. Paul was in a dungeon when \nhe wrote this prayer and had these visions of Chris- \ntian experience. And a thousand times has it been \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling m Us \n\n\n\n101 \n\n\n\nso that dungeons have furnished Pisgah-views of \nthe promised inheritance. It was through the bars \nof Bedford jail that John. Bunyan saw the Delect- \nable Mountains, and the gate of pearl when it was \nopened for Christian and Faithful, and had his \nglimpse of the white-robed company in the celestial \ncity. \n\nIf you do your full duty to God, some of you may \nyet find yourselves prisoners of the Lord. Most \ncertainly you will be brought through the valley of \nsorrow; he w T ho follows Christ must pass through \nGethsemane. Fear not \xe2\x80\x94 the great law is. "Made \nperfect through suffering." These words were spok- \nen of our Lord and Saviour, but they come home \nto us also. As one has said, "The duty-ideal, like \nthe Christ-ideal, has the mark of wounds." \n\nI remind you that it was the apostle to the Gen- \ntiles who wrote this Epistle, and offered the prayer \nwhich has been the subject of our meditations this \nmorning. St. Paul gloried in his call to be a mis- \nsionary to the despised heathen, and it was the con- \nception of a divine love that embraced them every \none that filled his soul with wonder and praise. The \nJews were slow of heart to believe that God could \nlove the heathen as he did the children of Abra- \nham. So many of us, whose ancestors were hea- \nthen till the missionaries brought them the gospel, \nhave fallen into a fatal and sinful habit of thinking \nof the heathen of our own times as the Jews thought \nof the heathen of their day \xe2\x80\x94 as mere barbarians, in \nwhom we have little concern, and who are of small \nconsequence to God or to men. But the Lord \n\n\n\n102 \n\n\n\nChrist Dwelling in Us. \n\n\n\nChrist, who sent Paul far away to the Gentiles, \ncomes to us at this Commencement, and lays his \nhand on some who are very near to us and says to \nthem, "Get ye far hence to the Gentiles." Three \nof your class are going to China to help our dear \nBrother Allen and the rest of our brethren there to \npreach the gospel and found a Church that shall \nbless the ages to come. \n\nYou, dear boys \xe2\x80\x94 " henceforth I call you brethren " \n\xe2\x80\x94 who go to China, will need the divine supports \nthat St. Paul found in his great missionary toils. \nThey will not fail you. For you also is the prom- \nise: "Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end \nof the world." \n\nMany a time from around these altars will our \nvoices mingle before the mercy-seat with yours \nfrom China. And some day our songs will mingle \naround the throne in heaven. \n\nRead, again and again, this prayer of St. Paul;" \ntry to realize what it teaches, and tells, and inti- \nmates. Let us join, every one of us, in the apos- \ntle\'s sublime doxology: "iTow unto him that is \nable to do exceeding abundantly above all that we \nask or think, according to the power that worketh \nin us, unto him be glory in the Church by Christ \nJesus throughout all ages, world without end. \nAmen." \n\n\n\nNEW SOUTH; \n\nGRATITUDE, AMENDMENT, HOPE. \n[A THANKS GIVING- SERMON,-] \n\n\n\n"O praise the Lord, all ye nations: praise him, all ye people. \nFor his merciful kindness is great toward us; and the truth of the \nLord endureth forever. Praise ye the Lord." Psalm cxvii. \n\n"A"TEARLY all nations, in both ancient and mod- \nern times, have incorporated into their relig- \nious and social customs annual thanksgivings for \nthe blessings that crown each year. Your classic \nliterature, young gentlemen of the College, will tell \nyou of many festivals, celebrated by the Greeks and \nRomans, that publicly recognized the gifts of the \ngods in the vintage and harvests of their fields. \nThese festivals were a part of their social and relig- \nious life. I cannot conceive of any thing more be- \ncoming than that a Christian nation should celebrate \na day of universal thanksgiving to the God and \nFather of our Lord Jesus Christ; the Father, also, \n} of all men, and the Giver of all good. To me it is \nmost inspiring to think that at this hour there are \nmillions of our brethren and fellow-citizens in this \n\n\n\n* Preached before the students of Emory College and the citizens \nof Oxford, Ga., November 25, 1880. Its publication was requested \nby a unanimous vote of the congregation, on a motion by the Rev. \nDr. Morgan Callaway, Vice-president of the College. \n\nH03) \n\n\n\n104 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nHeaven-favored land engaged, like ourselves, in songs \nof praise and in the worship of our ever-merciful \nGod. From unnumbered hearts and voices goes up \nthe song: "0 praise the Lord, all ye nations: praise \nhim, all ye people. For his merciful kindness is \ngreat toward us; and the truth of the Lord endur- \neth forever. Praise ye the Lord." \n\nBefore considering some of our peculiar obliga- \ntions to be grateful to God, let us first ask two \nquestions: \n\nWhy should we observe this particular day, Thurs- \nday, November 25, 1880, as a day of thanksgiving? \nAnd zohy should we assemble in our accustomed place \nof iv or ship for this purpose? \n\nI answer, Because our rulers have commanded it. \nWe are here in obedience to proclamations from the \nchief executives of both our Nation and State \xe2\x80\x94 \nfrom his Excellency Rutherford B. Hayes, Presi- \ndent of the United States, and from his Excellency \nAlfred H. Colquitt, Governor of Georgia. These \nproclamations make it not merely our privilege, but \nour duty also, to meet together on this particular \nday to unite in public, thanksgiving to Almighty \nGod for his manifold and great mercies. And the \nScriptures \xe2\x80\x94 our only rule of faith and practice \xe2\x80\x94 \nsustain this proposition. In all things lawful, as \ntested by the greater law of God, it is a Christian \nman\'s duty to obey those in authority. \n\nI have thought it well to examine with some care \nthe scriptural basis of this doctrine. Why should \nwe obey law? Why ought we to promote the effi- \nciency and usefulness of the government under \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment, Hope. \n\n\n\n105 \n\n\n\nwhich we live \xe2\x80\x94 whether municipal, state, or na- \ntional? whether domestic, civil, or ecclesiastical? \nThe subject is broad, and there are many passages \nwhich bear upon it; but two or three will answer \nour present purpose. St. Paul, in his Epistle to the \nRomans, gives us a remarkable and unmistakable \npassage upon this subject. I read Romans xiii. 1-7 : \n"Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. \nFor there is no power but of God: the powers that \nbe are ordained of God. Whosoever therefore re- \nsisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God; \nand they that resist shall receive to themselves dam- \nnation. For rulers are not a terror to good works, \nbut to the evil. Wilt thou then not be afraid of \nthe power? do that which is good, and thou shalt \nhave praise of the same: for he is the minister of \nGod to thee for good. But if thou do that which is \nevil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain : \nfor he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute \nwrath upon him that cloeth evil. Wherefore ye \nmust needs be subject, not only for wrath, but also \nfor conscience\' sake. For, for this cause pay ye \ntribute also: for they are God\'s ministers, attending \ncontinually upon this very thing. Render therefore \nto all their dues: tribute to whom tribute is due; \ncustom to w^hom custom; fear to whom fear; honor \nto whom honor." St. Peter gives us a statement \nno less distinct and emphatic. I read 1 Peter ii. \n13-18: "Submit yourselves to every ordinance of \nman for the Lord\'s sake: whether it be to the king, \nas supreme; or unto governors, as unto them that \nare sent by him for the punishment of evil-doers, \n\n\n\n106 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nand for the praise of them that do well. For so is \nthe will of God, that with well-doing ye may put to \nsilence the ignorance of foolish men: as free, and \nnot using your liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, \nbut as the servants of God. Honor all men. Love \nthe brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the king. \nServants, be subject to your masters with all fear; \nnot only to the good and gentle, but also to the \nfroward." \n\nOn this whole subject there can be, I think, no \ndoubt as to the general doctrine of the Bible. It \nmay be briefly stated thus: 1. God is the source of \nall law and authority, as he is the fountain of all \nexistence. 2. He ordains government; that is, the \nthing, not the form. The texts just read are as \napplicable to one form as to another. 3. Obedience \nto 4, the powers that be \'\'* is a duty, not only as to \nour rulers, but as to God. who is the Governor of \nall. 4. Let us observe further; for it is a matter of \nvital importance, it is not to the king, or president, \nor governor we owe obedience, but to the ruler; not \nsimply to the highest, "the king as supreme,\'" but \nto all rulers; to "governors" also, of every grade, \nas representing the highest \xe2\x80\x94 rather as represent- \ning, under him, the law and government that are \nback of him and above him; that is, to push the \nthought farther, but not too far, not merely the \nlaw and constitution of the state, but the divine law \nand constitution of the universe. "Wherefore St. \nPaul says, " Render to all their dues: tribute to \nwhom tribute is due; custom to whom custom ; fear \nto whom fear; honor to whom honor." St. Peter \n\n\n\nGratitude, AlMexdment^ Hope. 107 \n\n\n\nteaches the same doctrine. So does Moses. So \ndoes our Lord himself. \n\nThe foundation truth of the whole doctrine is \nthis : Whoever administers legitimate authority rep- \nresents, in so far forth as his office and functions go. \nGod. Men speak sometimes of God\'s vicar-general. \nHe has none \xe2\x80\x94 neither in king, nor pope, nor democ- \nracies. God\'s vicar is government \xe2\x80\x94 all government. \nJust as the simplest, as well as the most complex, \nprocesses of nature show forth the power and prov- \nidence of God, so the humblest office-bearer, enforc- \ning the least of all laws that are in harmonv with \neternal righteousness, represents the majesty and \nauthority of the divine government. The principle \nand the obligation are the same, whether it be the \npresident, the governor, the local magistrate, the \ntown marshal, the college professor, the village \nschool-mistress, the employer. In a word, whoever \nbears rightful rule does, in his sphere, whether it be \ngreat or small, represent God. And " whoso resist- \neth the power,\'\' in things lawfully commanded. " re- \nsisteth God/\' Be it remembered, furthermore, the \nobligation does not depend upon the personal char- \nacter of the rulers, but upon the fact of their au- \nthority. Xero was Emperor of Rome, yet Paul \ncommands obedience. \n\nThe right of amending bad laws, of seeking, by \nright methods, to change unsatisfactory administra- \ntions, or even the right of revolution, if it come to \nthat, all guaranteed to our race by both the Script- \nures and sound reason, it is not needful to discuss \nat this time. But it may be remarked that even \n\n\n\n108 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nrevolution should have this basis \xe2\x80\x94 that it seeks \nobedience to that which is the real law, and which \nought to be the rule of existing governments. Dis- \nobedience becomes a duty when literal obedience \nwould be real disobedience. "Children, obey your \nparents in the Lord," expresses the principle. There \nis no authority more sacred than the parental, but \nit must be "in the Lord;" otherwise, authority is \nso perverted that obedience becomes disobedience. \n\nThe duty of thanksgiving to God needs no argu- \nment. It is summed up in the language of St. \nJames: "Every good and every perfect gift is from \nabove, and cometh down from the Father of lights, \nwith whom is no variableness, neither shadow of \nturning." Our entire dependence is stated by St. Paul \nin his discourse to the Athenians: "In him we live, \nand move, and have our being." A very large part \nof the Scriptures is made up of different statements \nof this truth. In every age inspiration has been at \ninfinite pains to teach men the truth and reality of \ntheir entire dependence upon God for all things. \nThousands of texts might be brought forward in \nconfirmation of this statement, and in illustration \nof this truth. Have we life, health, peace, food, \nraiment, homes, friends, civilization, grace, religion \n\xe2\x80\x94 any blessing of any kind for our bodies or our \nsouls, for this world or the next? Then it is God\'s \nfree and gracious gift. It is the expression of his \nfatherly love for us, his children. If our industry \nhas been blessed, it is God\'s blessing; if our friends \nhave done us good, they are God\'s providential min- \nisters to us. The Old Testament writers recognize \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment, Hope. 109 \n\n\n\nthe divine "band in every blessing; the Psalms of \nDavid, and of every other good man of every na- \ntion, are full of it. Our Lord Jesus teaches it in \ndiscourse and parable \xe2\x80\x94 above all, in his mighty \nworks and mightier life. He calls upon the lilies \nof the valley, and the sparrows of the house-tops \nand the fields, to make plain and sure to us the doc- \ntrine of the infinitely gracious, all-wise, and all-em- \nbracing providence of God. \n\nLet as consider briefly our special obligations to be \ngrateful to God. \n\nI waive, at this time, any discussion of those obli- \ngations that are common to all men \xe2\x80\x94 as the gift of \nlife; the constant providences that bring us bless- \nings every day and hour; above all, the gift of Jesus \nChrist and his gospel, bringing life and immortality \nto light. This morning let me mention some con- \nsiderations that should influence us, as citizens of \nthese United States, at this time, to thanksgiving, \nand especially as residents of that section of the \ncountry that is known as "the South." \n\n1. We should thank God that ours is a Christian \nnation. Granting all that may be said of the wick- \nedness that is in the land, it is still true that in its \ninstitutions and overruling spirit this is a Christian \nnation. \n\n2. That our country is at peace, and that it is not \nthreatened with war. \n\n3. That we have passed through the quadrennial \nconvulsion incident to the election of President so \nquietly and safely. And we should be thankful \nthat the election is so pronounced that the country \n\n\n\n110 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nis saved from the strain of a six mouths\' debate and \nconflict, such as we had four years ago, to settle the \nquestion of the Presidency. Although nearly half \nthe people have been disappointed in the results of \nthe election, still no sane man can doubt whether \nGeneral Garfield has been elected President of the \nUnited States. \n\n4. That we have had so clean and able an admin- \nistration during the last four years. \n\n5. That the general business interests of the whole \ncountry are so prosperous. \n\nI come now to mention some reasons why ive of " the \nSouth" should both "thank God and take courage" \n\nI may possibly (but I trust not) speak of some \nthings that you may not relish, and advance some \nviews that you may not approve. If so, I only ask \na fair and reasonable reflection upon them. If you \nshould condemn them, I have left me at least the \nsatisfaction of being quite sure that I am right, and \nthat, if you live long enough, you will agree with \nme. And first, we of the South have great reason \nto be thankful to God that we are in all respects so \nwell off ; and that, too, so soon after so great a war, so \ncomplete an upturning of our institutions, so entire \nan overthrow of our industries, so absolute a defeat \nof our most cherished plans. Recall briefly the last \ntwenty years. Think of what we were in 1860 and \nin 1865. Then look about you and see what we are \nin 1880. What was thought by our people after \nAppomattox and April, 1865, as to the prospect \nbefore us? Some of you can recall the forebodings \nof that time as to the return of business prosperity, \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment, Hope. Ill \n\n\n\nthe restoration and preservation of civil and social \norder among ourselves, and the restoration of our \nrelations to the Union. \n\nYou know how many of our best and bravest left \nour section forever in sheer despair. Behold now \nwhat wonders have been wrought in fifteen years! \n\nFirstly, considering where and what we were fif- \nteen years ago, considering the financial convulsions \nand panics that have swept over our country during \nthat time \xe2\x80\x94 I might say, that have disturbed the civ- \nilized world \xe2\x80\x94 our industrial and financial condition \nto-day is marvelously good. It is not true, as cer- \ntain croakers and "Bourbons/ 5 floated from their \nmoorings by the rising tides of new and better ideas, \nare so fond of saying, that the South is getting \npoorer every day. These croakings are not only \nunseemly ; they are false in their statements, as they \nare ungrateful in their sentiment, A right study \nof our tax-returns will show that there is life and \nprogress in the South. But statistical tables are \nnot the only witnesses in such a case. Let people \nuse their own eyes. Here is this one fact \xe2\x80\x94 the cot- \nton crop, as an exponent of the power of our indus- \ntrial system. In 1879 we made nearly five million \nbales; in 1880 it is believed that we will make nearly \nsix million bales. We never made so much under \nthe old system. It is nonsense to talk of a country \nas ruined that can do such things. There are more \npeople at work in the South to-day than were ever \nat work before; and they are raising uot only more \ncotton, but more of every thing else. And no won- \nder, for the farming of to-day is better than the \n\n\n\n112 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nfarming of the old days; and in two grand particu- \nlars: first, better culture; second, the ever-increas- \ning tendency to break up the great plantations into \nsmall farms. Our present system is more than re- \nstoring what the old system destroyed. \n\nThe great body of our people not only make more \nthan they did before the war, but they make a bet- \nter use of it \xe2\x80\x94 they get unspeakably more comfort \nout of it. I am willing to make the comparison on \nany line of things that you may suggest, for I know \nboth periods. Remember that I am speaking of the \ngreat mass of the people, and not of the few great \nslave-holders, some of whom lived like princes; not \nforgetting, meantime, that the majority of our people \nnever owned slaves at all. \n\nFor one illustration, take, if you please, the home- \nlife of our people. There is ten times the comfort \nthere was twenty years ago. Travel through your \nown county \xe2\x80\x94 and it is rather below than above the \naverage \xe2\x80\x94 by any public or private road. Compare \nthe old and the new houses. The houses built re- \ncently are better every way than those built before \nthe w T ar. I do not speak of an occasional mansion, \nthat in the old times lifted itself proudly among a \nscore of cabins, but of the thousands of decent \nfarm-houses, comely cottages, that have been built \nin the last ten years. I know scores whose new \nbarns are better than their old residences. Our peo- \nple have better furniture. Good mattresses have \nlargely driven out the old-time feathers. Cook- \nstoves, sewing-machines, with all such comforts and \nconveniences, may be seen in a dozen homes to-day \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment, Hope. 113 \n\n\n\nwhere you could hardly have found them in one in \n1860. Lamps that make reading agreeable have \ndriven out tallow-dips, by whose glimmering no \neyes could long read and continue to see. Better \ntaste asserts itself: the new houses are painted; they \nhave not only glass, but blinds. There is more \ncomfort inside. There are luxuries where once \nthere were not conveniences. Carpets are getting \nto be common among the middle classes. There \nare parlor organs, pianos, and pictures, where we \nnever saw them before. And so on, to the end of a \nlong chapter. \n\nTest the question of our better condition by the \nreceipts of benevolent institutions, the support of \nthe ministry, the building, improvement, and fur- \nnishing of churches, and we have the same answer \n\xe2\x80\x94 our people are better off now than in 1860. \n\nIn reply to all this some one will say, " But it \ncosts more to live than in 1860/\' I answer, True \nenough; but there is more to live for. \n\nSecondly, the social and civil order existing in the \nSouthern States is itself wonderful, and an occasion \nof profound gratitude. For any wrongs that have \nbeen done in our section, for any acts of violence on \nany pretext, for any disobedience to law, I have not \none word of defense. Admitting, for argument\'s \nsake, all that the bitterest of our censors have ever \nsaid upon these subjects, I still say, considering what \nwere the conditions of life in the Southern States \nafter April, 1865, the civil and social order that \nexists in the South is wonderful. Our critics and \ncensors forget, we must believe, the history of othe* \n\n8 \n\n\n\n114 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\ncountries. They have never comprehended the \nproblem we had given us to work out after the sur-\' \nrender. Only those who lived through that period \ncan ever understand it. Why has not this whole \nSouthern country repeated the scenes of Hayti and \nSan Domingo? Not the repressive power of a strong \ngovernment only; not the fear of the stronger race \nonly; not that suggestions have been lacking from \nfierce and narrow fanatics; but chiefly in this, the \nconservative power of the Protestant religion, which \nhad taken such deep root in the hearts and lives of \nour people. The controlling sentiment of the South- \nern people, in city and hamlet, in camp and field, \namong the white and the black, has been religious. \n\nThirdly, the restoration of our relations to the \nGeneral Government should excite our gratitude. \nPossibly some do not go with me here. Then I \nmust go without them, but I shall not lack for com- \npany; and as the years pass, it will be an ever-in- \ncreasing throng. We must distinguish between a \nparty we have for the most part antagonized and \nthe government it has so long a time controlled. \nWhatever may be the faults of the party in power, \nor of the party out of power, this is, nevertheless, \nso far as I know, altogether the most satisfactory \nand desirable government in the world; and I am \nthankful to God, the disposer of the affairs of na- \ntions and of men, that our States are again in rela- \ntions with, the General Government. \n\nShould we be surprised or discouraged because \nour section does not control the government? His \n+ ory, if not reason, should teach us better. Is there \n\n\n\nGRATITUDE, AMENDMENT, HOPE. 115 \n\n\n\na parallel to our history since 1860 \xe2\x80\x94 war, bitter, \ncontinued, and destructive, defeat utter and over- \nwhelming, and all followed so soon by so great \npolitical influence and consideration as we now en- \njoy? When did a defeated and conquered minority \never before, in the short space of fifteen years, regain \nsuch power and influence in any age or nation ? \nAnd this is the more wonderful when we consider \nthe immeasurable capacity for blundering which \nthe leaders of the dominant party in our section \nhave manifested during these years of political con- \nflict. And it is the more wonderful still when we \nconsider how ready the dominant party of the other \nsection has been to receive, as the expression of the \nfixed though secret sentiment of the mass of the \nSouthern people, the wild utterances of a few ex- \ntreme impracticables, who have never forgotten and \nhave never learned. I tell you to-day, the sober- \nminded people who had read history did not, in \n1865, expect that our relations with the General \nGovernment would be, by 1880, as good as they are. \nBut they would have been better than they are if \nthe real sentiment of the masses on both sides could \nhave gotten itself fairly expressed; for these masses \nwish to be friends, and before very long they will \nsweep from their way those who seek to hinder \nthem. My congregation, looked at on all sides and \nmeasured by any tests, it is one of the wonders of \nhistory that our people have, in so short a time (fif- \nteen years is a very short time in the life-time of a \nnation), so far overcome the evil effects of one of \nthe most bloody, and desolating, and exasperating \n\n\n\n116 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nwars ever waged in this world! And the facts \nspeak worlds for our Constitution, for our form of \ngovernment, and, above all, for our Protestant re- \nligion \xe2\x80\x94 a religion which will yet show itself to be \nthe best healer of national wounds, and the best \nreconciler of estranged brethren. \n\nFourthly, there is one great historic fact which \nshould, in my sober judgment, above all things, ex- \ncite everywhere in the South profound gratitude \nto Almighty God: I m.ean the abolition of African \nslavery. \n\nIf I speak only for myself (and I am persuaded \nthat I do not), then be it so. But I, for one, thank \nGod that there is no longer slavery in these United \nStates! I am persuaded that I only say what the \nvast majority of our people feel and believe. I do \nnot forget the better characteristics of African \nslavery as it existed among us for so long a time \nunder the sanction of national law and under the \nprotection of the Constitution of the United States; \nI do not forget that its worst features were often \ncruelly exaggerated, and that its best were unfairly \nminified ; more than all, I do not forget that, in the \nprovidence of God, a work that is without a paral- \nlel in history was done on the Southern plantations \n\xe2\x80\x94 a work that was begun by such men as Bishop \nCapers, of South Carolina, Lovick Pierce and Bish- \nop Andrew, of Georgia, and by men like-minded \nwith them \xe2\x80\x94 a work whose expenses were met by \nthe slave-holders themselves \xe2\x80\x94 a work that resulted \nm the Christianizing of a full half million of the \nAfrican people, who became communicants of our \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment* Hope. \n\n\n\n117 \n\n\n\nChurches, and in the bettering of nearly the whole \nfour or five million who were brought largely un- \nder the redeeming influence of our holy religion. \n\nI have nothing to say at this time of the particu- \nlar "war measure" that brought about their imme- \ndiate and unconditioned enfranchisement, only that \nit is history, and that it is done for once and for all. \nI am not called on, in order to justify my position, to \napprove the political unwisdom of suddenly placing \nthe ballot in the hands of nearly a million of un- \nqualified men \xe2\x80\x94 only that, since it is done, this also \nis history that we of the South should accept, and \nthat our fellow-citizens of the North should never \ndisturb. But all these things, bad as they may have \nbeen, and unfortunate as they may yet be, are only \nincidental to the one great historic fact, that slavery \nexists no more. For this fact I devoutly thank God \nthis day! And on many accounts: \n\n1. For the negroes themselves. While they have \nsuffered and will suffer many things in their strug- \ngle for existence, I do nevertheless believe that in \nthe long run it is best for them. How soon they \nshall realize the possibilities of their new relations \ndepends largely, perhaps most, on themselves. Much \ndepends on those who, under God, set them free. \nBy every token this whole nation should undertake \nthe problem of their education. That problem will \nhave to be worked out on the basis of cooperation; \nthat is, they must be helped to help themselves. To \nmake their education an absolute gratuity will per- \npetuate many of the misconceptions and weaknesses \nof character which now embarrass and hinder their \n\n\n\n118 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nprogress. Much also depends upon the Southern \nwhite people \xe2\x80\x94 their sympathy, their justice, their \nwise and helpful cooperation. This we should give \nthem, not reluctantly, but gladly, for their good and \nfor the safety of all, for their elevation, and for the \nglory of God. How we may do this may be matter \nfor discussion hereafter. \n\n2. I am grateful that slavery no longer exists, \nbecause it is better for the white people of the South. \nIt is better for our industries and our business, as \nproved by the crops that free labor makes. But by \neminence it is better for our social and ethical devel- \nopment. "VVe will now begin to take our right place \namong both the conservative and aggressive forces \nof the civilized and Christian world. \n\n3. I am grateful because it is unspeakably better \nfor our children and children\'s children. It is bet- \nter for them in a thousand ways. I have not time \nfor discussion in detail now. But this, if nothing \nelse, proves the truth of my position: there are \nmore white children at work in the South to-day \nthan ever before. And this goes far to account for \nthe six million bales of cotton. Our children are \ngrowing up to believe that idleness is vagabondage. \nOne other thing I wish to say before leaving this \npoint. We hear much about the disadvantages to \nour children of leaving them among several million \nof freedmen. I recognize them, and feel them; but \nI would rather leave my children among several \nmillion of free negroes than among several million \nof negroes in slavery. \n\nBut leaving out of view at this time all discussion \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment, Hope. \n\n\n\n119 \n\n\n\nof the various benefits that may come through the \nenfranchisement of the negroes, I am thankful on \nthe broad and unqualified ground that there is now \nno slavery in all our land. \n\nDoes any one say to me this day: " You have got \nnew light; you have changed the opinions you en- \ntertained twenty years ago." I answer humbly, \nbut gratefully, and without qualification: I have \ngot new light. I do now believe many things that \nI did not believe twenty years ago. Moreover, if it \nplease God to spare me in this world twenty years \nlonger, I hope to have, on many difficult problems, \nmore new light. I expect, if I see the dawn of the \nyear 1900, to believe some things that I now reject, \nand to reject some things that I now believe. And \nI will not be alone. \n\nIn conclusion, I ask you to indulge me in a few \nreflections that are, I believe, appropriate to this \noccasion. \n\nAnd first of all, as a people, let us of the South \nfrankly recognize some of our faults and lacks, and try \nto reform and improve. I know this is a hard task. \nAnd it is all the harder because we are the subjects \nof so much denunciation and misrepresentation by \nour critics of the Northern States, and of other \ncountries. Much of this comes through sincere \nignorance; much of it through the necessities of \nparty politics; some of it, I fear, through sinful \nhatred; and much of it through habit. Many have \nso long thrown stones at us that it has become a \nhabit to do so. The rather Pharisaic attitude that \nmany public men at the North have assumed toward \n\n\n\n120 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nus has greatly embarrassed and arrested our efforts \nto discover our faults and to amend them. But all \nthis only furnishes a reason for beginning the soon- \ner and trying the harder. What is really good \xe2\x80\x94 \nand there is much that is good \xe2\x80\x94 let us stand by, and \nmake it better if we can. \n\nThere are some unpleasant things that ought to \nbe said. They are on my conscience. "Will you \nbear with me while I point out some of the weaker \npoints in our social make-up \xe2\x80\x94 some of the more \nserious lacks in our development? \n\nFirst, then, let us endeavor to overcome our in- \ntense provincialism. We are too well satisfied with \nourselves. We think better of ourselves than the \nfacts of our history and our present state of prog- \nress justify. Some of us are nearly of the opinion \nthat the words "the South" are a synonym for uni- \nverse. As a people we have not enough felt the \nheart-beat of the world outside of us. We have \nbeen largely shut off* from that world. Slavery did \nthis, and this suggests another reason for gratitude \nthat it exists no more. On this point I will add \nonly one word more. Had we been less provincial, \nless shut in by and with our own ideas, had we \nknown the world better, we would have known \nourselves better, and there would have been no war \nin 1861. \n\nSecondly, there is avast mass of illiteracy among \nus. There is white as well as black illiteracy. \nThere are multiplied thousands who can neither \nread nor write. They must be taught. \n\nThirdly, let us recognize our want of a literature. \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment, Hope. 121 \n\n\n\nWe have not done much in this line of things. It \nis too obvious to dispute about, it is too painful to \ndwell upon. \n\nFourthly, let us wake up to our want of educa- \ntional facilities. Our public-school system is pain- \nfully inadequate. Our colleges and universities are \nunendowed, and they struggle against fearful odds \nin their effort to do their work. We are one hun- \ndred years behind the Eastern and Middle States. \nWe are also behind many of the new States of the \nWest. \n\nFifthly, consider how behindhand we are with \nour manufacturing interests. And remember that \nnature never did more to furnish a people with the \nconditions necessary to successful manufactures. \nDoes any one say, We lack capital? I answer, No, \nmy friend, it was always so. It was so when we \nhad capital. I have thought of these things a great \ndeal. I have been placed where I was obliged to \nthink of them, and I have reached this conclusion \nwith perfect confidence of its correctness: Our pro- \nvincialism, our want of literature, our lack of edu- \ncational facilities, and of manufactures, like our \nlack of population, are all explained by one fact and \none word \xe2\x80\x94 slavery. But for slavery, Georgia would \nbe as densely peopled as Rhode Island. Wherefore, \namong many other reasons, I say again, I thank \nGod that it is no more among us! \n\nI mention, lastly, some traits of character we should \nmltivate. \n\nFirst, the humble but all-prevailing virtues of in- \ndustry and economy in business. There should be \n\n\n\n122 \n\n\n\nThe New South: \n\n\n\nno non-producing classes among us\xe2\x80\x94 no wasting \nclasses. The Northern people have more money \nthan the Southern people, chiefly for the reason that \nthey work more and save more* \n\nSecondly, let us cultivate the sentiments and hab- \nits of political and social toleration. This is sorely \nneeded among us. We need to feel that a man may \nvote against us and be our friend; we need to feel \nthat we can be his friend although we vote against \nhim. \n\nThirdly, let us cultivate respect for all law and \nauthority as God\'s appointment* This is not a \ncharacteristic quality of our people. The educating \ninfluences of many generations have been unfavor- \nable to the development of this sentiment as a men- \ntal habit, or, rather, as a mental characteristic. We \nmust plant ourselves and bring up our children on \nthe platform of St. Paul and St. Peter, as read and \nconsidered in the beginning of this discourse. Law, \nauthority, we must reverence and obey as the ordi- \nnance of God. \n\nFourthly, let us cease from politics as a trust and a \ntrade. Our duty of citizenship we must perform, \nbut we should look no longer to political struggles \nas the means of deliverauce from all our difficulties. \nIf we succeed we would be disappointed. Political \nsuccess may enrich a few place-hunters, who ride \ninto office upon the tide of popular enthusiasm; \nbut it will bring little reward to the masses of the \npeople. \n\nThere is no help for it; if we prosper, we must \nwork for it. Our deliverance will come through \n\n\n\nGratitude, Amendment, Hope. \n\n\n\n123 \n\n\n\nmillions of hard licks, and millions of acts of self- \ndenial, through industry, economy, civil order, and \nthe blessing of God upon obedience. \n\nFinally, let us look forward. Hitherto I have \nspoken before some of you of the South of the fut- \nure. Again I say, Look forward! I do the heroic \ndead no injustice. But the only rational way in \nwhich we can emulate their virtues is to live for the \ncountry they died for. We are not called on to die \nfor it, but to live for it; believe me, good friends, a \nmuch harder thing to do. \n\nWe should not forget what General Lee said to \nour General Gordon when it was all over: "We \nmust go home and cultivate our virtues." Lee did \nthat. He forthwith set himself to doing good. It \nis a good example. We are to do the work of to- \nday, looking forward and not backward. We have \nno divine call to stand eternal guard by the grave \nof dead issues. Here certainly we may say, "Let \nthe dead bury their dead." \n\nMy friends, my neighbors, and my pupils, I de- \nclare to you to-day my hope is, that in twenty years \nfrom now, the words "the South" shall have only \na geographical significance. \n\nIf any ask, " Why do you say such things here \nto-day?" I answer, Because I remember who are \nhere, and I consider what they are to do and to be \nwhen we are gone hence. \n\nI have spoken what I solemnly believe to be the \ntruth. Moreover, the time has fully come when \nthese truths should be spoken by somebody; and I \ntry to do my part, persuaded that before many years \n\n\n\n124 \n\n\n\nThe Hew South. \n\n\n\nthere will happily be no longer any occasion or need \nfor them to be spoken. \n\nThere is no reason why the South should be de- \nspondent. Let us cultivate industry and economy, \nobserve law and order, practice virtue and justice, \nwalk in truth and righteousness, and press on with \nstrong hearts and good hopes. The true golden \nday for the South is yet to dawn. But the light is \nbreaking, and presently the shadows will flee away. \nIts fullness of splendor I may never see; but my \nchildren will see it, and I wish them to get ready \nfor it while they may. \n\nThere is nothing weaker or more foolish than \nrepining over an irrevocable past, except it be de- \nspairing of a future to which God invites us. Good \nfriends, this is not 1860; it is 1880. Let us press \nforward, following the pillar of cloud and of fire \nalways. With health and peace, with friends and \nhomes, with civil liberty and social order, with na- \ntional prosperity and domestic comfort, with boun- \ntiful harvests \xe2\x80\x94 with all these blessings, and good \nhope of heaven through Jesus Christ our Lord, let \nns all lift up our voices in the glad psalm of praise \nand thanksgiving: " praise the Lord, all ye na- \ntions: praise him, all ye people. For his merciful \nkindness is great toward us; and the truth of the \nLord endureth forever. Praise ye the Lord." \n\n\n\n"OCCUPY TILL I COME." \n\n[COMMENCEMENT SUNDAY, EMORY COLLEGE, JUNE 26, 1881.j \n\n\n\n"And he called his ten servants, and delivered them ten pounds, \nand said unto them, Occupy till I come." Luke xix. 13. \n\nJERICHO was the chief city of the valley of the \nJordan. On his last visit to Jerusalem our \nLord passed through Jericho, where he probably \nspent the night. The whole land was ringing with \nthe fame of his mighty works and mightier words. \nAt this time he opened the eyes of blind Bartimeus, \nand raised the popular interest to the highest pitch. \nAs he passed out of the city a great multitude of \npeople thronged his steps. \n\nAmong those whom curiosity had excited was a \nJew, Zaccheus by name, one of the chief of the Ro- \nman tax-gatherers. He had amassed fortune, and \nwas perhaps the best hated man in Jericho. For \nwhile the Jews hated the Roman government and \nabhorred its tax-laws, they were especially bitter \nagainst those of their own race who accepted office \nunder their despised conquerors. \n\nYou are familiar with the story of Christ\'s visit \nto the house of this chief publican, and it need not \nbe recited here. \n\nThe parable of the pounds, in which my text ap- \npears, was delivered at the table of Zaccheus. It was \nprimarily addressed to Christ\'s impatient disciples \n\n(125) \n\n\n\n126 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nand followers who were looking, with clamorous \neagerness, for him to assert his kingdom and to re- \nstore the vanished luster of David\'s house. But its \ngreat lessons are for all men of all times. The par- \nable takes its special complexion from the business \nworld, of which Zaccheus was the chief representa- \ntive in that company. \n\nLet us consider, in a brief outline of statement, \n\nI. The doctrine of the text. \n\n1. Here is the doctrine of stewardship. "He gave \nthem ten pounds.\'\' \n\nBut he gave upon conditions \xe2\x80\x94 "occupy." And \nnot for themselves\xe2\x80\x94 -"occupy till I come/\' then we \nwill take account of your trading. \n\n" Every good and perfect gift cometh down from \nabove." Whatever we have is of God\'s bestow- \nment. Every power of body or mind; every influ- \nence, whether growing out of social or official posi- \ntion; every opportunity, whether created by wealth \nor learning \xe2\x80\x94 in a word, all that we claim as our \nown is God\'s gift to us, and it is a gift upon condi- \ntions, to be used under law. \n\nWe have no absolute right to any thing; we have \nno independent claim; we have no authority to \nkeep, to use, or to dispose of any "talent" whatso- \never, whether of time, or genius, or learning, or \nmoney, or influence, except in accordance with the \nwill of the Giver. Speaking after the manner of \nmen, we may say that all deposited in our care is \nin the nature of a trust-fund. It must be used in a \ncertain way, and it must not be alienated from the \npurpose for which it is set apart. \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n127 \n\n\n\n2. Nothing can be plainer \xe2\x80\x94 the Giver requires his \nown with usury. \n\nTo each of his "ten servants" \xe2\x80\x94 that is, to every \nhuman being \xe2\x80\x94 the Lord says, "Occupy \xe2\x80\x94 use \xe2\x80\x94 till \nI come." The figure is taken from money invested \nin business that it may be increased. He says not, \nSpend as you will, wasting the very capital itself. \nThe command is, "Trade with it." "Till I come" \nintimates account-taking at the end. To those serv- \nants who did trade with their lord\'s money so as \nto increase the sum of it, he says, " Well, thou good \nand faithful servant." He is approved and reward- \ned for his wise and profitable trading. The lord \nis not content with getting back his own. Hear \nthe plea of the unfaithful and wicked servant, whose \nfault is that he had done nothing: "And another \ncame, saying, Lord, behold, here is thy pound, which \nI have kept laid up in a napkin; for I feared thee, \nbecause thou art an austere man; thou takest up \nthat thou layedst not down, and reapest that thou \ndidst not sow. And he saith unto him, Out of \nthine own mouth will I judge thee, thou wicked \nservant. Thou knewest that I was an austere \nman, taking up that I laid not down, and reaping \nthat I did not sow; wherefore then gavest not \nthou my money into the bank, that at my coming \nI might have required mine own with usury? \nAnd he said unto them that stood by, Take from \nhim the pound, and give it to him that hath ten \npounds. (And they said unto him, Lord, he hath \nten pounds.) For I say unto you, That unto every \none which hath, shall be given; and from him that \n\n\n\n128 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nhath not, even that he hath shall be taken away \nfrom him." \n\nSimply holding one\'s own, as the phrase is, does \nnot meet the case; increase there must be. In busi- \nness life we count him unsuccessful who has, at the \nend, only what he began with. To be counted suc- \ncessful, the business man must not simply not waste \nhis capital, nor barely keep it \xe2\x80\x94 he must increase it. \nThe man who winds up his life like the unfaithful \nservant, with only the one pound he started with, is \na failure. When a man\'s stewardship ends, he \nshould have something to show for it \xe2\x80\x94 there must \nbe some increment of his own. \n\n3. Fidelity in our stewardship is obedience to the \nlaw of life. God has constituted the world on this \nprinciple. There is life in obedience; death in dis- \nobedience. It is no mere arbitrary arrangement \nthat all the gifts of God are bestowed as trusts; that \nthey are to be used for the Giver \xe2\x80\x94 used upon con- \nditions and under law. It is not merely that the \nSupreme Ruler will not part with his own; it is \nthat his gifts cannot be truly and happily ours un- \nless they be received and used as trusts bestowed for \na time of reckoning. We cannot conceive of any \nother adjustment that would be good for us or for \nothers related to us. \n\nMan is neither strong, nor wise, nor good enough \nto be trusted with the absolute ownership or control \nof the pounds, or talents. The broadest minded \nman who ever lived cannot draw out a plan of life \nfor himself. The subject is so vast and complicated \nthat the Infinite Mind alone can grasp and master it. \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n129 \n\n\n\nThere is no greater folly than the folly of him \nwho says, 66 1 do my own thinking on this subject; \nI am my own master; I am my own lawgiver; I \nwill this; I forbear to will this." If untaught \nchildren need the guidance of a wise teacher as to \nboth the subjects and methods of their studies; if a \nmere boy does not even know the names of books \nthat are good for him; if the illiterate cannot devise \na wise course of college or university studies; if in \nall our little affairs of daily life there is need of in- \nstruction and apprenticeship, how much more does \nman need that an Infinite Intelligence lay down the \nlaws of all life and conduct. A mere man can no \nmore think out a complete and wise plan of life, \nunaided by higher wisdom, than he could think out \nthe whole mechanism of the universe. \n\nWhoever undertakes to live on his own plans \nfinds them lacking at a thousand points. He is \nutterly helpless in the attempt to execute them; \nthey are self-clestructive. \n\nMoreover, weak and ignorant though he may be, \nhe is yet too strong to be left without authority. \nThere must be over him authority; there must be \nin his heart the sense of responsibility to an Infinite \nPower. Any less power is inadequate. Only the \nconsciousness of God\'s claims upon us can keep \nman in his place \xe2\x80\x94 can make him true to his orbit. \nAlas! even this is not enough in multiplied thou- \nsands of lives. In our text is one who would not \nuse his pound as the Giver directed. \n\nLet us observe that the Absolute Ruler has so \nadjusted his government and the nature of man that \n9 \n\n\n\n130 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nwhile he retains ownership of the pounds bestowed \nupon him, that while he lays down the law as to \ntheir wise use, he yet leaves man perfectly free in \nthe management. He goes into a far country; he \nsays, " Occupy till I come." As if he had said, \n"This pound is mine; I trust it to your hands for \na time; I tell you to trade with it; but I leave it \nto you to obey or not. I will return and take ac- \ncount." \n\nThis liberty in the use of the gifts is itself one \nof the highest. The very liberty which makes re ? \nsponsibility possible is itself a most royal gift. He \nwho uses his liberty so as to obey the law of life\xe2\x80\x94 \nso as to work out God\'s plan of life \xe2\x80\x94 he is the freest \nof men, yet the completest of servants. \n\nGod no more relinquishes the government of men \nthan he does of the material universe. But there \nis infinite difference in the nature of his govern \nment. In the material universe there can be no \ndisobedience to law; the laws of gravity and chem- \nical affinity are self-enforcing. There can be no \nresistance. In these realms there is no self-centered \nwill that lifts itself up and says, "I will not do this, \nI will do that." \n\nA man cannot be governed on any such scheme \xe2\x80\x94 \nupon any system of mere force. So governed, he \ncould not be a man. A clod, a tree he might be, \nbut not a man. Our globe is under law, but not a \nlaw of stewardship. Its Maker says not to it, " Oc- \ncupy till I come." It was made for man, and the \nlaw that controls it is absolute. It must fill its place \nand move on in its path. Man is placed on it to \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n131 \n\n\n\nwork out his destiny. And God says to him, " Oc- \ncupy till I come." Liberty is necessary here; with- \nout it there is no responsibility, no character. The \nglobe gives no account-\xe2\x80\x94 it has no responsibility; man \nmust give account, for he can choose. \n\nObedience to this law of stewardship is life; dis- \nobedience is death. It is set forth in the text in \nvivid, dramatic form. The faithful servants are \nraised to thrones; the unfaithful are destroyed. \n\nLet us now consider some \n\nCorollaries that follow from the doctrine of stewards \nship. \n\n1. The doctrine is of universal application. \n\nIt applies to all men in all times and conditions. \nIt applies to all their affairs, great and small, per- \nsonal and relative. It applies to the whole of hu- \nman life, and not to a part of it only. As if limited, \n(1) by certain places; (2) certain times; (3) certain \nemployments. \n\nThis doctrine does not recognize the ordinary dis- \ntinction between things secular and things religious; \nit claims the whole of man\'s life, with all its pow- \ners, for Ood. I do not say that there is no differ- \nence between Sunday and Monday, between the \nchurch and the store. It is a great and ruinous \n\xe2\x80\xa2error to conclude that because we are to serve God \nalways and everywhere that therefore the peculiar \nduties that belong to the Sabbath and the house of \nworship are useless, or to be slightly esteemed. Dr. \nArnold, of Rugby, says, in one of his lectures on \n"Christian Life," on this very point: \n\n" Men have said that they were in all their actions \n\n\n\n132 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nof ordinary life doing Christ\'s will; that they en- \ndeavored always to be promoting some good object; \nand that the peculiar services of religion, as they \nare called, were useless, inasmuch as in spirit they \nare worshiping God always. This is a great error; \nbecause, as a matter of fact, it is false. AVe may \nsafely say that no man ever did keep his heart right \nwith God in his ordinary life: that no one ever be- \ncame one with Christ, and Christ with him, without \nseeking Christ where he reveals himself ; it may not \nbe more really, but to our weakness far more sensi- \nbly, than in the common business of daily life. We \nmay be happy if we can find Christ there, after we \nhave long sought him and found him in the way \nof his own ordinances, in prayer, and in his holy \ncommunion. Even Christ himself, when on earth, \nthough his whole day was undeniably spent in do- \ning the will of his Heavenly Father, although to \nhim doubtless God was ever present in the common- \nest acts no less than in the most solemn ; yet even \nhe, after a day spent in all good works, desired a \nyet more direct intercourse with God, and was ac- \ncustomed to spend a large portion of the night in \nprayer." \n\nBut this I urge: the obligation to observe the \nduties of the Sabbath, and to perform the duties \npeculiar to the house of God, is not higher, or in \nany sense more complete, than is the obligation to \ndo the work of Monday, whether in store, or school, \nor work-shop, or field, or wherever man\'s duty car- \nries him. with an eye single to the glory of God. \nAs says St. Paul, " Whatsover ye do in word or \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n133 \n\n\n\ndeed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving \nthanks to God and the Father by him." We must \nnot disconnect our Bible-reading, our prayers, our \ncommunion, our public or social or private devo- \ntions, from our daily occupations \xe2\x80\x94 from the common \nportions of our lives. Rightly understood and faith- \nfully used, there is no want of harmony between our \nduty in church and our duty in the place of daily \nlabor, between the duties peculiar to the holy Sab- \nbath and the duties of the other six days of the \nweek. Very far from it; they are in perfect har- \nmony, and are necessary to each other, like those \ndouble stars, of which astronomers tell us, that re- \nvolve about a common center. If one were gone, \nthe other would lose its center, and, of necessity, \nfind a new and alien orbit, or else, destroying and \ndestroyed, rush lawless through the heavens. \n\nHe who is unfaithful to his Sabbath duties cannot \nbe faithful in his six days\' work, as he who is un- \nfaithful in his six days cannot rightly render his \nSabbath service. He who is negligent of the duty \nhe owes in the house of God cannot render com- \nplete service in the place of labor, as he who is un- \nfaithful in the place of labor cannot render accept- \nable service in the place of prayer and praise. In \na word, he who does not try to live as a Christian \non all days and in all places cannot be a true Chris- \ntian on any clay or in any place. The specific du- \nties appropriate to certain days, and certain places, \nand certain emplojmients, have their obligation and \nsanction, not in the days, the places, or the employ- \nments, but in our relation to God. The obligation \n\n\n\n134 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nitself is as perfect, as binding, as solemn for one \nday as another, for one place as another, for one \nemployment as another. We may illustrate from a \nsimple and common case. A householder employs \na servant to do many different things, but the obli- \ngation to do any one thing has the same basis as the \nobligation to do any other thing. \n\nWhat I plead for is a place for Christ\' } s throne in his \nown world. He made it all; he upholds it all \xe2\x80\x94 "by \nhim all things subsist;" he redeemed it all, and it is \nall his by sacred and divine rights. But ignorance, \ncustom, conventionalism, fanaticism would rob him \nof by far the greater part of Ins own kingdom. The \nrobbery is not less complete if done under some \nplea of peculiar and excessive loyalty in that part \nof his kingdom in which he is recognized. The \nman who vexes his house with painful exactness in \nSabbath observances, but lives during the following \nsix days according to a law of his own devising, is \nas really disloyal to his King as is the man who \nobserves no Sabbath at all. I do not plead for a \nrelaxation in the obligation that binds us to perform \nour Sabbath duties, but that we recognize as of \nequal authority our obligation to fidelity to our trust \nevery other day. I do not ask that men think less \nreverently of the sanctuary, but that they remem- \nber and recognize Christ\'s claim upon their loyal \nservice in every place. I do not ask that preachers \nof the gospel think less solemnly of their responsi- \nbilities, of their obligations to lead pure and useful \nlives, but that every man recognize an equal obli- \ngation. \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n135 \n\n\n\nThere can be no question that by various devices \nand through the influence of personal habits of \nthought and of conduct, and through the customs \nof society, the majority of men have managed to \ntake away and. isolate, in greater or less degree, the \nlarger portion of their lives from the dominion of \nour Lord. Some have done this under the delusions \nof ignorance, imagining that Christ does not con- \ncern himself about the common labors and business \nconcerns of life; others under "the foolish and \nhypocritical pretense that they are too trifling and \ntoo familiar to be mixed with the thought of things \nso solemn."\' Men have revised our Lord\'s parable \nof the leaven hid in the meal that the whole lump \nmay be leavened; they would confine the leaven to \nsome little corner of the meal, taking care that it \ndoes not spread through the whole mass. The heav- \nenly light of religion, which its Author designed to \nlight up all the world, they would shut up in special \nplaces, or, if they venture with it into the streets \nand busy places of life, they must hide it under cov- \ners, or obscure it by smoked or colored glass. The \ndivine grace of holy living, that God designs to con- \nserve the whole of human life as a saving salt in \nthe earth, they would lock away in cloisters or other \nreceptacles for preserving instead of using religion. \nThere are no greater follies; there are few greater \nsins. \n\nDr. Arnold uses the illustration furnished by some \nheathen people, converted only in name, to set forth \nthe folly and sin of such exclusion of Christ from a \npart of our lives. When they came to be baptized \n\n\n\n136 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nthey were careful to keep the right-arm out of the \nwater, that it might not be brought under the \nauthority of Christ; they would keep that \xe2\x80\x94 their \n"sword-hand" \xe2\x80\x94 that with it they might, without \nsin, wreak upon their enemies works of hatred and \nvengeance which, in. their baptism, they had prom- \nised to renounce! "Is it too much," he inquires, \n" to say that something like this unbaptized right- \narm is still to be met with amongst us? that men \ntoo often leave some of their very most important \nconcerns \xe2\x80\x94 what they call by way of eminence their \nbusiness, their management of their own money af- \nfairs, and their conduct in public matters \xe2\x80\x94 wholly \nout of the control of Christ\'s law?" \n\nThis unbaptized right-arm in the Church, and in our \nChristian civilization to-day, is what men call the secu- \nlar world. \n\nI believe most solemnly that the great need of our \ntimes is the utter abolishment in Christian think- \ning, not of a mere speculative line of distinction, \nbut of a high and mighty wall which we have \nbuilt along the whole frontier of our every -clay \nlife, separating it from our religious life as the Chi- \nnese wall was intended to separate the "flowery \nkingdom" of the Celestials from savage deserts and \nmore savage tribes beyond. For the distinction \nis arbitrary, and of human invention. The only \ndistinction that exists is in the difference in duties \nproper to special times and places; there is abso- \nlutely no distinction in the essential nature of God\'s \nclaim upon us, or in the spirit of reverence and \nfidelity in which our service is to be rendered. \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n137 \n\n\n\nFurthermore, the distinctions we have invented have \ntheir real origin rather in a secret desire to have more \nfreedom from God\'s claim upon us in what we call sec- \nular life than to magnify his claim upon our religious \nlife. It is not that we seek to elevate the standard \nof religion in our Sabbath life, but that we would \nlower it in our week-day life. \n\nI do not forget that our Lord, as well as his apos- \ntles, give us many solemn warnings against con- \nformity to the " world." But many mistake the \nmeaning of the term as employed in the New Tes- \ntament. It does not mean human society, but the \nChristless spirit in society; not the six days, but \nthe Christless spirit in all days; not business, but \nChristless living in all things. \n\nThere is much confusion of thought, if not down- \nright nonsense, in the use that many persons make \nof the word " worldliness." It is not business; it \nis not money-making, or money-spending; it is not \nsociety; it is not politics; it is not this or that par- \nticular form of week-day life and activity \xe2\x80\x94 but any \nand all life that rules Christ out of itself. "Occupy \ntill I come" covers all human life. Christ asserts his \nperfect claim upon all our energies and all our time. \nWe are as much under his law in business as in \nworship; in the field or work-shop, or in our social \nreunions, as in the closet, or around the sacramental \ntable. \n\nThe invention of a distinction between things \nsacred and things secular that neither reason, nor \nnature, nor revelation recognizes, accounts for much \nwrong-doing and sin. For it has given us two utter- \n\n\n\n138 \n\n\n\nOccujpy till I Come). \n\n\n\nly different worlds, with different conventional tests \nand measures of right and wrong. "Whereas there \nis one world only for Christ\'s servants, just as there \nis one Lawgiver and one law. This invented dis- \ntinction is supposed to give men margin on certain \ndays, in certain placeSj and in certain employments, \nfor living according to their own wills, as if God\'s \nwill were suspended and man\'s obligation intermit- \ntent. People who set up this distinction allow \nthemselves to do things on work-days they condemn \nas exceedingly sinful on hoT) 7 -days. This false think- \ning allows itself a spirit and purpose of life on Mon- \nday that damns on Sunday; allows in business what \nit shrinks from in horror in what it calls religion. \n\nIt has a huge " right-arm unbaptized," with which \nit proposes to work out its own ungoverned will in \nregions where it recognizes neither God nor Christ. \nAnd with this arm it crucifies Christ afresh and in \nhis holy temple. \n\nII. The doctrine of the text dignifies and makes \nsacred, all of human life, the lowliest and the loftiest. \n\nIt is to me inconceivable that God should have \nconstituted the world in such way that the work we \nmust do to live at all \xe2\x80\x94 to get bread, and clothing, \nand shelter \xe2\x80\x94 can, if rightly done, be unfriendly to \nour highest life, the life of religion, of communioti \nwith God, of oneness with Christ. As if a man \nshould build a vast and complicated factory and fill \nit with machinery to make cloth, and yet so adjust \nit all that just six-sevenths of its power antagonizes \nthe seventh ; that his carding and spinning machines \ndestroy his looms; that the very end for which it \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n139 \n\n\n\nall exists should become impossible whenever the \nmachinery is put in motion. \n\nWhat are " means of grace?" Most persons will \nanswer, "Prayer, the reading of the Bible, the \npreaching of the word, devotional meetings, and \nsuch like practices and observances." And so they \nare; but they are not all, nor the half, nor the \ngreater part. Work is a means of grace, whether \nat the carpenter\'s bench, the blacksmith\'s forge, the \nfarmer\'s plow, the student\'s desk, the mother\'s \nwork-room, the servant\'s kitchen \xe2\x80\x94 all work needful \nto be done in this world is an essential part of God\'s \nappointed means of making us what he would have \nus to be, true children in the likeness of Christ his \nSon. Till we understand this we do not know the \ntrue law of human life, the real secret of religion. \n\nI do not mean simply that our business affairs \nmay be carried on in such way that they do not an- \ntagonize and destroy our religion, but something \nmuch more important; I mean that we cannot be \nreligious in any true sense, or on any broad and \nhigh plan, if we do not so conduct our business \naffairs. Just as the physician when he enjoins ex- \nercise does not mean it is consistent with health, but \nthat there cannot be health without it. He does \nnot say, You may work and be well, but, Without \nwork you cannot be well; without work you can- \nnot even live. If we would be truly religious, it \nis as indispensable that we conduct our business \naffairs in the spirit of the gospel as that we pray \nreverently. \n\nWhat is holy ground? What are holy-clays? All \n\n\n\n140 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nground is holy, and all days are hoi}\', if used in the \nname and in the spirit of Christ our Lord. \n\nPardon me when I say there is in much of our \ncurrent talk about these things, no little pious slang \nand cant. When we hear men denouncing the \nworld we live in and our state of existence as a \n" waste howling wilderness; " when they seek, by \nrhetorical declamations, to degrade this present life, \nthey are talking worse than nonsense. It is an \naffront to the sovereign and all-wise Creator who \nmade the world and placed us in it as the best pos- \nsible place for a time. He said, when he made it, \n"It is very good." Not simply good in itself, but \ngood for man. This world is not a waste howling \nwilderness; it is beautiful; it is our home; we love \nit, and we ought to love it. Our all-wise and loving \nFather has taken infinite pains to make this world \nthe most suitable for us of all places in his universe. \nIf this world is no f riend to grace to help as on to God, \nit is our abuse of it that has made it unfriendly \xe2\x80\x94 the \ntrouble is in us. If we "use this world as not abus- \ning it," it is in all things to us as a friend to grace. \nAnd our business life \xe2\x80\x94 the occupations and cares \nthat the great primal law of labor make necessary \nfor us \xe2\x80\x94 all this is also good for us, if we are wise \nenough to learn, and faithful enough to obey God. \n\nThis world, this life, with all the possibilities they \nafford, are intrusted to us to use for their great Pro- \nprietor and Lord. He bids us receive them and \n" occupy till his coming" to take account of our \nstewardship. \n\nThere can be no question that this world, and the \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n141 \n\n\n\nbusiness life that belongs to it, is absolutely necessary \nto rightly fit us for the next. We cannot truly pre- \npare for the next world without using this world. The \nbest preparation for heaven is the right use of this \nworld and this life. Jesus Christ did not teach that \ncloisters are means of grace; he lived among his \nfellow-men. He who lives six days as if there were \nno divine claim upon him, pretending to serve God \nthe seventh day, abuses this world, and to him it is \nno longer a field in which to train himself for higher \nand better things \xe2\x80\x94 it becomes his burying-ground; he \nsinks his true life by not recognizing the true uses \nof this world and its work. He who is secular on \nsecular days, and religious only on religious days, \ndissevers this life from the next. To him this world, \ninstead of being a training-school to prepare him \nfor heavenly and immortal things, becomes a final \nfinishing -school. He looks not beyond it, and there- \nfore misses its real significance. And beyond it he \nnever goes nor rises. \n\nWe shall hardly get to the bottom of the solemn \nwords of our text, " Occupy till I come." He will \ncome \xe2\x80\x94 come to take account of our stewardship. \nFor his coming and account-taking we cannot get \nready by burying our pound and keeping it for him \n\xe2\x80\x94 as if the very work to which he assigned us were, \nin some way, contaminating \xe2\x80\x94 as if the very thing \nhe commands us to do were the one thing that unfits \nus for his coming. His words are fearful to those \nindolent and conceited souls who choose their own \nway and seek to avoid responsibility by dodging it: \n" Take from him the pound, and give it to him that \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nhath ten pounds. For I say unto you, That unto \nevery one that hath shall be given ; and from him \nthat hath not. even that he hath shall be taken \naway from him ! " \n\nYoung men, if you would be ready for your Lord\'s \ncoming, you must take him into your every-day life. \nYou must take him into your business; into your \nshops and stores, your fields and offices, your labors \nand your aspirations, your private and public life. \nAVhere he cannot go with you, you must not go at \nall. George Macdouald says truly : " There is a holy \nway of doing business, and little as business men \nthink it, that is the standard by which they must \nbe tried, for their judge in business affairs is not \ntheir own trade or profession, but the Man who \ncame to convince the world concerning right and \nwrong, and the choice between them." \n\nThe best and only true preparation for the life to \ncome is found in the godly use of the life that now \nis. The true watcher for his Lord\'s coming is the \ntrue worker of whom Christ says, " Blessed are \nthose servants whom when his Lord comes he shall \nfind so doing." \n\nAn extreme illustration of the folly and sin against \nwhich I would warn you has been several times fur- \nnished by certain lunatic pre-adventists, who. assum- \ning that they had unlocked the secrets of the divine \nmind, have, at different times, fixed upon certain \ndays for the ending of this world and all its affairs. \nAnd what sort of preparation do they make? It is \nseen in the neglect of the plainest duties of life; in \nidling when they should have been working; in \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n143 \n\n\n\nsinging wild and fanatical songs about descending \nchariots when they should have been driving their \nplows; in making shroud-like things they called \n" ascension-robes" instead of making garments for \nthe poor and friendless. This sort of thing is absurd \nand revolting to the last degree. But it is only less \nabsurd than the notions of those religionists who \nsubstitute certain emotional raptures for a life truly \n" hid with Christ in God ; " who talk much of faith in \nChrist but have no good works to prove their faith; \nwho, to use Edwards Irving\'s stinging phrase, hunt \nfor the basis of their religion in their nervous system, \nand not in the law and will of Christ Jesus the Lord. \n\nLet me make the test sharp and pungent. We \nwill try ourselves by an infallible criterion. Jesus \nwas about thirty years old when he entered upon \nhis public ministry. Till that time, except a short \nvisit to Jerusalem in boyhood, he had spent his \nwhole life in the retirement of a little Galilean town \nof small importance and sinister reputation. What \ndid he do and in what spirit did he do it during all \nthose thirty years? Was he an idler, a gentlemanly \nloafer, a mere hanger-on about the house of his re- \nputed father, the industrious Joseph? The thought \nseriously entertained would be profanation. During \nthose thirty years he was "about his Father\'s busi- \nness," and just as really when he drove the plane \nor the saw in the shop of carpenter Joseph as when \nhe stood among the doctors of the law in the tem- \nple, both hearing and asking them questions. For \nJ esus was a worker, a carpenter, a builder of houses, \nas Joseph was. "Is not this the carpenter?" one \n\n\n\n144 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nasked, when lie wondered at his works and his wis- \ndom. The question carried its own answer. Bat \nwere there no allusion whatever to his occupations, \nit is simply unthinkable that Jesus, the exemplar \nof men, spent thirty years in soft -handed and \nwell-shaded indolence. I love to think of his face \nbrowned by the Syrian sun, and of his hands hard- \nened and horny with daily toil. \n\nIn what spirit did Jesus do his carpenter\'s w T ork? \nTry to think of him as doing careless work! You \ncannot. How then can you think of any carpenter, \nwho is Christ\'s servant, doing careless work? Or \ncf any man, in any calling, doing careless or dishon- \nest work? Jesus did the best work he could do; he \ndid it as in the presence of his Father, as unto the \nLord. And there is no other way. \n\nIt is said of Hugh Miller that when he was a \nstone-mason at Cromarty, he "put his conscience in \nevery stone he laid." That was religion. Thomas \nCarlyle draws a picture of his father, James Carlyle, \nbuilding the stone piers of a bridge so thoroughly \nand conscientiously that forty years afterward the \nold man looked upon them with satisfaction as wor- \nthy expressions of a conscientious man\'s life and \nlabor. There was more Christ in old James Car- \nlyle\'s stone piers than in all his famous son\'s denun- \nciations of affectation and cant. \n\nI cannot reconcile my mind to the too prevalent \nview that the great primal law of labor is a curse. \nThe example of Christ, his spirit, the teaching of \nhis gospel, and the experience of his people, show \nus that this much-despised law holds the richest \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\n145 \n\n\n\nblessing for man. God has so arranged the scheme \nof the world and of human life that what we must \ndo to subsist is just what we most need to do to \nachieve the noblest and best results in ourselves, \nand for both worlds. The gospel makes labor \xe2\x80\x94 the \nlowliest \xe2\x80\x94 a blessing. If our perishing bodies bind \nus to the dust, God has so adjusted the demands and \nnecessities of nature and the provisions and proc- \nesses of grace that nature becomes servant to grace. \nIn the very toils necessary to support our bodies \nthat die we find growth and blessing for our souls \nthat never die. \n\nIII. Our text reproves and checks impatience in our \nwork \xe2\x80\x94 " Occupy till I come." \n\nTrue faith waits as well as works and dares. He \nwill come, although the tempter whispers sometimes, \n" Our Lord delayeth his coming," and suggests re- \nlaxation in our toils and in our watching. \n\nIn the world into which you now enter, young \nmen, you will have need of a faith that can endure \ntill the end come. I beg you think on these weighty \nwords, "Occupy till I come" If you do your full \nduty as men who recognize your true relation to \nGod there will come times and occasions that will \ntry your faith. If you do your full duty to Christ \nthere will come occasions when many friends will \npart company with you, when you may find your- \nselves alone with Christ. Be it so; remember the \nwords he spoke at the publican\'s table, " Occupy \ntill I come." He will come. \n\nIV. Christ rewards such working and waiting like a \nking. \n\n10 \n\n\n\n146 \n\n\n\nOccupy till I Come. \n\n\n\nThere is nothing meager about him, either in his \nplans or rewards. He intends us to live largely \nwhile we live in this world. But greater things \nawait us if we are faithful to him. Let us read in \nthe conclusion of this discourse what the Lord will \nsay to the true and faithful ones who "occupy till \nhe comes." \n\n"Then came the first, saying, Lord, thy pound \nhath gained ten pounds. And he said unto him, \nWell, thou good servant; because thou hast been \nfaithful in a very little, have thou authority over \nten cities." \n\n"And the second came, saying, Lord, thy pound \nhath gained five pounds. And he said likewise unto \nhim, Be thou also over five cities." \n\nZaccheus was himself an appointee of the Roman \nEmpire. He understood how the emperor had \ngiven kingdoms away. Herod held his crown by \ngrace of Rome. What the Roman emperors gave \nin caprice became to him a faint but impressive illus- \ntration of the divine gifts of the one true King of \nthe universe, who gives to those who share his toils \nand sufferings. He will return, and not as he came \nat first \xe2\x80\x94 in a lowly manger in Bethlehem. He will \ncome in the clouds, glorious, majestic, victorious, \nwith tens of thousands of his saints and holy angels. \nThen will he reward, in a kingly way, his faithful ones \n\xe2\x80\x94 the humblest and obscurest as well as the greatest \nand most illustrious of his servants and his friends. \n\nMy dear young friends, if we do our work here \nin the spirit of Christ, if he share our labors with \nus, we shall reign with him forever and ever. \n\n\n\nTHE CHRISTIAN CITIZEN. \n\n\n\n[A SERMON.-] \n\n\n\n" Put them in mind to be subject to principalities and pow- \ners, to obey magistrates, to be ready to every good work " \n(i. e., those good works due to government). Titus iii. 1. \n\nTHE subject of this discourse is The Christian \nCitizen. These terms are brought together \nadvisedly, for I am not about to speak of the Chris- \ntian simply, nor of the citizen simply, but of the \nChristian citizen \xe2\x80\x94 of his responsibilities and duties. \nI do not discuss, at this time, those moralities that \nare binding on us as men, but as members of a com- \nmunity, living under the same government. The \nobligation to be truthful, honest, sober, chaste, in- \ndustrious, economical, charitable, useful \xe2\x80\x94 in a word, \nto be religious as individuals, is not to be argued at \nthis time. My theme is: The responsibilities and \nduties that grow out of our relation to society, to \nlaw and order, to government. \n\nThis is a proper theme for the pulpit, for religion \nconcerns itself with all things that concern the wel- \nfare of man. Moreover, the duties of the citizen \nare Christian duties. All real duties are Christian \n\n* Preached before the students of Emory College and the \ncitizens of Oxford, Ga., Jan. 9, 1881; and in Trinity Church, \nAtlanta, Ga., Jan. 30, 1881. \n\n(147) \n\n\n\n148 The Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nduties; all duties have a divine warrant and foun- \ndation; whatever a man ought to do at all, he owes \nit to God to do. Beligion claims the w T hole life; its \nhand is laid upon all our powers. It is a fatal mis- \ntake, and not less fatal because it is frequent, to sup- \npose that part of our life belongs to God, and part \nof it to any other lord whatsoever. Many speak \nand act as if they belonged to God on Sunday in a \nsense they do not belong to him on Monday \xe2\x80\x94 as if \nthey owed him an allegiance at the altar from which \nthey are free in the workshop, in the counting-room, \nand at the ballot-box. \n\nThe sort of distinction we are accustomed to make \nbetween things secular and things sacred is un- \nknown to the word of God. It is a distinction in- \nvented \xe2\x80\x94 not, as some suppose, to preserve things \nsacred, but rather to secure greater license for indi- \nvidual preference in other things. I do not forget \nthat some things are becoming on Sunday which \nwould be out of place on Monday; that some things \nare right on Monday which would be wrong on Sun- \nday; that there are duties peculiar to the house of \nprayer, and other duties peculiar to the place of \nlabor. Nevertheless, it is true, and it cannot be \nstated too strongly, that he who is truly a Christian \non one day is a Christian on all days; that he who \nis truly a Christian in one place is a Christian in all \nplaces; that he who is truly a Christian in one re- \nlation is a Christian in all relations. If you doubt \nthe soundness of these views, consider what St. Paul \nsays: " Whether ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye \ndo, do all to the glory of God." And in another \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. 149 \n\n\n\nplace he says: " Whatsoever ye do in word, or deed, \ndo all in the name of the Lord Jesus." There are \nmany passages in God\'s word that teach the same \ndoctrine. If, now, there are duties that grow out \nof our citizenship, they are Christian duties, for we \nare the Lord\'s. \n\nI. Before discussing the responsibilities and duties \nof Christian citizenship, let us consider briefly the \nBible doctrine of government. I will repeat substan- \ntially some thoughts presented to your attention in \nNovember last. "We may be sure that when we find \njust what this Bible doctrine of government is, we \ncan then build our institutions upon a foundation \nthat can never fail. \n\nLet me read two passages of Scripture, of broad \nscope and unmistakable meaning. I read first, Ro- \nmans xiii. 1-7. This is St. Paul\'s language. St. \nPeter gives us a statement not less distinct and em- \nphatic. I read 1 Peter ii. 13-18. There are other \npassages of like character, but these will suffice. \n\nWhy should we obey law? Why should we seek \nto promote the efficiency and usefulness of the gov- \nernment, whether municipal, State, or national \xe2\x80\x94 \nwhether domestic, civil, or ecclesiastical \xe2\x80\x94 under \nwhich we live? What is the ground of our obliga- \ntion to be subject to " the powers that be "? to obey \ngovernment? There can be no doubt as to the \nBible doctrine on this subject. It may be stated \nonly in outline at this time. \n\n1. God\'s will is the foundation of all law and au- \nthority, as he is the Source of all existence. \n\n2. God ordains government \xe2\x80\x94 that is, the thing, \n\n\n\n150 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nnot the form. Those who are governed should de- \ntermine the form. The texts just read are as appli- \ncable to one form as to another. \n\n3. Obedience to " the powers that be " is a duty, \nnot only as to our rulers, but as to God, who is \nLord and Governor of all. \n\n4. Let us observe closely \xe2\x80\x94 for it is a matter of \nvital importance \xe2\x80\x94 it is not to the king, or presi- \ndent, or governor, we owe obedience, but to the \nruler; not simply to the highest, "the king as su- \npreme," but to all rulers; to "governors" also of \nevery grade, as representing the highest; rather, as \nrepresenting, under him, the law and government \nthat are back of and above him \xe2\x80\x94 that is, to push \nthe thought farther, but not too far, not merely \nthe law and constitution of the State, but the divine \nlaw and constitution of the universe. Wherefore, \nSt Paul says: "Render to all their dues; tribute to \nwhom tribute is due; custom to whom custom; fear \nto whom fear; honor to whom honor." St. Peter \nteaches the same doctrine. So does Moses. So \ndoes our Lord himself. \n\nThe foundation -truth of the whole doctrine is \nthis: Whosoever administers legitimate authority \nrepresents, in so far forth as his office and functions \ngo, God. Men speak sometimes of " God\'s vicar- \ngeneral." He has none \xe2\x80\x94 neither in king, nor pope, \nnor democracies. God\'s vicar, his representative, is \ngovernment \xe2\x80\x94 all rightful government fulfilling his \nwill. Just as the simplest, as well as the most com- \nplex, processes of Nature show forth the power, and \nthe wisdom, and the good providence of God, so the \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. 151 \n\n\n\nhumblest office-bearer, enforcing the least of all laws \nthat are in harmony with eternal righteousness, rep- \nresents the majesty and authority of the divine gov- \nernment. The principle and the obligation are the \nsame, whether it be the president, the emperor, the \nking, the governor, the council, the mayor, the local \nmagistrate, the town-marshal, the parent, or the \nvillage school-teacher. In a word, whoever bears \nrightful rule does, in his sphere and office, whether \nit be great or small, represent the divine govern- \nment. Hence, St. Paul says: " Whoso resisteth the \npower" \xe2\x80\x94 in things lawfully commanded \xe2\x80\x94 " resist- \neth God." This makes office-bearing a most sacred \nthing \xe2\x80\x94 u not to be taken in hand unadvisedly, but \nreverently, discreetly, advisedly, and in the fear of \nGod." \n\n(The right of amending bad laws; of seeking, by \nright methods, to change unsatisfactory administra- \ntions, or even the right of revolution \xe2\x80\x94 if it come to \nthat \xe2\x80\x94 all guaranteed to our race by the Scriptures \nand by sound reason, it is not needful to discuss at \nthis time. But it may be remarked that even revo- \nlution should have this basis \xe2\x80\x94 that it seeks obedi- \nence to that which is the real law. Revolution \nbecomes a duty when literal obedience would be \nreal disobedience; for all authority and government \nshould " make for righteousness," and all powers \namong men should be brought into accord with the \nhighest and holiest \xe2\x80\x94 the will of God. " Children, \nobey your parents \xe2\x80\x94 in the Lord," expresses the \nprinciple and implies the limitation. There is no \nauthority more sacred than the parental, but it \n\n\n\n152 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nmust be exercised "in the Lord;" otherwise, au- \nthority is so perverted that obedience becomes dis- \nobedience.) \n\nII. In the light of the great principles set forth \nin the Scriptures, we may inquire concerning the \nnature of our obligation to obey law, to respect govern- \nment \xe2\x80\x94 in a word, to perform the duties of citizenship. \n\nThe Bible doctrine is: Our duties of citizenship \nare duties to God. I make bold to say, Most of our \ncivil and political troubles have come of our forget- \nting this truth. In a very large degree we have, in \nour vanity, and in the blindness born of vanity, sub- \nstituted vox populi for vox Dei. In some countries \nmen talk superstitiously of the " divine right of \nkings; " in our country demagogues talk flippantly \nof the " divine rights of the people." They say, as \na tribute to human pride, Vox populi, vox Dei \xe2\x80\x94 " The \nvoice of the people is the voice of God." This de- \npends \xe2\x80\x94 on the voice, what it utters. For, alas! vox \npopuli is sometimes vox diabolL Let us ask soberly \nwhether law is only vox populi; whether law has \nno higher sanctions than the w 7 ill of the majority; \nwhether the ballot-box or Mount Sinai has the high- \ner claim upon conscience; whether our obligation to \nobey law is bottomed on the will of the people, or \ncreated by the will and enforced by the authority of \nGod. My brethren, the will of God gives to law its \nauthority and its sanctions, and the voice of the \npeople creates no obligation except as it expresses \nthe will of God. Instead of proudly and foolishly \nsubstituting vox populi for vox Dei, it is the best \nstudy and the noblest achievement of true states- \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n158 \n\n\n\nmanship to secure a " voice of the people " that \nechoes faithfully the " voice of God." \n\nIII. Out of the principles and facts that have \nbeen pointed out grows the true doctrine of indi- \nvidual responsibility in citizenship. \n\nThis doctrine is of transcendent importance in a \nsystem of government like ours \xe2\x80\x94 a system whose \ncharacteristic fact is universal suffrage. Where \nevery man votes, it is needful \xe2\x80\x94 if we are to have \nthe best results of elections, it is necessary \xe2\x80\x94 that \nevery voter should realize his personal responsibil- \nity in the exercise of his great power in determin- \ning, by the ballot, the policy of a government and \nthe fate of a people. \n\nSo far as my duty as a citizen is concerned, the \nquestion is not, What ought one among many, one \namong millions, to do? but, What ought one, what \nought J, to clo? The question, so far as respon- \nsibility is concerned, is personal \xe2\x80\x94 it is mine; so far \nas the influence of my vote goes, it is also yours. \nThere will be, I think, no doubt in the mind of any \nhearer when I say we do not, as we ought, realize \nour individual responsibility as citizens of a coun- \ntry, where the votes of the people determine the \nmost important questions that affect our state in \nthis world. \n\nLet me make my meaning as plain as possible. \nLet us suppose a case: The Legislature is, we may \nsay, in session. A law most unwise in its provisions, \nand hurtful in its tendency, is introduced and passed. \nThe whole people suffer. Suppose also that I voted \nfor the member who brought this law forward, or \n\n\n\n154 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen* \n\n\n\nfor some one of the members who helped to pass it. \nHave I any responsibility in this case? Undoubt- \nedly. In so far as my vote enters into the history \nof this bad law, it is my law. Whether I voted for \nan unfit law-maker understanding^ or ignorantly, \nin either case I have a personal responsibility in the \nlaw that I can by no device escape. \n\nLet us change the illustration. A county officer, \nknown as ordinary, is to be chosen. There are \nnumbers of candidates. Suppose that, for any con- \nsideration, I vote for and so help to elect a man who \nlacks ability or integrity, or both, and that through \nthe blunders or crimes of this ordinary, whom I have \nhelped to elect, great wrongs are committed. It \nmay turn out that a whole county is, in some way, \nrobbed of its treasures, or that many widows and \norphans are defrauded. Am I not responsible in \nthis thing? Yea, verily. He is my ordinary. Sup- \npose \xe2\x80\x94 to offer one more illustration where scores \nmight be given \xe2\x80\x94 I help to make a justice of the \npeace of one who is ignorant, drunken, open to \nbribes, and that some friendless wretch suffers \nwrong at the hands of this justice \xe2\x80\x94 my justice, if \nyou please. Am I blameless? Nay, verily. He is \nmy justice. \n\nI have applied the doctrine of individual respon- \nsibility in only one direction \xe2\x80\x94 that of the exercise of \nthe perilous right of suffrage; but it applies in all \ndirections where our duties of citizenship are con- \ncerned. I cannot go farther into details at this \npoint. But I commend the matter to your medita- \ntions. As it appears to me, there is hardly one \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n155 \n\n\n\nthing so sorely needed among us at this time as the \nreawakening of the personal conscience in our rela- \ntion to government. \n\nIV. In order to discharge our individual respon- \nsibility to government, there must be perfect individual \nfreedom. \n\nIt is a mere truism to say, Without freedom there \nis no choice, and, therefore, no responsibility. But \nit needs restatement in its relations to the obliga- \ntions and duties of citizenship. Representative \ngovernment without individual responsibility is an \nabsurdity; responsibility without freedom is an im- \npossibility. \n\nWhen I say the voter must be free, I do not mean \nso obvious a thing as freedom from mere force; I \nmean his mind as well as his body must be free. \nSuppose a voter at the polls, ready to cast his ballot. \nHow is that vote determined? by avarice, by ter- \nror, by appetite, by hatred, by any influence that \ndetermines the decision against his judgment as to \nwhat is wise, and against his conscience as to what \nis right? That influence has mastered him, has un- \nfitted him for the office and duty of a voter. \n\nPlease to observe that I am not attacking party \norganizations. Nothing is more certain than that \nparties will exist; few things are more desirable \nthan that they should be useful to the State. But \ngranting all that may truthfully be said in their \nfavor, I yet affirm that our duty of citizenship, so \nfar as voting is concerned, can in nowise be per- \nformed without freedom of choice and of action. \nIf a party organization is to accomplish that for \n\n\n\n156 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nwhich it presumably exists \xe2\x80\x94 that for which it must \nexist in order to justify its existence at all \xe2\x80\x94 that is, \nthe good of all the people \xe2\x80\x94 then, in order to accom- \nplish this good end, the individual must be free, ab- \nsolutely free, to follow his own judgment and his \nown conscience. \n\nA citizen who has right views and right convic- \ntions on public questions, and who follows an en- \nlightened judgment and a good conscience, will \ngenerally vote w T ith some party (for there will al- \nways be two parties, and sometimes more than two), \nbut not because it is the party considered as such, \nbut because it best interprets what, before God, he \nbelieves to be the need and duty of the hour. Else- \nwise he surrenders so much, not only of his per- \nsonal judgment, but of his personal conscience, to \na power outside of himself \xe2\x80\x94 hence, surrenders not \nsimply so much of his independence as a man, but \nof his value as a citizen. In such a case he does \nnot truly vote\xe2\x80\x94 he only registers the opinion of \nothers. \n\nHere let me say, If it shall ever come to pass that \na party exists only for its own sake; if it holds to- \ngether only for the sake of the offices it can hold \nand the emoluments it can win; if it is used only as \nan instrument for the advancement of ambitious \nmen \xe2\x80\x94 then such a party is truly described in the lan- \nguage of the street \xe2\x80\x94 it is indeed a "machine." It \nhas no longer a claim upon the confidence or suf- \nfrages of patriotic citizens; it can no longer offer a \nvalid reason for its continued existence; it has for- \nfeited its right to live; it is time that it should die, \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. 157 \n\n\n\nand be buried out of the sight of men. But when a \nparty seeks the good of the whole people, then let \nit offer its proofs, both in sound doctrine and in \nuseful measures. The party which has the best \nproofs has the highest claims, and free, patriotic, \nand conscientious citizens will so decide. \n\nI do not at this time enlarge farther upon the \nnecessity of free thought and honest judgment in \nall matters involving the citizen considered as a \nvoter, but I beg you, my brethren, to meditate upon \nthe relation between a perfectly discharged respon- \nsibility and a perfectly exercised freedom. \n\nV. Let us now consider the Christian citizen in some \nof his most important characters and duties. \n\n1. As a voter. \n\n(1) First of all, the Christian citizen (I speak of \nhim as I believe he ought to be) will vote when \nmeasures are to be determined, and rulers are to be \nelected. Uo man charged by law with the duty of \nvoting has a moral right to decline that duty. Ab- \nsenting himself from the polls, refusing to vote, does \nnot leave one in the position of having had nothing \nto do with an election. In a government like ours, \na citizen qualified to vote cannot, by any sort of \nvoluntary inaction, throw himself outside of the re- \nsponsibilities of a voter. If two or more men offer \nthemselves for office, and the one least qualified is \nchosen, the citizen who declined to vote must share \nthe responsibility of his election. Suppose a drunk- \nard elected by a majority of one, when your Chris- \ntian voter, from indifference, or preoccupation, or \nfear, refused to cast his ballot. He cannot escape \n\n\n\n158 The Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nthe responsibility of the shame and the wrong; his \none vote might, at least, have prevented that evil \nchoice. \n\nI have mentioned the simplest case purposely; it \nis easy to enlarge and make applications. \n\nBut this doctrine \xe2\x80\x94 that it is the citizen\'s duty, \nboth to God and to men, to vote \xe2\x80\x94 should be preached \nand enforced till it becomes a matter not merely of \nparty fealty, but of good conscience, to meet the re- \nsponsibilities and to perform the duties that belong \nto our right of citizenship. A great and lament- \nable cry is heard in our land that the country is \ncursed by unfit men in office. It is my deliberate \njudgment that these unfit men would not be in of- \nfice if tens of thousands of well-meaning but mis- \ntaken citizens had not failed to cast their ballots as \na good judgment and a good conscience would have \ndetermined. Let these non-voting citizens, whose \ntongues are not lacking in denunciations of the po- \nlitical corruptions that oppress the whole people, \nw T hose neglect of one of the highest duties of citizen- \nship has indirectly but effectively brought these \nwoes upon us \xe2\x80\x94 let these non-voting citizens " re- \npent and do their first works." There are enough \nof them to turn the scale in almost any important \nelection, and, for the most part, their instincts would \nlead them to vote for the fittest men and measures. \nIt is a hard thing to saj T , but it is true \xe2\x80\x94 there arc \nmultitudes of Christian men w 7 hose consciences \nshould lash them for their guilty indifference and \ninaction in this high duty of citizenship. Had \nthese men stood in their lot and done their duty, \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n159 \n\n\n\nthere are many dark chapters in our political his- \ntory that would never have been written. \n\n(2) The true Christian citizen will not merely \nvote \xe2\x80\x94 he will vote on his judgment and conscience, as \nunto God. If you please, such a man will " vote as \nhe prays/\' He will " mix his religion with his poli- \ntics" just as he does with his buying and selling; \nthat is, as a religious man, he will endeavor to do \nhis whole duty, that he may keep " a conscience \nvoid of offense before God and men." What do I \nmean by " vote as he prays?" I will tell you. \nYour Christian citizen prays, as he is divinely com- \nmanded to do, that the Sovereign Ruler would bless \nthe land with good government. If his prayers are \nworth any thing, he will not go from his knees and \nvote against his judgment and against his con- \nscience. No party exigencies can justify him in \ndoing so insincere a thing; if he is a free man, no \nparty discipline can compel him to do it. If there \nis any thing in his pra} r ers, he will not go from his \nknees and vote for a drunkard, a gambler, a liber- \ntine, a corrupter of men \xe2\x80\x94 no matter how brilliant \nhis talents, nor how exalted his name. If two cor- \nrupt men are candidates, and there is no other, he \nwill vote for neither. But he will vote, and for \nsome man who is fit for office, if he receive only \nthis one vote. Such a vote is not " thrown away;" \nit has its worth; it is a free and conscientious man\'s \nprotest; it is a condemnation of vice; it is a com- \nmendation of virtue. Such a man may, for the \ntime, be as solitary as John the Baptist when he \nfirst appeared preaching in the deserts of Judea \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\n\n160 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nonly " the voice of one crying in the wilderness." \nBut it is a call to " repentance," and it is worth \nmore to the country than the triumph of any party \nin the election of a corrupt man to "lord it over \nGod\'s heritage." \n\nPlease to observe, I am not talking of an inde- \npendent party, but of an unspeakably better and \nmore important thing \xe2\x80\x94 a manly and conscientious \npersonal independence of parties. The Christian \nvoter who does his duty does not merge his respon- \nsibility in his party; he does not surrender his free- \ndom to any demand that does not satisfy his con- \nscience. \n\nThere is a good deal said about the blessings " a \nnew party " might bring to the country. What we \nwant are men \xe2\x80\x94 free men, conscientious men \xe2\x80\x94 who \nwill not, for any party, vote against their conscience. \nWe want men who say, I am with my party when \nit serves the true interests of my country; but if my \nparty favors vicious measures, or puts forward cor- \nrupt men, then it is my duty to my country and to \nmy God to help to defeat my party. And if his par- \nty be worth saving, he might say this also: It is my \nduty to my party to help to defeat it. For, in the \nlong run, if free government is to continue to exist, \ntriumph in wrong will bring death to any party. \nBut this much, at least, is clear: A Christian citizen \ncannot desire the success of his party when success \nmeans the inauguration of vicious measures or the \npromotion of corrupt men; for a Christian man \ncan no more rejoice in "triumphant iniquity" than \nhe can be " a partaker of other men\'s sins." \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n161 \n\n\n\nNothing can be better for the politics of a coun- \ntry, in which two parties of nearly equal strength \ncontend for mastery, than a number of courageous \nand conscientious men, sufficient to hold the balance \nof power, of w^hom it is known that their allegiance \nto righteousness is stronger than their allegiance to \nparty \xe2\x80\x94 men who can be depended on to vote with \nstrict conscientiousness, and who cannot be depended \non to vote with any party when it favors either men \nor measures that are unfriendly to the virtue and \nbest interests of the whole people. Such men may \nbe sneered at as " bolters," but it will be a glorious \nday for the country when there shall be a body of \n" bolters/\' whom no party can buy, large enough to \nvote down the " floaters," whom any party can buy. \nIn many elections these purchasable " floaters " now \nhold the balance of power; for their sake it is judged \nnecessary to nominate rich men, or men who can \ncommand money, when important elections are to \nbe held. There are enough good men, unpurchasa- \nble men, in the country, who do not vote, to wrest \nfrom the vile hands of the easily-bought " floaters " \nthe determining power in our elections. \n\nThere need be no formal organization of such \nmen. If the Christian citizens of this country will \nbut boldly assert their rights of conscience in the \nexercise of their right of suffrage, we shall soon see \nthe last of nominating conventions that put bad \nmen forward on the plea of " availability," or advo- \ncate measures that are essentially wrong because \nthey happen to please the unthinking multitude for \n\nthe hour; for bad men would no longer be availa- \n11 \n\n\n\n1G2 The Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nble. If what our political teachers tell us is true, \nthey should heartily indorse these views. For do \nthey not tell us always, and in all ways, and with \nmuch fervor of patriotic eloquence, that the citizen \nis a " sovereign?" I only apply this wholesome \ndoctrine \xe2\x80\x94 a doctrine taught, we are told, in the \n" Declaration of Independence." Let this " sover- \neign citizen " stand forth, crowned and scepterecl, \nfor the vindication and maintenance of his sover- \neigntj 7 . This means, if it means any thing, that he \nmust vote as his own judgment dictates, and his own \nconscience commands. \n\nAbove and before all things, we need in our poli- \ntics not new parties, but clear-thinking, conscien- \ntious, God-fearing men in the old parties, who pre* \nfer defeated right to triumphant wrong. There are \nenough good men in both the great parties to regen- \nerate them both \xe2\x80\x94 if they will only dare to do what \nthey\'conscientiously believe to be right. In passing \nfrom this point, I wish to say, with emphasis, A \nChristian citizen cannot be a conscious and will- \ning party to placing corrupt men in office. \n\n2. Let us consider the Christian citizen as a candi- \ndate for office j and a holder of office. \n\n(1) There is no office, from the humblest to the \nloftiest, that would not be better filled by a Chris- \ntian citizen than by a corrupt citizen. "No man is \nfarther than I am from advising or desiring that \nthe Churches, as such, should nominate candidates, \nand seek, through the machinery of ecclesiastical \norganization, to carry elections. A Methodist can- \ndidate, put forward by a Methodist Conference; a \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n103 \n\n\n\nBaptist, put forward by the Convention; a Presby- \nterian, by Synod or Assembly, I hope never to see. \nAnd I do not expect ever to behold a sight so un- \nseemly. Nevertheless, I do not hesitate to say, I \nbelieve that Christian men, as a class, are fitter to \nhold office than are wicked men, as a class. If this \nbe treason of any sort, there is no help for it. \n\nI understand the sneers that nowadays are not \nuncommon about "Christian statesmen,\'\' and what \nuse those who give currency to these sneers make \nof any instance of inconsistency that the public or \nprivate life of some professor of religion reveals; I \nam not forgetful that it is possible that before now \nsome have " stolen the livery of heaven to serve the \ndevil in." But as no man rejects good gold because \nthere are occasional counterfeits, so no man of sense \nwill lay to the charge of Christianity the faults of \ncertain pretenders w T ho have professed it for the \nsake of the favors of its true disciples. \n\nThe alternative is not, as some seem to suppose, \nputting a weak and ignorant Christian in office, or \na strong and capable sinner. I know that goodness \nalone is not a qualification for office. But surely \nthere is no reason, appreciable by common sense, \nfor believing that the law-making and governing \ntalent of the country is confined to outbreaking \nsinners. I cannot see that the habit of liquor- \ndrinking gives greater clearness of judgment in de- \nvising or interpreting laws, or that it imparts firm- \nness of grasp to any of the executive departments \nof government. I do not see that the habit of pro- \nfane swearing, that any other form of vice, adds \n\n\n\n164 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nany thing to a citizen\'s qualification for office. \nThere is as little reason for believing that being \ntruly religious in anywise disqualifies a man for the \nduties and responsibilities of office-holding. Speak- \ning in a general way, I am justified by all our his- \ntory in saying, It is better to have Christian men in \noffice; for there is equal probability of their capacity, \nand greater probability of their integrity. \n\nThese considerations lead me to say that very \noften the Christian citizen fails of his duty by de- \nclining to be a candidate. He says, very sincerely, \n"I do not want the office." True enough; but it \nmay be his duty to hold it. It is tolerably well \nunderstood among us that desire for office is no \nproof of qualifications for its duties. For the most \npart, the men who do not want office are the men \nthat the country needs in office. Very great eager- \nness rather argues unfitness for the responsibilities \nof power. \n\nAs things are now \xe2\x80\x94 as campaigns are now con- \nducted \xe2\x80\x94 I can w T ell understand how a Christian citi- \nzen may shrink with horror and disgust from going \ndown into the arena. Nevertheless, it is the duty \nof Christian citizens to make sacrifices for the sake \nof good government. Frequently we condemn a \ntown or city for having weak or bad men in author- \nity, when we ought rather to condemn certain Chris- \ntian men who refused to do their duty when they \nwere called for. But supposing that our Christian \ncitizen has entered upon the race, I wish to mention \nsome things that he will not do, and that he cannot \ndo, without breaking with Christ the Lord. \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n165 \n\n\n\nHe will not lie upon his opponent. He will not \nseek victory by slander. He will not " fight the \ndevil with fire " \xe2\x80\x94 as the phrase is \xe2\x80\x94 answering lies \nwith lies. He prefers defeat. But if he should \nsink so low, true Christian citizens should vote \nagainst him. Campaigns of calumny should cease. \n\nThe Christian candidate who is true to his pro- \nfession will employ neither intimidation nor bribes. \nHe will neither force nor buy his way to power. \nHe will not sell his prospective official influence to \nunfit men for the sake of their influence. He will \nnot use that hire and price of fools \xe2\x80\x94 whisky-treats. \nBut if he should do these ignoble things, let honor- \nable men vote him down. He is " weighed in the \nbalances, and found wanting." But some man may \nsay: " That sort of thing will do to talk, but it \nwon\'t work; elections cannot be carried on that \nline." I answer: You are mistaken; they can be, \nand they will be, carried on this high line that day \nthe Christian men of this country wake up to a \nright sense of their high calling as citizens. The \nChristian men of Atlanta, of Georgia, of the United \nStates, can carry any election \xe2\x80\x94 and without corrup- \ntion \xe2\x80\x94 they determine to carry. These men do not \nwish to form a political party, but some day they \nwill say to the parties with which they vote: " See \nhere: we will have no more calumnies, no more \nlies, no more corruption-fund, no more drunkard- \nmaking." \n\nIf I am still told that elections can only be carried \nby vile methods, I answer, Then dig the grave of \nfree institutions. \n\n\n\n166 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n(2) The Christian citizen who is placed in office will \nendeavor to discharge his duties as God\'s represent- \native in that office. It will be his prayer and study \nto so "bear the sword" that it will be a "terror" \nonly to "evil-doers/ 7 and always "a praise" "to \nthem that do well." O how we need, in the official \nmind of these times, that grand conception of office \nthat appears in the Psalms of David! The true ruler \nw^as as a " shepherd " to his people. How our high \nrulers need to know that their offices were not \ncreated for them, or for their party friends, but for \nthe benefit of all the people! it is a shameful and \nshocking thing to see a man in high office conduct \nits affairs as if he were the enemy of those who did \nnot help to elect him, rather than the servant of the \nwhole people! How infinitely this partisan system \nof government falls below the maxim of our Lord: \n" Whosoever of you will be the chiefest, shall be \nservant of all!" No man can do his whole duty to \nthe people w r ho conducts government \xe2\x80\x94 whether \nnational, State, or municipal \xe2\x80\x94 on the "spoils" sys- \ntem. For banditti and pirates it is the only possi- \nble system; for statesmen, patriots, and rulers, it is \nthe wwst system possible. \n\nIf the Christian citizen in office has the manage- \nment of the people\'s money, he will discharge his \ntrust faithfully. He will take care of the people\'s \nmoney more carefully than if it were his own. If \nhe makes contracts for the State, he will do it hon- \nestly. So far as the State\'s money is concerned, he \nwill be " content with his wages." The State\'s \nmoney will not " stick to his fingers." When pub- \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n167 \n\n\n\nlie officers, without other legitimate income, grow \nrich on small salaries, we have more than hard co- \nnundrums to solve; there are crimes to unravel and \npunish. \n\nOne other word here: The true " civil service re- \nform," of which we hear so much, and see so little, \nwill be mightily helped forward when good men \nand women scorn, as they ought to scorn, public \nthieves. And when a thief of the public money is \nset to breaking rock in the chain-gang, or to hard \nlabor in the penitentiary for his crimes, it will be a \nlesson that will nearly educate a generation. \n\n3. Let us now consider the Christian citizen as a \ntax-payer. \n\nGovernment cannot be carried on without money, \nand a great deal of money. Those who enjoy the \nprotection of government should pay for it in some \nway. It may be through a tariff, an income-tax, a \npoll-tax, a general tax on all kinds of property. \nNow, a Christian citizen may seek, by all right \nmeans, to change existing tax-laws, but he cannot \navoid the payment of his equitable share of the tax \nwithout compromising his character as an honest \nman, and shaming his profession of the Christian \nreligion. Forever stands the answer of our Lord \nto certain Jews who would as gladly have escaped \nthe Eoman tax as involved Jesus himself with the \nRoman authorities: " Render unto Caesar the things \nwhich are Caesar\'s." \n\nThe gospel teaches justice and equity in our deal- \nings with each other. The citizen who dodges the \npayment of his share of the taxes violates the spirit \n\n\n\n1G8 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nof Christianity. Such conduct, it cannot for one \nmoment be doubted, is a sin in the sight of God. \nLet a single illustration show how the non-tax-pay- \ning citizen wrongs his fellow-citizens. A certain \namount of money, let us suppose, must be raised in \na certain city. He who answers falsely as to his \nproperty, and appears on the tax-lists as worth only \n\xc2\xa710,000, when, in reality, he is worth $50,000, pays \njust four-fifths less than he ought to pay, and by so \nmuch robs his fellow-citizens, who have to make up \nthe difference by paying a higher rate than they \nought to pay. I can think of but one case in which \nthis statement would not hold good: if all tax-pay- \ners should make false returns, they would be equally \nguilty of an effort to defraud the Government at the \nsupposed expense of each other, and all alike unsuc- \ncessful, in that the higher rate necessary would de- \nfeat them all. But such a case never happens, and \nit comes to pass that no man willfully makes false \nreturns without seeking to rob the State and act- \nually robbing his neighbors; \n\nOfficials, who have had much to do with these \nmatters, tell me there is a great deal of sharp prac- \ntice against the State by property-owners, whereby, \nin one way and another, they manage to pay much \nless than they ought to pay. This is a sin against \nGod and men; it unfits people for the kingdom of \nheaven. \n\nThere are many loose notions in many minds on \nthis whole subject \xe2\x80\x94 notions, let us hope in charity, \nthat are held in ignorance, or want of attention to \ntheir absurdity and iniquity. Many think it not \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n169 \n\n\n\nwrong to cheat the Government, unless they are \nfound out. They hold by the old Spartan theory, \nthat the wrong of stealing exists only in detection. \nIf the custom-house officers, to mention an instance, \ncan be evaded or bribed, and so money can be saved \nthat ought to go to the Government, there are hun- \ndreds who chuckle over their knavish achievement \nas if it were so creditable to their shrewdness as to \ncondone their immorality. Does any man among \nus, who is at all informed upon the subject, doubt \nwhether there are multitudes in our own State (and \nit is fair to suppose we are not more guilty than \nothers), who systematically and intentionally cheat \nthe treasury of a part, at least, of what they ought \nto pay, every year? Does any man who is informed \ndoubt whether the general Government is defrauded \nof millions, year by year, by those who pay less \nthan they ought to pay? who not only clo a great \nwrong themselves, but actually tempt and aid reve- \nnue officers and the customs-collectors in appropri- \nating vast sums of the people\'s money? \n\nWherein is it less criminal to cheat the State than \nto cheat individuals? Nay, citizens cannot cheat \nthe State without cheating individuals also, for, as \neverybody knows who thinks at all, those who pay \nhonestly have to make up what is lacking through \nthe deficits of those who pay dishonestly. My \nbrethren, we do indeed want "ethical revivals" \xe2\x80\x94 \nrevivals of good morals, revivals that quicken the \nconsciences of men, not only as to tax-paying, but \nas to justice and righteousness in all our dealings \nwith our fellow-men. \n\n\n\n170 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen* \n\n\n\n4. Let us briefly consider the Christian citizen in \nhis relation to the administration of law. \n\n(1) The Christian citizen should be a pattern of \nobedience to law. If it be only a law against " driv- \ning faster than a walk" over a bridge, his conscience \nsays, " Respect it \xe2\x80\x94 it is law!" No man can violate \nany right law with impunity. It may be, in itself, \na very small thing, as the instance given, or a city \nordinance forbidding the use of fire-works in certain \nplaces, or the trampling of grass in a city park; but \nit is law, and in nearly every such case it is founded \non good sense and moral right. But even a frivo- \nlous and foolish law, that does not contravene rights \nof conscience, should be observed \xe2\x80\x94 because it is law. \nGet it changed if you wish, or can; but while it is \nlaw, obey it. \n\nTake a more serious case \xe2\x80\x94 the carrying of con- \ncealed weapons. The law forbids it. If there were \nno other reasons against the practice \xe2\x80\x94 and there are \nmany and strong reasons \xe2\x80\x94 and the law were never \nenforced, as it ought to be in every case, the law \nshould be observed, and will be observed, by all who \nhave right views and good consciences. The Chris- \ntian citizen will obey law as law, and for the sake \nof law. \n\n(2) If the Christian citizen have children, and do \nhis duty to God and to man, he will not only obey \nlaw, but he will teach his children to do it. It is a \nrare thing that men are arraigned before the courts \nfor the violation of law who have been faithfully \ntaught obedience to law in childhood. It may be \nremarked at this place \xe2\x80\x94 a whole discourse would \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n171 \n\n\n\nnot suffice for its full statement \xe2\x80\x94 that in wise and \nscriptural parental government rests the hope of all \ntrue and lasting reforms. Children who have thor- \noughly learned obedience to parents very rarely \nviolate the laws of the State. Moreover, if domes- \ntic government be lacking in the bringing up of \nchildren, they can find afterward no substitute for \nits saving culture. We must learn obedience at \nhome \xe2\x80\x94 it is but imperfectly learned in any other \nschool. \n\nIt cannot be doubted by any who have studied \nthe genesis and progress of crime, that the disposi- \ntion to violate laws, the most sacred and important, \nis fostered and aggravated by the habit, formed \nperhaps in early childhood, of violating laws that \nwere thought to be of small consequence. When a \nboy drives over a bridge in a rapid trot, when he \nsees the warning of the law, and also sees that he \nis not in danger of detection, or knows that the \nstatute will not be enforced against him, he has \ndone a thing that may indeed amuse him with its \nspice of adventure, but a thing that introduces into \nhis heart and life an evil principle and spirit of \ndisobedience that may some day bring him to the \nfelon\'s cell, or to the gallows. \n\nBut I cannot enlarge here. Meditate on these \nthings, and secure your children against the penal- \nties of violated law by inculcating the principle \nand practice of obedience to all law. And medi- \ntate also on the relations between such habits of \nobedience early formed and religion and salvation. \n\n(3) The Christian citizen should do all he can to \n\n\n\n172 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\ndevelop and strengthen a right public opinion and \nsentiment on the subject, not only of obedience to \nlaw, but also of the enforcement of law. \n\nThe relation of public opinion to the enforcement \nof law is not sufficiently understood. This relation \nis almost vital. Outside of military law, or some \nsystem equivalent to it, it is next to impossible to \nenforce a law that is not sustained by public senti- \nment. In courts that come from the people, it is \nimpossible to escape the contagion, or to resist alto- \ngether the pressure, of a pronounced public opinion. \nIf the court were so constituted as to be entirely \ninsulated from the currents of public sentiment \xe2\x80\x94 as, \nfor instance, if the judge, jury, and solicitor, should \nbe from abroad \xe2\x80\x94 strangers imported for a given oc- \ncasion \xe2\x80\x94 it might, indeed, be easier to procure con- \nviction. (Even in the case supposed we should find \nthe insulation imperfect.) But the educating power \nof a trial and conviction in a court so organized \nwould be incomparably less than if the same case \nwere conducted to conviction and punishment by a \nhome-court. There was no true educative value in \nthe trials conducted by such a despot as Jeffreys, \nwho cared little or nothing for the opinions of com- \nmunities where he held his court " organized to \nconvict." His sentences only inspired terror for \nthe time, and begot only hatred afterward. They \nfostered no sentiment of justice, no sense of obliga- \ntion to obey law and respect authority ; they did \nnot " commend themselves to every man\'s conscience \nin the sight of God." His executions were barba- \nrous spectacles that only gratified the brute instincts \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n173 \n\n\n\nthat lurk in the feelings of the mob; they did not \nmanifest the sacredness and majesty of law; there \nwas in them no reminder of the awful holiness that \nawed the multitudes that waited before Sinai when \nMoses talked with God. \n\n! To set forth more clearly what I mean, let us \nsuppose a trial in the city of Atlanta, in a case of \nmurder. It is conducted, we will suppose, by a \nmilitary court, such as we knew at the close of the \nwar. The accused is convicted, and justly, as every- \nbody knows. Suppose now the same case tried \nbefore your circuit judge ; that it is prosecuted by \nyour own solicitor; that the jury is made up of \ncitizens of Fulton County. It is too obvious to \nneed an argument, that the impression made upon \nthe community by such a trial is far greater for \ngood, far greater as an educating influence, than in \nthe trial conducted by the court from without. The \none is a verdict, we may say, by the community, \nspeaking through its own court; the other is a ver- \ndict by a court of w^hich little is known except its \npower. \n\nAn illustration may be given upon a large scale. \nAs an educating power, the Federal court that tries \noffenders against the revenue laws of the United \nStates is not to be compared with our State courts, \nthrough which each community expresses its judg- \nment and conscience. I do not attack, in the least, \nthe United States Courts (I know how necessary \nthey are, and I believe they have been conducted \nwith fairness and ability) when I express the opin- \nion that one conviction for illicit distilling* by a \n\n\n\n174 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nhome-court would do more to educate any sfiven \ncommunity in right views upon the subject than \nwould a dozen convictions bv the United States \ncourt, made up of strangers, it may be, and sitting \nat points remote from the scene of the offenses. I \nknow it may be said in answer, " Conviction can- \nnot be had in a court whose juries are composed \nof the neighbors of the accused distillers/\' Allow \nthat this is true, it only proves and illustrates \nwhat I wish to bring to your attention \xe2\x80\x94 the rela- \ntion of a strong public opinion to the enforcement \nof law. \n\nOther illustrations may be given. Why is it \neasier to prosecute a common murderer to convic- \ntion than the man who has slain his enemv in a \n\nj \n\nduel? Public opinion makes the difference. It is \nsaid that only one duel has been fought in the State \nof Illinois. The survivor was hanged \xe2\x80\x94 there have \nbeen no more duels. Public opinion, had he gone \nunpunished, would have been educated the wrong \nway. \n\nWe have laws against all forms of theft. Con- \nviction is easy \xe2\x80\x94 public opinion makes it so. We \nhave laws against murder. Convictions that issue \nin capital punishment are rare, because public opin- \nion hesitates in sight of the gallows. We have \nlaws against the carrying of concealed weapons. \nThey are, comparatively speaking, rarely enforced. \nWhy ? Because public opinion, on this subject, \nis as yet only a feeble sentiment. We have laws \nagainst selling liquors to minors. They are rarely \nenforced. Public opinion is too crude and feeble to \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n175 \n\n\n\nmake conviction easy. We have laws against brib- \nery at elections. They are rarely if ever enforced, \nbecause public 3pinion is below the standard of the \nlaw. \n\nScores of illustrations might be given, but they \nare unnecessary. It has now come to be an accept- \ned maxim, " You cannot enforce a law that is far in \nadvance of public opinion." Must we then bring \nour laws down to the lower standard? Never. \nRather let us, by all means possible, raise the stand- \nard of public opinion. I was deeply impressed \nsome years ago by the remark of one of the strong- \nest of our judges \xe2\x80\x94 a man who is not afraid to do \nhis duty. Some one had written an article, setting \nforth in vigorous language the importance and duty \nof sustaining our courts by a sound and pronounced \npublic sentiment. Said this distinguished judge, \n"You cannot tell how such expressions strengthen \nme. The courts do need the support of public \nopinion." \n\nMay I remind you of a passage in the history of \nAtlanta, soon after the civil authority was reestab- \nlished? How much easier than it was ought to \nhave been the task of the brave man who presided \nin your Superior Court in this county, when, in \nGod\'s fear, he bore so grand and heroic a part in \n% the work of saving this city from the dominion of \nthe mob ! Very great was the educating power of \nthat court in your city. Its decisions helped to \nclear your moral atmosphere of suffocating clouds \nof vice. And as the sentiment of the better people \nof Atlanta rallied about that court and its cour- \n\n\n\n176 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nageous judge, its power for good was multiplied a \nhundred-fold. \n\nThere are many ways by which a right public \nsentiment may be fostered. I cannot even mention \nthem all. Some of the more effective I may point \nout. Let good citizens do their duty as jurors \nwhen the time comes. When a court is shut up to \ntenth-rate men for jurors, it indicates a low senti- \nment in the community as to the dignity and im- \nportance of the administration of law. \n\nHow little most people esteem the dignity and \nimportance of our grand -juries! What noble \n" charges " are often delivered to them by our \nlearned judges! How often the grand inquest \nresults in findings that are unworthy of the charge \ndelivered by the courts! When our grand-jurors \nrealize both the solemnity of their oaths, and the \ngreatness both of their opportunity and their re- \nsponsibility, the power of our courts for good will \nbe tenfold increased. (And the same principles \nshould determine the verdict of the traverse-juries \nwhen they are determining the merits of any case \nthat is brought before them.) And here let it be \nsaid, Citizens should cooperate with our grand- \njuries to purge the land of crime. The rightly- \ndespised " sycophant" of the Roman courts was \nthe base fellow who informed on his neighbors for \npay, and who, in greed of gain, invented calumnies \nwhere crimes did not exist. But the citizen who \ngives to grand-juries information they need, not for \nrewards or revenge, but from love of righteousness, \nis not a sycophant, or professional informer. It is \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n177 \n\n\n\nsometimes a high patriotic duty to give informa- \ntion. \n\nLet good citizens, by word and deed, show all due \nhonor to magistrates and rulers, of high and low \ndegree. It is not an accidental or merely arbitrary \nthing that the Scriptures forbid us to speak evil of \nmagistrates and of the rulers of the people. This \nsort of evil-speaking is a common vice. It is un- \nspeakably harmful. To speak contemptuously of \nour laws, of our courts, of our rulers, is to make a \nvicious and ignorant assault upon the very citadel \nof public and private morality. Let good citizens \nconfirm and establish, by hearty approbation, the \nrighteousness of all right decisions of the courts, \nand of our rulers. Where they must criticise \xe2\x80\x94 and \nit is the right, and sometimes the duty, of citizens \nto criticise \xe2\x80\x94 let them show their fitness for criticism \nby at least showing a becoming respect both for \nthe law and its officers. \n\nThe press can do much in fostering such opinions \nand sentiments as will strengthen the hands of our \nlaw-officers, and all our rulers, for their great and \ndifficult work. Alas! that so many newspapers \nabuse their liberty \xe2\x80\x94 that they so often use their \ngreat influence to destroy among the people right \nsentiments as to law and authority. \n\nThe pulpit has a high duty to perform to the \npeople. It can, I think, do as much as the press \ncan do \xe2\x80\x94 possibly more. It is not a Pauline concep- \ntion of its functions and ministry that would forbid \nit such discussions. \n\nThe school-teacher has a grave duty here. In \n12 \n\n\n\n178 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nthe school-room should be taught the great lessons \nof law and order, of authority and obedience, of gov- \nernment and submission. \n\nBut, as intimated in another place, it is in the \nfamily that the greatest work may be done. If \nparents will teach their children the meaning of \nlaw and government, and the sacred duty of obedi- \nence \xe2\x80\x94 above all, if they will add to wise precepts \ngood examples, we shall, after awhile, have a public \nopinion that will enable our courts to perform to \nthe full their divinely-bestowed and all-important \npowers and functions. ISTor would the life-giving \ninfluence of a pure public sentiment be confined to \nour courts of law. There is no officer of govern- \nment, of any grade, who would not feel the ground \nfirmer under him, and his heart stronger in him, \nfor the faithful performance of every duty. \n\nSo great and noble a problem w x as never given to \nany nation as to ours. We are now fifty million; \npresently we shall be one hundred million; some- \ntime; it is not improbable, we shall be five hundred \nmillion. We need not fail because ancient republics \nhave failed; they lacked the saving, inspiring, life- \ngiving, and sanctifying influence of the Christian \nreligion. Let us bear in mind, these millions of \nmen are not simply human beings to be counted by \ncensus-takers; they are not simply subjects; they \nare citizens \xe2\x80\x94 free citizens \xe2\x80\x94 armed with that thun- \nderbolt of political power, the ballot. It is their \nproblem: these free citizens will make or mar the \nfortunes of their country. In no country, in any age, \nwas there ever so much to hope for, or ever so much \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n179 \n\n\n\nto fear. If these citizens are wise and good, we shall \nhave a country and a civilization never matched in \nhuman history. If they are foolish, if they are un- \nfaithful, if they are corrupt, we shall work out a \ntragedy \xe2\x80\x94 the saddest the world ever saw. \n\nI am not dreaming of some Utopian scheme of a \nbettered world. I have not said more of the Chris- \ntian citizen than his country has a right to expect \nof him. Nay; I have said no more than some \nChristian citizens are, than all ought to be, than all \nmight be. \n\nI have not been theorizing in this discourse; it is \nof things practical, and intensely practical, that I \nhave spoken. It is of blessed realities that I hope \nto see in larger and ever larger measure. I rejoice \nto believe that Christian people are waking up to \nthese things \xe2\x80\x94 that they begin to meditate more and \nmore upon their responsibilities and duties as citi- \nzens. When they are fully awake, they will redeem \ntheir country from its political evils. \n\nLet us see: What has been advanced in this dis- \ncourse concerning the Christian citizen? That he \nshould realize his personal responsibility as a citizen, \nand that to discharge it, he must be free; that he \nshould vote in all elections, and that to vote as be- \ncomes him, he should vote on his judgment and his \nconscience; that as a candidate, he will bear himself \nas an honorable and honest man; that as an office- \nbearer, he will be faithful to his trust, as one who \nmust give an account to God; that as a tax-payer, \nhe will neither defraud the Government nor rob his \nfellow-citizens; that as a member of the community, \n\n\n\n180 \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\nhe will support, both by precept and example, the \nlaws and government of his country. And is \nthis too much to ask of a Christian citizen? Let \nevery man answer in his own heart and upon his \nconscience. If the doctrines of this discourse do \nnot commend themselves to your reason and your \nconscience, reject them as candidly as they are pro- \nposed to you; if they do so commend themselves, \nact upon them and live by them. \n\xe2\x80\xa2 ]STo doubt there is much sin among our people, as \nthere is much corruption in our politics. There are \nmany great and sore evils in our political and social \nsystem that wise men dread and good men deplore. \nBut there is no occasion or reason for despair. The \ncontrolling influences of our country are still Chris- \ntian. Christian principle still underlies the founda- \ntions of our social and civil structure, and Christian \nsentiment still leavens our laws and our institutions. \nBut the Christian people of this country have not \nmade themselves felt in the government of the \ncountry as they might and ought to have done. \nNone are more interested in the Government; none \npay more to support it; none are more competent \nto manage its affairs; none have greater claim upon \nthe confidence of their fellow-citizens. \n\nWhen such things are said, there are not wanting \na class of small demagogues who cry out, in feigned \nalarm, about the " Union of Church and State. " \nThere is no danger whatever of such a union in \nthis country and this age. Nobody seeks it; no- \nbody desires it. The tendency of the times is all \nthe other way. In what I have said to you, I have \n\n\n\nThe Christian Citizen. \n\n\n\n181 \n\n\n\nnot come within a thousand leagues of advocating \nsuch a union. But I do plead for a union of relig- \nious principle and political principle. I do plead \nthat in using this world, whether in business or \npolitics, we may not abuse it, and that we may use \nit religiously. I do plead that the Christian relig- \nion is the foundation and soul of our civilization. \nI do plead that a Christian man, who would do his \nduty, ought and must carry his religion into his \ncitizenship. I do plead that if religion should lead \na man to give full weights in buying and selling; if \nit should lead him to be honest in his ordinary busi- \nness dealings with his fellow-men, it should lead \nhim to be honest in his dealings with Government. \nI do plead that a Christian citizen should vote, and \nseek office, and hold officej and pay tax, and support \nlaw, as a Christian. I do plead that the claim which \nChrist our Lord makes upon the citizen is above \nand beyond all other claims. I do plead that the \ncitizen who is loyal to Christ his King will vote, \nand acquire office, and exercise power, and pay tax, \nand support law and government, as unto the Lord. \n\nIf all should so live \xe2\x80\x94 if the majority should so \nlive \xe2\x80\x94 we would usher in the millennium of civiliza- \ntion. \n\n\n\nGARFIELD\'S MEMORY. \n\n\n\nTHE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE DEAD PRESI- \nDENT AS AN INCENTIVE TO THE YOUNG \nMEN OF THE NATION \n\n[BEFORE THE STUDENTS OF EMORY COLLEGE, ON THE SUNDAY \nAFTER OPENING-DAY, OCTOBER 5, 1881.] \n\n\n\n"He being dead yet speaketh." Hebrews xi. 4. \n\nAMAZsT must do his work while he lives; if he \nhas lived well, his best influence comes after \nhe is dead. This is one compensation the world \nhas in the death of its best men \xe2\x80\x94 " their good lives \nafter them." To this day Abel preaches the doc- \ntrine of obedience and the gospel of faith. \n\nAs we use language, it is proper to say that James \nA. Garfield, late President of the United States, is \ndead. But in every sense that is truest and most \nimportant, he lives; and "he being dead yet speak- \neth." Before speaking of him to you, my pupils, \nand of some of the lessons taught by his life and \ndeath, there are some facts of great and general \ninterest that deserve recall. \n\nFirst, the fact of the world\'s interest in this man. \nDuring the long period of his sufferings, the state- \nment of his case, its symptoms, treatment, and pos- \nsible issue, morning after morning, interested more \npeople than any other subject of private or public \nfl\xc2\xab6 \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\n183 \n\n\n\nconcern. Every newspaper in the world published \nthe bulletins issued by his physicians. More has \nbeen printed, read, said, and thought than was ever \nwritten, read, said, or thought during the same \nperiod of time concerning any other ruler of any \nnation in any time. Napoleon did never, during \nany eleven weeks of his extraordinary career, com- \nmand so much of the world\'s attention. \n\nThe possibility of the concentration of the world\'s \ninterest upon one man is illustrative of the progress \nof the arts and inventions of our time. It was \nnever possible before. When President Harrison \ndied, it was six weeks before the fact was known in \nevery county east of the Mississippi River. Steam \nand electricity bring all nations nearer to each other \nthan imagination conceived to be possible a century \nago. The news from the illustrious sufferer\'s cham- \nber outran the sun in his course through the heav- \nens. In every city and large town in the civilized \nworld, tidings from President Garfield\'s sick-bed \nwere read and discussed before breakfast. \n\nSuch facts are worthy of consideration by thought- \nful people. ~We talk of the wonders of former \ntimes, but these are the wonderful times. We \nshould thank Gocl that we live in such an age. But \nwe should speak of these things with humility; \nthere is every reason to believe that another gen- \neration will so far outstrip us that we will be es- \nteemed slow in our movements and meager in our \nplans. Yet it is a fearful thing to live in such an \nage. Alas that we do not realize our responsibili- \nties! that we know not the lamrua^e of God\'s \n\n\n\n184 \n\n\n\ni \n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\nprovidence in our own history! that we read so im- \nperfectly the signs of these times! \n\nBut of more importance than the swift transmis- \nsion of intelligence is the deep and heart-felt inter- \nest the President\'s case excited in all civilized and \nChristian countries. The remark need not be qual- \nified by such adjectives, for messages of respectful \ncondolence came from Mohammedan countries, and \nalso from heathen China and Japan. It is idle to \nsneer and say this w^as the language of mere diplo- \nmacy. It was the language of human nature ex- \npressing its sympathy for a sufferer and its interest \nin a brother-man, exalted by the circumstances of \nhis position and the nobleness of his character into \nan object of universal interest. \n\nWhile he lingered in suffering, and the continu- \nance of his life inspired a hope of his recovery, de- \nvout souls were praying for him in almost every \nnation. In our own country I do not believe there \nwas one Christian man, woman, or child who did \nnot pray the good God to spare his life. In En- \ngland, and on the continent of Europe, in all lan- \nguages, Christian people joined in our supplications. \nProtestants and Romanists prayed for him; so did \nMohammedans and Jews. And thousands who had \nno personal faith said "Amen" to the universal \nprayer. \n\nWas there ever so impressive a ceremonial as the \nfuneral of our martyred President? Would it be \nexaggeration to say that fifty thousand bells were \ntolling the day they buried him? And many bells \nwere tolling beyond the sea at the hour fifty mill- \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\n185 \n\n\n\nions of people in our own land paused in their toils \nto lay him to his rest. The Queen of England sent \nfloral tributes for his bier, and in her court were \nworn the badges of mourning. These facts will be \nremembered among the marvelous things of his- \ntory. They illustrate in reality what we teach in \ntheory \xe2\x80\x94 the brotherhood of the human race. \n\nIn our own country, millions of prayers were \noffered that God would spare to the nation the life \nof the man whom every decent man respected and \nevery true man was learning to love. These prayers \nwere more remarkable for their intense earnestness \nthan even for their number. \n\nIn the calm review of these months of anxious \nsupplication, I am constrained to believe that for the \nmost part our prayers were sadly, fatally defective \nin one essential respect \xe2\x80\x94 confession. There is a \nsense in which the blood of this man is upon us all. \nIf we do not repent, it will be upon our children \nalso. It is as cruel as it is false to charge his death \nupon any party, or upon any section of any party, \nso far as purpose, or plan, or approval is concerned. \nBut this I do believe: the shot of the altogether \naccountable madman who struck him down was but \nthe final expression of the rancorous hates that have \ndisgraced and dishonored our politics for at least \nthree decades of bitter years. \n\nOnly consider, during the life-time of one gener- \nation the two leading sections of this country have \nbeen arrayed against each other as if they were nat- \nural enemies. It had almost come to pass that a \nNorthern man was suspected as untru^ to his sec- \n\n\n\n186 \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\ntion if he did not denounce "the South;" that a \nSouthern man\'s loyalty to his own people was ques- \ntioned if he did not denounce "the North." We \nhad nearly eliminated all geographical significance \nfrom the phrases " the North" and "the South." \nWhere national issues have entered into our politics, \nDemocrats have cursed Republicans, and Repub- \nlicans have cursed Democrats. There is perhaps \nnothing in the history of any people that contains \nso much unmitigated hate and prejudice as the lit- \nerature of American politics for a generation past. \nWhat I say needs no elaborate proof. All political \nand many religious papers have burned it into our \neyes; nearly every political speech has poured it \ninto our ears. Language suffered barbarous tortures \nthat men might satisfy their passion for abuse and \ndenunciation. Worse than all this, the language \nof abuse was heard in many pulpits, and bitter \nspeech entered into the language of social inter- \ncourse. It has been heard wherever men exchanged \ntheir notions, or gave vent to their prejudices. It \nhad become a national vice from which no section, no \nparty, no classes were free. But I will not dwell upon \nthe revolting theme \xe2\x80\x94 you understand it too well. \n\nIs there one man or woman in the United States, \nof sufficient intelligence to take interest in public \naffairs and to discuss them, who has not during the \nlast twenty years used language concerning political \nopponents that pure truth did not justify \xe2\x80\x94 language \nthat had its inspiration more or less in sinful preju- \ndices and hatreds that violated and shamed the first \nprinciples of the gospel of the Son of God? If there \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\n187 \n\n\n\nis one such man or woman, it would be worth a \npilgrimage to look upon so fair and lovely a soul. \nWould that I knew such a one! \n\nOne thing is certain: it is only during the last \nthree months that there has been an appreciable \nsubsidence of this fierce fever of party passion and \nhate. Alas that there are alarming symptoms of \nits return to the wasted body of our country ! But \nfor all this ocean-wide and ocean-deep sin of hatred \nand prejudice there has been most inadequate con- \nfession. Clamorous in our prayers we have been. \nBut if men\'s feelings are to be judged by their \nspeech, there have been few to say for themselves, \nas expressing a personal sense of guilt: "Deliver me \nfrom blood-guiltiness, God \xe2\x80\x94 against thee, and thee \nonly, have I sinned and done this evil in thy sight." \nIt may well be that our lack of confession and peni- \ntence explain the final denial of the prayers of a \nwhole nation upon its knees. For certain it is, the \nassassin\'s sin is, by so much as we have added to the \nbitterness and hatred of our politics, our sin. This \nday, I charge it upon you, my hearers, that you \nhave been guilty in that you have indulged bitter \nhatred and prejudices. This day, I confess with \n3hame before God that I have been guilty with you. \n\nBut abusive language has not been the worst \ncharacteristic of our politics during all these years; \nVying speech has been more than bitter speech. We \nhave practiced, as a people, the doctrine that any \nthing is to be employed that will help our party to \nwin. As, for example, the unscrupulous slander of \ncandidates for public office. Thus, to give recent \n\n\n\n188 \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\ninstances, Democrats, who knew it to be a forgery, \npublished a letter that Mr. Garfield never wrote; \nRepublicans, who knew what they said to be false, \naccused General Hancock of gross and habitual \ndrunkenness. \n\nAlong with bitter and lying speech, both parties \nhave used corrupt and fraudulent methods. Both \nparties have bribed and cheated, bought and sold. \nNeither has been free in its political methods from \nviolence and cheating. Ditring a visit to Jfew York \nlast spring, I read in the papers full reports of a \ndinner given at Delmonico\'s. At that dinner it was \nopenly boasted, by a man now threatened with prose- \ncution for defrauding the government (and the boast \nwas applauded to the echo), that a certain State was \ncarried in the election for President by " putting the \nmoney where it would do the most good." And \nDemocratic managers used money in the same way \n\xe2\x80\x94 when they could get it. \n\nWe may be sure of it, the assassin\'s shot is the \nfinal expression of the bitterness and prejudice of \nour politics and of the greed for office that amounts \nalmost to a national mania. Let us remember, it is \nas murderous to stab a reputation as a body; it is as \ndevilish to destroy a man\'s fame by slander as it is \nto take his life by shot, or steel, or poison. \n\nIt should be remembered in this connection that \nwhat is aptly called "the spoils system" \xe2\x80\x94 a phrase \nsuggestive of barbarism \xe2\x80\x94 of administering the affairs \nof the government is, of all things, the inspiration \nof the bitterness and the falseness of our political \ncampaigns. For it holds out to perhaps a million \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\n189 \n\n\n\nof men the hope of some office in the gift of the \ngovernment. \n\nI ask you, Were not the prayers of our people \nlacking in confession? \n\nAlthough our prayers lacked both confession and \nadequate penitence, it may be asked, Were they not \nanswered? \n\nThe infidel sneers, and some weak disciples feel a \nchill of doubt. Their syllogism runs thus: \n\nThere were never so many prayers offered by so \nmany people for any one thing; \n\nPresident Garfield died; \n\nTherefore, God does not hear prayer. \n\nA most foolish sort of argument this. It would \nbe as good logic and as sound sense to say: Millions \nof men have a certain notion upon a subject; God \ndoes not think of it as they do; therefore, God is \nnot wise. \n\nThat is not prayer in any sense, that God has \never promised to answer prayer that leaves out sub- \nmission to his will, \n\n"If it be possible, let this cup pass from me; \nnevertheless, not my will, but thy will be done," is \nthe formula that infolds the true significance, and \nexpresses the real essence and range of prayer. \n\nBut the prayers of God\'s people were answered \nin the case of the late President: 1. In him and in \nhis family. Great grace was given to them. They \nwere sustained beyond the power of human forti- \ntude or sympathy. 2. In the prolongation of his \nlife during nearly three months. This gave time \nfor his successor to be personally prepared for the \n\n\n\n190 \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\nduty that has now come upon him, as he could not \nhave been prepared had President Garfield died \nsoon after he was shot down. 3. During these \nmonths the country had time to prepare itself for a \nchange of administration. The prolongation of \nMr. Garfield\'s life saved us from the strain and \nwrench of a sudden change of government. 4. But \nthe most conspicuous and important blessing that \nhas come to us during this long period of suffering \nhas been in the hearts of the people themselves. It \nhas brought them together as they had not been \nbrought together in fifty years. It is easy to say \nthings will now go on in the old way; sectionalism \nand party bitterness will again assert themselves. \nIf it be so \xe2\x80\x94 which God in mercy forbid! \xe2\x80\x94 it is mat- \nter for speechless gratitude that for nearly three \nmonths there was rest from the torments of these \nevil spirits. I, for one, believe that there is more \ngenuine brotherhood and true national sentiment \nin the masses of the American people to-day than \nthere has been in the last half century. A fierce \nharangue would not now by many audiences be list- \nened to with patience; a bitter editorial would not, \nby right-minded people, be read at all As it seems \nto me, James A. Garfield has done, in the provi- \ndence of God on his sick-bed, more to heal the \nbleeding wounds of his country than all others \nhave done since the horrid war began. It was worth \ndying for to have done such a work. \n\nI have said the prayers of the people were an- \nswered. Consider this: that which was uppermost \nin the people\'s thoughts was not Mr. Garfield \xe2\x80\x94 al- \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\n191 \n\n\n\nthough they honored and loved him, and forgot his \npolitics \xe2\x80\x94 but their, country. They believed that he \nintended to be the President of the whole nation; \nthat his administration would tend to restore the \nlost brotherhood of our people. Hence they prayed \nGod to spare him to the country, that this blessing \nhe might bring to us. This he did, in large meas- \nure, on his sick-bed; this he does in his grave at \nCleveland, as he could not have done it in full health \nand power in the White House. Moreover, this \nfelicity is his: what he has done in the restoration \nof a true national spirit is done for all time. If we \nwill be so foolish and wicked, we may forget the \nlessons, but his work is done. No blunders can mar \nit. Happy are the dead who, while living, put in \nmotion a good impulse, or gave the world a saving \ntruth. Of a truth, such a man, " being dead, yet \nspeaketh." \n\nBut upon this first Sunday of the new college- \nyear, with nearly a hundred new faces before me, I \nmust speak of other aspects of this man\'s career. \n\n1. It was not and is not possible in any country \nin the world but ours. Young men, I have un- \nspeakable contempt for that class of persons who, \naffecting foreign airs, or indulging a vain conceit, \nsneer at the institutions of their country. A coun- \ntry .is worth loving and dying for in which such a \ncareer as Garfield\'s is possible. \n\n2. Consider what inspiration there is in his ex- \nample and character to young men, working and \nbattling without money or powerful friends. Let \nus recall some of the points in his life. A widow\'s \n\n\n\n192 \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\nson in poverty helping his mother; a laborer on a \nsmall farm; walking the tow-paths of a canal for \nwages many here would scorn \xe2\x80\x94 at last starting on \nfoot to college with ten dollars in his pocket, work- \ning, waiting, graduating with the honors of his class \nat the age of twenty-seven, an age at which many \ncount it a shame to be at school. Take heart, you \nbrave-hearted sons of poverty ! Many of you are \nhere, as many like you have been here before you, \nand have never been dishonored for their poverty. \n\n3. Let me inquire, What was there in him that \ncalled forth, during his suffering, such profound and \nuniversal sympathies? His office had something to \ndo with it; not its elevation simply, but the fact \nthat he was our President. \n\n4. Much more his personal character. There was \nin him that subtle something we call sentiment that \ntakes hold of honest people\'s hearts. Large-brained \nhe was, but he was not all brain ; he had a big warm \nheart in him. He was capable of generous emo- \ntions, and the people found this out. Men forgot \nthe splendid pageantry of his inauguration when \nthey saw him with his great honors fresh upon him \nturn to kiss his proud old mother, of whom he was \nnot ashamed in the Capitol, and to kiss his true wife \nwhom he had loved so well. Those meager souls \nthat cannot conceive of an honest act or of a gen- \nerous impulse sneer at such manifestations. I have \nseen a few w T ho could see nothing beautiful in this \nscene. Mean souls! Such a man would estimate \nthe value of his wife by balancing her work with \nher board. \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\n193 \n\n\n\n5. People believed that Mr. Garfield feared God, \nand that he was a Christian. They had glimpses \nnow and then of a pure home-life, where this man \nand his wife and children worshiped God. You \ncannot exaggerate this fact in estimating the popu- \nlar interest in him. Blackguards pooh-pooh such \nthings. So does the devil. \n\n6. So far as the President was concerned, the real \nmeaning of the popular interest in him is this: he \nwas in himself a large expression of the true Amer- \nican idea of this government. That idea embraces \nseveral facts and principles, of which I mention \nsome of the corner-stones: \n\n(1) The perpetual union of these States. That \nidea was illustrated at Chattanooga the other day, \nwhen Confederate and Federal veterans joined to- \ngether in raising our country\'s starry flag over the \nscene of their festival and close by the field of \nChickamauga. it was a fair sight to see! \n\n(2) An unsectional administration of the govern- \nment. Mr. Garfield had developed immensely in \nthis larger, truer patriotism within the last year. \n\n(3) A fair chance and equal justice for all men of \nevery race. He represented these ideas and senti- \nments that, despite our quarrels and wars, are at \nlast deep down in the hearts of the people. No \nwonder the people without respect to parties trusted \nthat it had been given to him "to restore Israel.*\' \n\nThis history, this life and death, should emphasize \nand accent for us some duties and principles of su- \npreme importance. \n\n1. Let us have done with abuse, and lying, and \n\n\n\n194 \n\n\n\nGarfield\'s Memory. \n\n\n\nfraud, and violence, in our politics. It would dis* \ngrace heathenism. But one says, "It is no use \xe2\x80\x94 \nthey will keep on." Who are "they?" You and \nI are of this "they." You and I can see to it that \nour politics is not "set on lire of hell." Do not \ndenounce without cause, tell no lies, do not defraud, \ncommit no violence, vote for no hitter man for any \nplace. \n\n2. We should cultivate a true spirit of national \nbrotherhood. To say and do things simply to irri^ \ntate or injure an opponent is mean, and unworthy \na civilized, to say nothing of a Christian, man. To \nhand down to our children the bitterness of a quar- \nrel, for which they are in nowise responsible, is \ntreason to the country \xe2\x80\x94 as a sin against man and \nGod. \n\n3. We owe a duty to President Arthur. His pa? \nsition is difficult, his burden heavy; his task delicate \nand complicated. We owe him respect, patience, a \nfair trial, honest support, and our fervent prayers, \nthat he may have divine grace and help for the du- \nties of his great office. \n\nWe cannot afford to return to the old bitter and \nsavage way; we cannot forget either our own inter- \nest in a good government or the world\'s stake in \nthis best and greatest of all Republics that ever \nflourished or fell. \n\n\n\nTHE MIND THAT WAS IN CHRIST. \n\n[OXFORD, JANUARY 1, 1882,] \n\n\n\n" Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus." Phi- \nlippians ii. 5. \n\nTHE text speaks of Christ as he lived among \nmen in his sinless humanity, the type and pat- \ntern of all goodness possible to our redeemed race. \n"Mind" here is not intellect, it is not the affections. \nIt means essential character, that which makes a \nman what he is rather than some other kind of man. \nWhen we say of a man " his spirit is good," or "it \nis bad," we use the word spirit in nearly the sense \nof the word "mind" in the text. St. Paul wishes \nthat his Philippian converts may be Christ-like in \ndisposition, in character, in life; that they may have \nin them that which impelled Christ to choose al- \nways as he did, right. \n\nIn the Epistle to the Romans he tells us, " If any \nman have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his." \nHow important and comprehensive this statement! \nHow exclusive also ! But we have no logic-forms \nof definition to tell us just what a Christian is; no \napothecary\'s balance, nor yard-stick, nor other me- \nchanical tests or measures. \n\nWhat is a Christian? How easy to answer if \nbeing a Christian depended on any certain thing to \n\n(195) * \n\n\n\n196 \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nbe done. If one could say, A is a Christian, he has \nbeen "baptized," he has been "confirmed," he has \n"received absolution," we could separate Christians \nfrom sinners just as Jacob distinguished his cattle \nfrom Laban\'s \xe2\x80\x94 by colors, marks, and such things. \nBut if religion is a divine life in the soul, manifest- \ning itself in the character and life, you can no more \nanswer the question, ""Who is a Christian?"" by \nbaptism-certificates than you can introduce the new \nlife by baptism itself. After all, St. Paul\'s simple \nwords contain the whole truth. A man may have \nbeen baptized, he may have had all possible eccle- \nsiastical rites performed upon him, he may have \ndone all things put down in the ritual, but to be a \nChristian he must have in him Christ\'s mind. \n\nLet us study the apostle\'s statement. What do \nwe mean by "the mind that was in Christ?" To \ngive a perfect analysis of the truth that is in these \nwords would be like formulating a perfect cosmos. \nI speak to-day only of some of the more obvious \npoints, knowing sorrowfully enough that I shall \nspeak of them inadequately. \n\nLet us first contemplate the moral side of His \nlife. \n\nHis conscience was perfect. It responded always \nand promptly and fully to every claim of truth, to \nevery call of duty. It resisted evil instantly upon \nits presentation. Its action was as instantaneous \nand invariable as the action of an instinct. We \nwill understand this when we remember that Jesus \nalways sought the right of things \xe2\x80\x94 this and nothing \nelse. He said of himself with perfect sincerity and \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\n197 \n\n\n\nWith perfect modesty, "I do always the will of my \nFather." He said, in the Sermon on the Mount, in \nthe simplest possible form of words, but expressive \nof one of the profoundest laws of spiritual life, "If \nthe eye be single, the whole body shall be full of \nlight." He had "the single eye" always. \n\nWe cannot think of Jesus as doing a right thing \nfrom sentiment, or policy, or fear. It was a matter \nof principle, of law, deep, constant, pervading his \nwhole nature, to which every thing in this world \nhad to bend. \n\nReading the story of his life from its beginning \nto its end, from his childhood in Nazareth to the \nmoment of his ascension from Bethany, what im- \npression of him is deepest? Is it his wisdom, his \npower, his lowliness, his benevolence ? We know \nthat we have never seen these attributes and qualities \nso full and perfect in any other life that ever was \nlived. But this is not our deepest and most lasting \nimpression of him. It is his purity that impresses \nus most. We understand what Peter felt and \nmeant when he said, "Depart from me, for I am a \nsinful man, Lord." \n\nHere let me say, considering who are listening \nto me, that nothing is worth so much to a young \nman as an abiding sense of right and its supreme \nclaim on human life. When we find a youth in \nthe temple saying, "I must be about my Father\'s \nbusiness," we expect him to have the Father\'s \nblessing, and to enter at last the "Father\'s house" \nin heaven. \n\nLet us now consider the sympathies of Jesus. \n\n\n\n198 \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\n"What did he feel with? What struck the key of \nhis heart? That which was good, and that only. \nWhat was evil might be splendid, but it did not \ntouch a chord in his soul. An easy illustration may \nhelp us here. Suppose any three or four of your \nacquaintances visit together a great city, as New \nYork. It has numberless and varied attractions. \nThere is something for each eye, and ear, and sense. \nHere are the highest and the lowest, the purest and \nthe vilest. One of your acquaintances will, you \nare sure, go to hear the great preachers; another \nwill go to the art-galleries and libraries; another \nwill go to the stock exchange ; another will go to \nthe varieties theaters; another to nameless places. \nWhat determines their choice? That with which \nthey are most in sympathy will attract and hold \nthem. If Jesus were to go to New York, what \nwould excite interest in him? Only the good, ex- \ncept as the evil would move his compassion that he \nmight overcome the evil with his good. You can- \nnot think of him as choosing a bad place, or a bad \ncompany, on the ground of sympathy with it. \n\nHis life and his words make it certain that he \nwas in sympathy with whatever is good, and with \nnothing else. \n\nWe must not make the word "good" here too \nnarrow. It covers all that is worthy in man. J esus \nwas in sympathy with courage, fortitude \xe2\x80\x94 all pure \nmanliness. His life is not a mere aesthetic perfec- \ntion \xe2\x80\x94 soft, delicate. He borrowed figures, in illus- \ntrating his doctrine, from the working and battling \nworld. His figures are agonistic and militant. \n\n\n\nTite Mind *hat W as In ChrIs*, \n\n\n\n199 \n\n\n\nMany of his words thrill us lik& a trumpet sound- \ning the charge. \n\nIt must never be forgotten that the goodness of \nJesus manifested itself in good works; And good- \nness that does not do good is a sham; There is a \ngood deal of dreamy dilettante piety in the world \nthat meditates, and ruminates, and feels titiiitterable \nthings, as is supposed; It affects raptures and im- \nagines that it worships. But it does nothing but \nenjoy itself, saying, "I am very gdod.\'* Christ\'s \ngoodness was an active quality; it had in it the di- \nvine energy that creates; There is no goodness \nwithout usefulness. St. Luke giVeS his biography \nand his character in a sentence i "lie Went about \ndoing good." For this he lived. To do good was \nhis meat and drink. He Said of himself, "The Son \nof man came not to be ministered unto, but to \nminister." \n\nHe cared for men, in all their interests. He \ntaught truth to the ignorant, that it might enlighten \nand make them free. He comforted the sorrowful \nhearts of mourners; he pointed out to all the bless- \nedness of purity. This is not all; Jesus cared for \nmen\'s bodies. The Church has never fully under- \nstood the significance of the fact that most of \nhis miracles were wrought upon the human body. \nThousands of sick people he healed. He put \nstrength in lame feet and palsied arms. He made \nstraight poor bent bodies, drawn together by pain. \nHe made the flesh of lepers like the flesh of healthy \nchildren. He gave sight to blind people, and opened \nthe ears of the deaf. With what tenderness he \n\n\n\n200 \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nmade the hungry multitudes sit down upon the \ngreen grass while he fed them all. He speaks of \nacts of mercy to suffering bodies as among the \nthings to be inquired into and rewarded at the last \njudgment. \n\nWe are Methodists, and are sometimes over-proud \nof our Methodism, but here let me say, Methodism \nhas never done its duty as to men\'s bodies. Meth- \nodists are behind many in ministering to the sick, \nthe lame, the suffering. Roman Catholics lead us \nin such work so far that there is no comparison. \nThe " sisters of charity" deserve the fame they have \nwon all round the world. The Episcopalians are \nfar in advance of us in such Christ-like work. Go \ninto any city. There is an orphans\'-home, there is \na hospital, there is a retreat for the helpless old \npeople. What Church is nearest to it \xe2\x80\x94 most inter- \nested in it? It is rarely, very rarely, a Methodist \nChurch. God be thanked! one Methodist, George \nI. Seney, of Brooklyn, is building a great hospital \nfor all suffering and poor people of any nation or \nsect, or no sect whatever. \n\nWe may consider briefly the intellectual life of \nJesus. \n\nI do not speak of its power, or its compass, but \nits characteristics, in which the humblest of us may \npray to be " like him." Consider the repose, the per- \nfect balance, the healthful and harmonious action \nof his intellectual powers. Among other such qual- \nities we feel that his mind is without the heats that \ncome of prejudice \xe2\x80\x94 that is always a form of selfish- \nness. Only a good conscience and a good heart can \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\n201 \n\n\n\ngive us such a mind. Genius, and learning, and \nwill, all combined, cannot secure this result in the \ncharacteristics of mental action. It comes of a good \nconscience and a good heart, and can exist in no \nother connection. \n\nBut Jesus was no recluse: he came "eating and \ndrinking;\' 3 we cannot study his character without \nconsidering his relations with men. \n\nIn the first place, consider his perfect fairness. \nHe looked at the man and the truth of things, not \nat the name, or dress, or title. He was as "full of \nlight" in judging men as in stating principles, giv- \ning to each what was due him. See how he bore \nhimself with men. Their greatness, their lowliness, \nare nothing to him. He does not cringe in the pres- \nence of hostile power; he does not assume an air \nof condescension when he talks with the most hum- \nble. Recall his interviews with the rich young \nruler, with Ificodemus, with Pilate, with Herod, \nwith the Sanhedrim. Recall him in the house of \nhumble Lazarus, as he taught the woman by Jacob\'s \nwell, and in all his dealings with the poor. You \nwill fix the thought I am trying to bring before you \nby looking at its opposite for an instant. Think \nof Jesus as deflecting one hair\'s-breadth from right \nlines in the presence of frowning power, that night \nbefore he died ! Or think of Jesus at the very height \nof his fame, when the multitudes sung hosannas to \nhim, as blushing because one of his poor relations \nfrom Galilee claimed his notice! But you cannot \nthink of Jesus in any such light. \n\nHis sympathy with humanity was perfect. He \n\n\n\n202 \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nunderstood every one. This was not divine knowl- \nedge merely; it was not the mere intuition of a \nperfect intellect; that which I now speak of w r as a \npower of reading people\'s hearts, which love gives, \nand nothing else does give. Xo genius, nor experi- \nence, nor long study of human nature, can equal \nlove for understanding people. Sobbing penitents, \nsorrowful and heart-broken people of every class, \nflocked to him, because they knew he understood \nthem. You cannot picture him as unloving, insen- \nsible, impatient toward any of them; nor can you \nimagine him as blundering in the use of comforting \nor guiding speech; for he knew each heart, and \nwished to do it good. See him on the way to the \nhouse of Jairus, whose little girl had just died. \n\'When the servants tell the distracted father that \nshe is dead. Jesus instantly comforts him with this \nword: "Be not afraid, only believe. 7 \' The crowd \nthronged him, Presently a poor woman, broken \nand bent with disease and pain and poverty, timidly \nslipped behind him and touched the hem of his \ngarment, thinking that somehow it might do her \ngood. When Jesus turned to look at her, he said, \n\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2Daughter, be of good comfort." You expected \nhim to say such a word as this. That word from \nhis lips never yet surprised any student of his life. \n\nLet us now consider how Jesus bore himself in \nhis dealings with sinners and their sins. \n\nFor a good man, one of the hardest things in the \nworld to do is to sustain just the right relation to \nsinners and their sins. One must not make the im- \npression that it is of small consequence to be a sin- \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\n203 \n\n\n\nner. Yet it will not do to repel them \xe2\x80\x94 to make \nthem feel that our religion banishes them from our \ninterests, that it separates them from our humanity. \nIf our religion drives sinners away from us, if it \ndigs a chasm between us> there is something wrong \nabout it. \n\nHow did Jesus do? First of all, he did not avoid \nthe question by isolating himself from them. The \nidea that the best way to be religious is to seek the \nwilderness, or the monk\'s cell, did not originate \neither in the doctrine or example of Jesus. He was \nno recluse; this is certain. He began life in a car- \npenter\'s shop; his first miracle was wrought at a \nwedding; he was often a guest when there was a \nlarge company entertained; his ministry was in the \nmidst of the people. His times of retirement, for \nsecret prayer and uninterrupted communion with \nthe Father, were sacred. Though there is no inti- \nmation that he had regular set times, it is plain that \nhe did often retire for special spiritual exercises. \nBut he did not live apart from nlen. He lived \namong them. And we may be sure that a religion \nthat cannot survive the companionship of our fellow- \nbeings in this working world is altogether too frail a \nthing to be trusted. It is not the religion of Christ. \nNo man or woman who is devoid of a living and lov- \ning interest in a fellow-sinner can be a Christian after \nthe spirit and example of Jesus Christ. \n\nLet us see how Jesus bore himself in intercourse \nwith sinners, or in conflict with them. A rich young \nruler came to him one day, inquiring about the way \nof life. There was work for him to do; he had a di- \n\n\n\n204 The Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nvine call to something other than the enjoyment of \nhis wealth and the leisurely cultivation of an exclu- \nsive and selfish pietism. With what kind candor did \nJesus show him the one way that was possible to \nhim ! " Go and sell all that thou hast ; give it to the \npoor; come, follow me; thou shalt have treasure in \nheaven/\' It is not as easy to be kindly candid with \nthe rich and great, in giving disagreeable advice, as \nsome who have not tried it may suppose. As a \ngeneral rule, the higher a man\'s station the less \nlikely is he to receive from Christian men the sort \nof treatment and doctrine his soul needs. \n\nOn one occasion, Jesus dined with a rich Phari- \nsee, Simon by name. Simon was satisfied with \nhimself, and, therefore, critical in his judgment of \nother people. While they were at table, a poor, \npenitent woman, "who was a sinner," came into \nthe room where they were, and timidly approached \nJesus as he reclined at the table. She "brought an \nalabaster-box of ointment, and stood at his feet be- \nhind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with \nher tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her \nhead, and kissed \'his feet, and anointed them with \nthe ointment." The self-satisfied Simon could not \nendure such a woman for a moment. He was one \nof those who think that their own virtue is con- \ntaminated if they are kind to the sort of sinners \nthat society condemns. It is not unlikely that \nthere was then at his table some rich old Pharisee \nthat Simon knew to be a sharper in trade \xe2\x80\x94 a man \nwho made hard bargains, oppressing the poor when \nhe could make shekels by it, devouring widows\' \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. 205 \n\n\n\nhouses on convenient occasion. But him, having \nsucceeded in his villainy, the world tolerated! This \nwoman, with her heart-breaking penitence \xe2\x80\x94 she was \ncontamination itself. Her betrayer, it is not im- \nprobable, had the entree to Simon\'s house. Such are \nthe ways of self-satisfied Pharisees in all ages. \n\nSimon made up his mind about Jesus when he \nsaw that he did not repel the woman and her wor- \nshipful caresses, but seemed rather to be touched \nby her grateful demonstrations. Ah! he won\'t do \nfor a prophet. " This man, if he were a prophet, \nwould have known who and what manner of woman \nthis is that toucheth him; for she is a sinner." It \nwas to him conclusive argument; he took it for \ngranted that a good man, who knew what she had \nbeen (such people look more to what men have been \nthan to what they are), would have sent her away \nwith indignation. Poor blind Simon! How very \ngood he thought himself to be! \n\nNow, see how Jesus dealt with this sinner \xe2\x80\x94 not \na conscious hypocrite, only a self-satisfied, deluded \nPharisee. Jesus spoke a parable to Simon, " answer- \ning" his secret thoughts. You remember it \xe2\x80\x94 the \nparable of the two debtors \xe2\x80\x94 one owing five hun- \ndred pence, the other fifty. They were both for- \ngiven. "Tell me, therefore, which of them will \nlove him most?" Simon answered, "I suppose \nthat he to whom he forgave most." With what \nwords Jesus applied the doctrine, showing Simon \nhow unspeakably better than he was the penitent \nwoman he despised! These words brought into \nSimon\'s soul an all-revealing light, that made \n\n\n\n206 \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nghastly death\'s-heads of all his boasted virtues. \nThe hand of Jesus did not spare him. Yet there \nwas no fierceness in the stroke, as is too common \nwith us when we brace ourselves to the point of \nrebuking the great. The woman needed comfort \nand recognition, and Jesus gave both to her. How \nher soul sunk within her when she felt the hard, \nrelentless eyes of Simon fixed upon her! How her \nsoul lifted itself up at the sound of Jesus\' voice! \nWhat he said of her, in her hearing, and said it so \nthat she might hear, looking at her while he talked \nto Simon, and what he said to her, was like the \nwine of life. I must quote these words, just as \nLuke records them. They thrill us now with their \nmusic of divine compassion : \n\n"And he turned to the woman, and said unto Si- \nmon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine \nhouse, thou gavest me no water for my feet: but \nshe hath washed my feet with her tears, and wiped \nthem with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me \nno kiss; but this woman since the time I came in \nhath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with \noil thou didst not anoint; but this woman hath \nanointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say \nunto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven: \nfor she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, \nthe same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy \nsins are forgiven." \n\nWhat a divine union of dignity and tenderness \nin his attitude toward this woman ! \n\nWe pause here a moment. Our better nature \ncondemns Simon; we call him heartless and mean. \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ, \n\n\n\n207 \n\n\n\nBut stay! Suppose that just such a woman, just \nas penitent as she was, for just such a life as hers \nhad been, were this day to come among us? Would \nwe look upon her with somewhat of Simon\'s feel- \ning? Are we Christ-like enough to know how to \nreceive such a sister, so penitent, and for such sins? \nThink on the answer before you give it. \n\nLet us see how Jesus bore himself toward a dif- \nferent class of Pharisees. There were three classes \nof Pharisees. The best class was represented by \nXicodemus, who seems to have been an honest \nsearcher after the truth. These had much of the \nleaven of religious truth and principle, and were the \nbest of the Church that then was. The third chap- \nter of John shows us how patiently, candidly, and \nearnestly Jesus sought to lead such men into the \nkingdom of heaven. A second class was repre- \nsented by this self-satisfied, self-righteous, critical \nSimon, whom we have seen revealed to himself in \nChrist\'s commendation of the penitent woman. A \nthird class was full of conscious hypocrisy. They \nwere men of policy, diplomacy. They hated Jesus, \nbecause his pure life and searching preaching con- \ndemned them. They were the men who dogged \nhis steps with spies; who sent out their emissaries \nto entrap him in his words; who, on one occasion, \nat least, sought " vehemently to provoke him to \nspeak of many things, that they might accuse him." \nThey were the men who consummated the treason \nof Judas with their "thirty pieces of silver" \xe2\x80\x94 cool \nenough, in spite of their blood-thirsty wrath, to drive \na hard bargain with the traitor. They were the \n\n\n\n208 \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nmen who "tithed anise and cummin," "neglected \nthe weightier matters of the law," and despised \nrighteousness except as the loud-mouthed profession \nof it might bring them gain or cover up their crimes. \nThey were the men who prayed on the corners of \nthe street, and sounded trumpets, that they might \nbe seen of men; who, "for a pretense, made long \nprayers," and, as a business, "devoured widows\' \nhouses," as bad and unscrupulous villains as ever dis- \nhonored the name of religion, or oppressed the poor. \n\nHow does Jesus deal with such sinners? His \nwords are terrible as the thunders that shook Sinai; \nthey burn like the lightnings that struck Israel \nwith awe. Read the " woes" denounced upon these \nhypocrites in the twenty-third chapter of Matthew, \nand in cognate passages. \n\nI read to you some of these terrible denunciations: \n"Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypo- \ncrites ! for ye make clean the outside of the cup \nand the platter, but within they are full of extortion \nand excess. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, \nhypocrites ! for ye are like unto whited sepulchers, \nw T hich indeed appear .beautiful outward, but are \nwithin full of dead men\'s bones, and of all unclean- \nness ! Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous \nunto men, but within ye are full of hypocrisy and \niniquity. Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, \nhypocrites ! because ye build the tombs of the proph- \nets, and garnish the sepulchers of the righteous, and \nsay, If we had been in the days of our fathers, we \nwould not have been partakers with them in the \nblood of the prophets. Wherefore ye be witnesses \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\n209 \n\n\n\nunto yourselves, that ye are the children of them \nwhich killed the prophets. Fill ye up then the \nmeasure of your fathers." \n\n" Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can \nye escape the damnation of hell?" \n\nBut wonderful to us, as we know the temper of \nour own hearts, there is in these fearful, withering \ndenunciations no trace of personal feeling, no per- \nsonal heats, no pulse of bitterness toward the men. \nWe think of \' nothing, while we read, but of their \nmonstrous sins, and of his holv abhorrence of all evil. \n\nIt is in the close of this awful denunciation of the \nhypocrites that Jesus \xe2\x80\x94 thinking of Jerusalem, " city \nof solemnities" and the object of ten thousand di- \nvine favors, but whose streets had been reddened \nwith so much holy blood\xe2\x80\x94 breaks out in a divine \nsob of pity: "0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that \nkillest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent \nunto thee, how often would I have gathered thy \nchildren together, even as a hen gathereth her chick- \nens under her wings, and ye would not ! Behold, \nyour house is left unto you desolate." \n\nThere is a harder test \xe2\x80\x94 his bearing toward sin- \nners who had wronged him. How he had honored, \ntrusted, and loved Peter, yet warning him faithfully \nof his danger. Peter was with him when the dead \ndaughter of Jairus was restored to life; he was with \nhim f on the Mount of Transfiguration, when Moses \nand Elias came from heaven and talked with him \n" concerning his decease which he should accomplish \nat Jerusalem." He w T as with him in the garden. \nYet Peter denied him with fierce oaths. t)o not \n14 \n\n\n\n210 The Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nsay that Jesus, being divine, did not feel such a \nwrong. He was a man, and by so much as he was \npurer and better and manlier than any other man \nwho ever lived, he felt the cruel desertion of his \nfriend the more keenly. \n\nWhen Peter had denied his Lord three times, the \ncock crew. Jesus had forewarned him: "Before \nthe cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice." They \nwere in the high-priest\'s house. St. Luke says, \n"And the Lord turned and looked upon Peter/\' \nWhat a world of meaning was in that look, full of \nsuffering, full of pity, the reproof veiled by the sor- \nrow and bleeding love. \n\nThat look was not the last of our Lord\'s dealings \nwith the sorely sinning disciple. That morning he \nrose from the dead and showed himself first to \nMary Magdalene, he said, "Go tell my disciples and \n\xe2\x80\x94 Peter." He emphasized this love-token to Peter \nthat he might know how "freely Jesus could for- \ngive." And at some time during the forty days Jesus \nappeared to Peter alone, as if he would make him \nsure of his perfect forgiveness. \n\nWhen we have reached the point in religious ex- \nperience that we really forgive friends who have cru- \nelly wronged us \xe2\x80\x94 blotting it all out from our book \nof bitter remembrance \xe2\x80\x94 we have somewhat of "the \nmind that was in Christ." \n\nI suppose a case that never occurred \xe2\x80\x94 that never \ncould occur with Jesus. I speak reverently, and \nam only trying to help myself and you bring home \nto our hearts the doctrine of the text. Suppose, \nfor a moment, that Jesus had, in any way, wronged \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. 211 \n\n\n\nanother. How promptly, how nobly, how com- \npletely, he would have sought to make reparation! \nWe do wrong one another. If we had more of the \n" mind that was in Christ " we would fly with con- \nfessions and reparations to our wronged brethren. \n\nIn every case and everywhere we find Jesus bear- \ning himself toward sinners in such a way as never \nto make the impression that sin was a small thing, \nor that he hated the persons, or that he could do \nany thing other than to seek their highest good. \n\nPutting all together, we have in the man Jesus a \nperfectly simple character. \n\nHence, when he came unto his own they " received \nhim not." They knew him not \xe2\x80\x94 they despised, \nthey rejected, they slew him. \n\nHe would not make money, nor lay up property, \nnor give himself to pleasure, nor flatter power, nor \nhumor the multitude, nor seek office, nor accept a \ncrown. They could make nothing out of him \xe2\x80\x94 this \nman who wanted nothing and who yet showed him- \nself capable of any achievement. \n\nHe did impolitic and unpopular things. He went \nto dine with Zaccheus though they all murmured; \nhe accepted the lavish gratitude of a despised wom- \nan; his most intimate Jerusalem friends were three \npoor and obscure people of Bethany. His life was \ntranscendently pure, his doctrine the loftiest that \nhad ever thrilled the human conscience. Yet he \nmade " publicans and sinners" welcome, and moved \nto and fro in the midst of the people, as any other \ncitizen might do. \n\nWhen the people cannot make a man out, they \n\n\n\n212 The Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\nalways denounoe him. So they said of Jesus: He \nis a drunkard, a glutton, a fool; he is the friend of \npublicans and sinners; he hath a devil. \n\nIt is all a mistake to suppose that the simplest \ncharacters are most readily understood. A perfectly \nsimple and upright man is never understood at all \nby the majority of men. The average man under- \nstands a Talleyrand better than he does a Madame \nRoland; he understands Beaconsfield better than \nhe does Gladstone. Men understand what they can \ntake to pieces; that which resists their analysis baf- \nfles their intelligence. \n\nTo illustrate: Suppose some great Senator in \nWashington City should rise in his place and make a \nspeech simply in the interests of his country \xe2\x80\x94 cross- \ning may be the dominant sentiment of his party \xe2\x80\x94 \nthat can, at least, in no way have any relation to \nparty schemes or interests. Perhaps we may wait \nlong for such a speech, but it is a thing conceivable. \nWhat would the party press say? They would \nbristle with exclamations and interrogations. If \nthey could find no possible motive except this, he \nthought it was right, they would reject it. That is \ntoo simple; they must find something complex \xe2\x80\x94 at \nleast double. If they cannot, they for the most \npart denounce. \n\nThe average man not only does not readily under- \nstand a perfectly simple character \xe2\x80\x94 a man who does \nthis or that only because it is right, and does not \ninquire farther for a ground of action \xe2\x80\x94 but he is \ndisposed to hate and stone it. For it baffles him. \nIt is a unit, and defies analysis like an ultimate fact \n\n\n\nThe Mind that was in Christ. \n\n\n\n213 \n\n\n\nin nature. It reproves the mixed and selfish mo- \ntives of the average man, and angers him. It may \nbe remarked, this impatience with simplicity of \ncharacter is most intense when it undertakes analy- \nsis of a religious man. It flamed at a white heat in \nthe Pharisees who compassed the death of Jesus. \n\nLet me ask, young men and brethren, is the \n"mind that was in Christ" in you? \n\nIf so, God is the center of your universe; God is \nyour Father; man is your brother; you subordinate \nself, and will crucify self if need be, \n\nHow great is the blessedness and triumph of hav- \ning the mind that was in Christ! In any case, if we \nask our hearts, " What would he do in this matter?"\' \nwe can answer any question of right and wrong; \nwe can solve any perplexity as to duty. This ques- \ntion, " What would Jesus do in this case?" is an \nelectric light, searching the very abysses of the soul \nand of life. Our diplomacy hesitates and falters, \nand finally blunders; but the single eye, asking in \nhis spirit for the truth, and the truth only, is full \nof light, and courage, and wisdom. \n\nBut we must consider for a moment the sustain- \ning, comforting, conquering power of him who has \nthe mind that was in Christ. \n\nIf we have his mind in us, we are equal to any \ntrial, any fate. Does some crisis suddenly precipi- \ntate itself upon us? We will survive the shock. \nIs it only the weary monotony of daily drudgery? \nHe drudged in Joseph\'s carpenter shop, and his \nspirit will start songs in our hearts over the lowliest \ntasks that life allots us. Is there some secret grief, \n\n\n\n214 \n\n\n\nThe Mind ^hat was in Christ. \n\n\n\nsome burden we can never lay down, some hidden \nsorrow that must have no voice except to God, some \ninner pain that must neither sigh nor groan that we \nmust carry in our hearts all life-long? If his mind \nbe in us we can do it, patiently, uncomplainingly, \ncheerfully, victoriously. \n\nIf his mind be in us prosperity will not make us \nvain, failure will not bring us into despair. There \nis no joy, there is no triumph like his who has the \n"mind that was in Christ." \n\nTo him be glory and dominion forever. Amen. \n\n\n\nTHE FAITH THAT SAVES. \n\n\n\n[OXFORD, JANUARY 15, 1882,] \n\n\n\n"As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the \nsons of God, even to them that believe on his name.*\' John i. 12. \n\nVERY often sincere people have said to me, "I \ncan\'t believe: I do n\'t know how to believe." \nThey are mistaken ; they can believe, and they know \nhow to believe. What they can\'t do is some mys- \nterious something they suppose to be believing; as \nif faith were some sort of spiritual sleight-of-hand. \n\nI feel deeply moved to-day, young men, to speak \nto you of the faith in Christ that saves men. \n\nBy saving men, I mean this one thing \xe2\x80\x94 saving \nthem from sin, and, by that token, saving them \nfrom the wages of sin. I will earnestly try to avoid \nmere technicalities; I will try to find out and tell \nyou what believing is, as our Lord Jesus teaches us. \n\nIn the very nature of things, faith implies need, \ndependence. AVe cannot think of God as having \nfaith; he needs nothing \xe2\x80\x94 no pardon; no help of any \nsort. If he could need, there could be none who \ncould supply the need. There is no power, no wis- \ndom, no purity, no goodness beyond him. But any \ncreated being, that is also intelligent, is capable of \nfaith ; for where there is subjection and dependence \nthere can be, must be, faith. Adam in Eden had \nfaith : Adam out of Eden could have faith. Angels \n\nf21o) \n\n\n\n216 \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\nhave faith. Saints redeemed will have faith forever \nand forever. It is foolish to sing, " Where faith in \nfull fruition dies." Faith will never die. It is bet- \nter to say with St. Paul, " Now abideth these three, \nfaith, hope, and charity.\'\' \n\nThe principle and law of faith are not accidents \nof our present mortal and sinful condition. Faith \nis not only possible, but it is normal and inevitable \nwherever there is dependence. It is as certainly and \nas essentially a law of the spiritual as gravitation is \nof the physical universe. Intelligent beings can no \nmore exist and fulfill the ends ot their existence \nwithout faith than the worlds can keep their orbits \nwithout gravitation. \n\nI remember that when I was a sophomore here, \nin 1857, I was greatly troubled with this question \n(sophomores are sometimes very absurd): "Why is \nfaith, and not something else, made the condition \nof salvation?" Some well-meaning but most un- \nwise friend placed in my hands a book, or pam- \nphlet, on the " Philosophy of Faith." I forthwith \ndevoured the treatise, and knew less than I did be- \nfore. It helped me somewhat when I found out \nthat neither Jesus nor his disciples used the word \n" condition " \xe2\x80\x94 that it was one of the words used by \nphilosophers and theologians. The fact is, the word \ncondition sometimes misleads us when used in con- \nnection with faith and the blessings faith brings to \nus. Among the conditions of the surrender of an \narmy may be several particulars, as that all govern- \nment property be turned over to the conqueror, that \nthe men agree to fight no more unless exchanged, \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. 217 \n\n\n\nthat officers retain their side-arms, and many other \nsuch matters, any one of which, or all of which, \nmight have been different. Faith is not a condition \nof salvation in any such sense; the only reason we \nmay use the word condition at all in this connection \nis simply this\xe2\x80\x94 there can be no salvation without it. \nNot simply because faith has been fixed upon as the \ncondition, but because it must needs have been the \ncondition. Nothing else can be. Breathing is a \ncondition of continued animal life in the same sense \nthat faith is the condition of spiritual life. Consti- \ntuted as we are, breathing is a vital necessity; con- \nstituted as we are, faith is as truly a necessity to all \nspiritual life. It is law \xe2\x80\x94 not arbitrary, but essen- \ntial \xe2\x80\x94 a law growing out of the very nature of God, \nthe very constitution of man, and the relation be- \ntween them. In the very nature of things, no mere \nform or ceremony could have been made a condition \nof salvation. Nothing that can be done without \nfaith, or that is done without faith, is of any utility \nin bringing salvation into the soul and life of man. \nNo rite, as circumcision or baptism ; no sacrifice, \nno priestly manipulations, could answer as condi- \ntions. If God could have appointed the mere doing \nof some particular thing as the condition of sal- \nvation, it might have made the matter very sim- \nple; but it would have made salvation itself impos- \nsible. \n\nI long to show you how simple a thing it is, and \nyou must help me by answering questions in your \nown hearts. Now, what is it that we need? I \nspeak now of our personal, spiritual life, not of our \n\n\n\n218 \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\nneed of things temporal, as food, raiment, help in \ntrouble, deliverance from bodily danger, and such \nother things as belong to our daily external life. \nMen are sometimes frightened away from a truth by \nthe name people give to it. It may be a foolish \nweakness, nevertheless a man who loves a truth \nmore than he loves its form will respect this weak- \nness. Our Lord did. Never did a teacher lay so \nlittle stress on mere form. Indeed, in the sense in \nwhich Church councils use such words, he never \nformulated a single doctrine \xe2\x80\x94 -not one. He did not \nformulate a doctrine even of his own nature or \ncharacter. \n\nI do ndt in the least discount or question the \nwritings of St. John or of St. Paul; I only call at- \ntention to a fact in the teachings of Jesus. It is St. \nJohn, not Jestis, who gives us the doctrine of the \nWord, the Logos; it is St. Paul, not Jesus, who \ngives us in form the doctrine of " justification by \nfaith." The essential living truth that these words \nsignify Jdsus did teach. But let us remember, with \ngratitude unutterable, that Jesus does nowhere stress, \nas necessary to salvation, the acceptance of a form \nof words, the understanding of definitions. \n\nIt is important to understand this clearly, for \nsometimes people are frightened from the truths of \nreligion by certain words and phrases, as if they \nwere religion itself; as if because the words suggest \nsomething they do not understand that therefore \nthey cannot understand religion itself. As if one \nshould say: " I do not know what you mean by \' the \nprimary colors;\' therefore I do not know what \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\n219 \n\n\n\nyou mean by light; in fact, I clo not believe there \nis such a thing." \n\nI Was asking just now, What is it that we need? \nLet us look, first of all, into our own hearts \xe2\x80\x94 con- \nsciousness, if you prefer. Look closely into your \nhearts and find the answer. This is the natural \nmethod; the gospel means nothing to us till there \nrises up in our own hearts the sense of need- \xe2\x80\x94 of \nsomething we have not in ourselves. There comes \ninto every human heart the cry of John the Baptist \nbefore the manifestation of the Christ. And this \nwilderness cry, this call to repentance that has for \nits answer in obedient souls a cry for a Saviour, \ncomes very early. Who shall say how soon? Long \nbefore a little child can manage to take into its com- \nprehension our form of words we call doctrine, it \ncan take in the words which the Holy Ghost useth. \nHow soon the Spirit may make itself understood by \na child, I cannot tell; but far sooner than they be- \nlieve who are accustomed to say, when little chil- \ndren ask from God\'s people recognition of their \nrights in his Church, " They are too young to under- \nstand what they are doing." As if justification were \nby knowledge! If so, who then could be saved? \n\nNot long ago a friend, the pastor of a Church, \nwrote to me, telling me of a little girl four years old \nwho wanted to join the Church. The little one\'s \nmother said that her child had been piously dis- \nposed from the first evidences of intelligence \xe2\x80\x94 that \nshe lived religiously. But alas ! the child must have \ncertain Church questions \'-propounded" to it \xe2\x80\x94 about \na "desire to flee from the wrath to come," "ratify- \n\n\n\n220 The Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\ning " its " baptismal covenant," and such like! The \n"twelve" are not the only disciples of Jesus who \nforbid the little ones to come to him. What would \nJesus have done had he been pastor when such a \ncandidate came forward? We know what he did \nonce. " He took them in his arms and said, Suffer \nthe little children to come unto me, and forbid them \nnot, for of such is the kingdom of heaven." \n\nThis John the Baptist call we have been hearing \nsince w r e could remember. It has been always fol- \nlowed by one feeling. Let us lay aside all technical \nwords and phrases and ask, What does my heart \ntell me that I need? \n\n1. When we have done wrong \xe2\x80\x94 pardon. This is \nnot peculiar to theology; it grows out of the very \nconstitution of our nature and our relation to the \neternal law of right. It is not a feeling confined to \nthe religious sphere. It may exist without our \nthinking of God at all. It arises whenever a human \nbeing, child or man, reflects upon an act of disobe- \ndience to rightful authority, or a wrong done an- \nother. A little child who has never heard of God \n\xe2\x80\x94 a Chinese child, if you please \xe2\x80\x94 feels it, having \ndisobeyed its mother. Let us respect facts whether \nwe can account for them or not. Here is a fact, \nobvious, undeniable, unmistakable. Whenever we \nfeel that we have done wrong, we feel the need of \npardon. \n\n2. With farther knowledge of ourselves \xe2\x80\x94 a knowl- \nedge that may not have found definitions as yet \xe2\x80\x94 \nwe realize a certain tendency to wrong-doing. We \nvery early distinguish between the wrong thing \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\n221 \n\n\n\ndone and the tendency to the doing of it. "With the \nfeeling that we need pardon for what we have done \nvery soon comes the feeling that we need some sort \nof change on account of what we are ; a change that \nwill take from us that something whose natural \ndrift is evil, and of the bringing into us of some- \nthing whose drift is good. St. Paul justifies me \nhere. So does Horace when he speaks of one who \n" saw the better way and pursued the worse." You \nand I have felt this many times. \n\n3. Moreover, when we do not only see the right, \nbut prefer it, we still feel the need of help that we \nmay do the right. Prayer is an instinctive cry for \nthis help. Who is there that does not feel this need \nof help in his efforts to do right, and to be what he \nfeels that he ought to be and what he wishes to be? \nThere never was a human being who never had this \nfeeling. At all events, you have had this feeling, \nand you have it now while I speak to you. Tell me, \nis there any thing unnatural, any thing contradic- \ntory of your past experience, or of your present con- \nsciousness, in what I have said? You might have \nused different words in stating it, but have I not in- \ndicated the facts in your case ? Who of us has not \nfelt a need of pardon for what we have done; a \nchange in us; help to do and to be right and pure? \nBut these things are meant when the Church speaks \nof (1) the forgiveness of sin; (2) the new birth, or a \nchange of heart; (3) divine grace to help us. \n\nFeeling all these things, penitent David prayed: \n"Hide thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine \niniquities. Create in me a clean heart, God, and \n\n\n\n222 \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\nrenew a right spirit within me. Restore unto me \nthe joy of thy salvation, and uphold me with thy \nfree spirit." \n\nI speak now of Christ\'s answer to this cry. \n\nThe gospel is called "good news," because it \noffers the helps we need \xe2\x80\x94 pardon, a new heart, and \ngrace. Jesus says: " I am the true life; " "He that \nbelieveth on me shall never die; " " He that believeth \nshall be saved." He says also, "He that believeth \nnot shall be damned." St. Paul, and every other \ntrue preacher from his days, speaks of "being jus- \ntified by faith." He says also, "The just shall live \nby faith." \n\nAll depends on faith, whether we ask Jesus, or \nPaul, or any other who knows the mind of Christ. \nWhat, then, is faith? What is believing? \n\nIt is worth your remembrance and best reflection : \nChrist never defines faith\xe2\x80\x94 that is, tells us exactly \nwhat it is. No inspired writer attempts a definition \nof this sort. Only ordinary and uninspired men do \nthis. Why did Jesus not define faith \xe2\x80\x94 tell us ex- \nactly what it is? \n\nBecause, 1. He could not; faith is incapable of \nsuch definition. Only complex things, or things \nlimited, can be defined. Defined means to mark the \nlimits. Simple things cannot be defined. There are \ntruths, principles, powers, that are like ultimate facts \nin science. You cannot go beyond them. You can \nstate them \xe2\x80\x94 that is all. Ask your man of science, \n"What is water?" "That is easj 7 ," he will say; \n"it is a fluid composed of two gases, oxygen and \nhydrogen, combined in certain definite proportions." \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. 223 \n\n\n\nAsk him, " What is oxygen? " He will say, " Why, \noxygen is oxygen." Why does n\'t he define oxygen? \nIt is simple; it is an ultimate fact; it is so far, in \nthe history of the laboratory, incapable of analysis. \nTruths and principles and influences that reach into \ninfinite realities cannot be defined. Faith is an ul- \ntimate fact in the spiritual world, and its reach is \nboundless. You had as well attempt to fix the \nboundaries of space. If you conclude, now, that \nfaith is not real, that it is not important, because \nindefinable, you will conclude most unwisely. For \nthe most real things in the universe, and the most \nimportant, are indefinable. What is so real, so im- \nportant, as love? But it is indefinable, as beauty is \nindefinable. So is holiness \xe2\x80\x94 indeed, all the greatest \nfacts in life, and the dominant forces of the uni- \nverse. May we not say, with great reverence, God \nis the essential reality, and God is indefinable? \n\n2. There is another good reason why our Lord \ndid not define faith; it -was not necessary to define \nit. For all men know what it means until they try \nto define it. Then they do not know; and the more \nthey define, the less they know. \n\nBut you will ask, What is faith? what is believ- \ning? I answer, There are no words \xe2\x80\x94 only facts, in- \nstances, illustrations, paraphrases. \n\nLet us see. See that little baby on its mother\'s \nbosom, looking into her eyes while it draws from her \nbreasts its life. It sees her love, and believes. Your \nconceited and impertinent logic will be asking pres- \nently, What is it, this faith of the baby? Ask the \nbaby; it can tell you as well as my Lord Bacon can. \n\n\n\n224 \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\nBy and by that baby, now a tired and hungry \nboy, comes to the mother and says, " Mother, please \ngive me a piece of bread." How the boy would be \nstunned by refusal! Why? Because the request \ngrew out of faith. Years come and go. That boy, \nonce the clinging baby, is now a man, no longer \nyoung. He seeks once more that mother\'s loving \nbreast. Storm-tossed and weary, the broken spirit \nlongs to feel again the sweet support of a mother\'s \narms. And with absolute confidence he comes and \nlays his head on the mother\'s lap. What does it \nmean? Faith. \n\nLet us look at the matter in another light, as re- \nlated to the activities of life. See the boy Warren \nHastings, lying full-length on a hilUside one autumn \nevening, gazing at the hall and home of his ances- \ntors, and resolving to reclaim it from alien hands, \nor die in the attempt. That purpose fired his heart \nand nerved his arm for forty years. What is the \nvery center and main-spring of such a purpose, and \nof such a history, but faith \xe2\x80\x94 faith that it could be \ndone? " Faith is," indeed, " the substance of things \nhoped for, the evidence of things not seen." One \ntrouble is, you think, that faith, as a saving princi- \nple, faith in religious experiences, is a strange, un- \naccountable, and altogether different thing from any \nother faith. You do not want it explained any- \nwhere else; you accept facts\xe2\x80\x94 you believe, and go \non with all the activities and realities of life. \n\nDo you say, This is because religious faith is con- \ncerned with things invisible? Not so; all faith is \nconcerned with things invisible. The baby\'s faith \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\n225 \n\n\n\nis not in the face of the mother it sees, not in the \narms it feels, not in the voice it hears, but in the \nlove it neither sees, nor feels, nor hears. \n\nYou are asking again, But what is faith in Christ? \nI answer, Just that, and nothing else\xe2\x80\x94 faith in \nChrist. This is not trifling with you, or making \nlight of your perplexities. It is the right answer \nto give you, and there is no other. Why don\'t you \ncome, with your cold-blooded logic, and ask me \nwhat is the baby\'s faith in its mother\'s love? It \nwould be quite as reasonable and profitable. The \nfaith of the baby is not a simpler thing, not a less \nindefinable thing, than is saving faith in Jesus \nChrist. Of saving faith, it is Bushnell, I think, \nwho says, " It is an act of trust by which one being, \na sinner, commits himself to another being, a \nSaviour." Long ago, when I read these words, I \nwas glad. I thought I had found a definition of \nfaith. But not so; this only tells us what one does \nwho has faith. A sinner wants pardon, a new heart, \nand grace, to help him live a holy life, and he looks \nto Jesus for what he wants. That is all there is in \nit. As a mental process, believing in Jesus does \nnot differ from believing in one\'s mother. The ob- \nject is in one case my mother; in the other, it is \nmy Saviour. \n\nProm the beginning to the end of his ministry \namong men, Jesus was, in one way and another, \npersuading them to have faith. What sort of words \ndid he use? What form did his invitation take? \nThe simplest possible to words. It was always as \nsimple as this: "Come unto me." \n\n\n\n226 \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\nThe faith that saves trusts. It need not explain, \nand its efficacy does not depend upon the excellence \nof its explanation. \n\n1. Let us distinctly understand that the inex- \nplicable does not mean the untrue or impossible. \nIllustrations abound; the world is full of them. \nThe fact is, every form of being has its secret. A \nblade of grass baffles all science. We cannot get \nat the how of things the most commonplace in the \nworld. That religion has inexplicable facts, pro- \ncesses, and experiences, is no argument against its \nreality. If it were, it would be easy to prove that \nyou yourself do not exist, since nobody can explain \nhow you came to exist, how you continue to exist. \n\n2. Let us understand, also, that it is not our \nknowledge of the method of salvation, but our faith \nin its author, Jesus Christ, that saves. \n\nIt is well enough to seek to know the divine \nmode of working, but not too curiously. You may \nbe sure that a great deal of what is called " theol- \nogy " is only a pitiful exhibition of human folly and \npride. \n\nLet me explain clearly at this point. Is it neces- \nsary that one should "understand the plan of sal- \nvation," in order to be saved? Yes, if w^e are saved \nby the "plan," and not by Jesus Christ. Yes, if \njustification is by knowledge, and not by faith. \n\nWhy do you look so doubtfully upon a child, only \nfour years old, that prays to the Father in heaven \nand trusts in him when it wants a place among \nGod\'s people? Because you doubt if it "under- \nstands the plan of salvation." Millions of grown \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\n227 \n\n\n\npeople have thought in such a case, "That child \ndoes not understand the nature of its responsibilities \nin joining the Church." What if it does not? Who \nis saved by any such understanding? Not one hu- \nman soul. \n\nLet us go to Simon\'s house, as Jesus reclined at \nhis table. A penitent woman \xe2\x80\x94 " a woman that had \nbeen a sinner " \xe2\x80\x94 approaches the Lord. Such women \nwere not afraid to go to him, and he was not afraid \nto have them come. It is such as we who are afraid \n\xe2\x80\x94 God forgive our conceited Pharisaism ! She breaks \nan alabaster-box, and anoints his feet; she weeps \nupon them; she washes them with her tears; she \nwipes them with the hairs of her head. \n\nDid she understand the plan of salvation? What \ndid she know about the Logos? About vicarious \natonement? About original sin ? " the federal head- \nship of Adam?" about the Catechism? or the Creed? \nabout theology? I do not despise catechisms and \ncreeds and theology, if kept in their place. But \ndo not hang them on a cross and tell me, "Under- \nstand these, and you will be saved." It is a fearful \nthing when men make a stumbling-block of their \nso-called science of salvation, so blocking the way \nof life with it that people cannot be saved. \n\nNo; the penitent woman did not understand the- \nology. There was a great pain in her heart, and \nshe came to Jesus for help, just as naturally as a \npoor child, shivering from a weary tramp through \ndarkness and blinding snow, draws near the light \nand spreads its hands toward the warmth of the \nfire in a loving home. \n\n\n\n228 \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\nSt. Paul understood a good deal about the plan \nof salvation, but he was not saved by that knowl- \nedge, but by his faith in Christ Jesus, whom he re- \nceived as his Teacher, Priest, and King. All per- \nfect faith receives Christ in this threefold character, \nbut millions have been saved who never thought of \neither of these words as applied to Christ. \n\nWhat did the poor thief on the cross know about \nthe threefold offices? What does a poor heathen \xe2\x80\x94 \na Chinaman in Shanghai wandering in his darkness \ntill he comes in, some Sunday morning, to " Trinity \nChurch," and hears our own Young Allen tell the \nstory of the cross, till his heart is moved and he \nfalls in love\'with Jesus \xe2\x80\x94 what does he know about \na creed concerning him? \n\nPardon me, good women, who hear me to-day, \nhow is your religion related to your doctrinal \nknowledge of Christ? your understanding of what \nis meant by such words as "atonement," "vicarious \nsuffering," "the eternal word?" You do not, in \nyour best religious moods, and in your deepest re- \nligious experiences, think of such things. And \nnobody does. Christ Jesus satisfies your souls; \ntherefore you come to him; it is enough. You are \nsaved by a person, and not by a plan. \n\nLet Paul tell us, and John, and Luther, and Cal- \nvin, and Wesley, and Edwards, and the other im- \nmortals among saints and thinkers, whether the \nfaith that saved them was dependent upon their \nknowledge of how they were saved, or upon their \ncomprehension of the mysteries of the divine nat- \nure. Xo; Paul says, "0 the depth of the riches \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\n229 \n\n\n\nboth of the wisdom and knowledge of God!" Wes- \nley said when he was about to be " translated that \nhe should not see death," \n\nI the chief of sinners am, \nYet Jesus died for me. \n\nHow can we believe in Jesus? Ah! that is an- \nother question. If we do not want him we cannot \nbelieve in him. But if we truly feel the need he \ncame to supply, if we want him truly, we cannot \nhelp believing in him. And be sure, Jesus is what \nwe want. \n\nTou do not understand this? That is because \nyou neither know yourself nor Jesus. \n\n"But I do not understand some verses in Genesis, \nand Paul says some things that trouble me." And \nyou have come to this refuge have you? As if un- \nderstanding Genesis were any more the condition \nof salvation than understanding creation. You do \nnot deny the creation, do you? Satan is indeed \nhard pressed when he leads you into such a castle \nof doubt as this. \n\nLet me say to you, in conclusion, for this time: I \nam not in the least troubled by any discoveries, or \nso-called discoveries, of science. I rejoice in all the \ndiscoveries. They teach me more of my Father and \nmy Saviour. Nor does my faith \xe2\x80\x94 the faith that \nbrings me comfort \xe2\x80\x94 depend upon the answers that \nwise and good men make to the unbelievers. I do \nnot believe that geology contradicts Moses; I do \nnot believe that there is in dead matter "the prom- \nise and potency " of the universe teeming with life. \n\n\n\n230 \n\n\n\nThe Faith that Saves. \n\n\n\nBut if there never was a deluge, nor a Tower of \nBabel, nor a hundred other things that infidels have \ncaviled at, and that foolish people have ridiculed, \nthis I know: here still is Jesus. Here are his words, \nhere his life, here his death. He stands fast, though \nthe heavens fall. \n\nPardon an absurd illustration of a form of doubt \nhard pressed for an objection. One of our young \nmen came to me the other day, telling me that some \none calling himself an infidel had been troubling \nhim about an alleged discrepancy between two gen- \nealogical tables \xe2\x80\x94 one in Matthew and one in Luke. \n\nIf there were such discrepancy, what of that? No \nman is saved by faith in a list of names. If the \nnames of men were all blotted out, "the Name that \nis above every name that is named in heaven or \nearth" abides. In that Name we trust; in him we \nbelieve who is called by that name. Jesus said, \n" He that believeth on me hath everlasting life." \nThis is the theology that saves men. "Pie that be- \nlieveth shall not perish" \xe2\x80\x94 cannot. Faith in Jesus \nand damnation cannot coexist. He that believes is \nsaved; he that continues to believe lives forever; he \nthat believeth not is condemned already. It was at \nthe grave of Lazarus that Jesus said: "I am the \nresurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, \nthough he were dead, yet shall he live; and whoso- \never liveth and believeth in me shall never die." \n\n\n\nST. PAUL TO YOUNG MEN. \n\n\n\n[OXFORD, FEBRUARY 5, 1882,] \n\n\n\n"Be sober-in inded." Titus ii. 9. \n\nTHE germ -thought of this text is self-restraint. \nThe Bible doctrine of human life demands re- \nstraint; that is, the right government and not the \nextirpation of our nature. The right understand- \ning of this distinction I look upon as a matter of \nthe first importance. Let us use great plainness of \nspeech, and endeavor honestly to get at the truth of \nthings. \n\nFirst of all then, let us consider what kind of a \nbeing God made man to be. \n\n1. He is an animal. Considered in respect simply \nof his body and its life, a man is as truly and purely \nan animal as is a horse. The general structure is \nalike \xe2\x80\x94 a combination of bones, muscles, nerves, tis- \nsues. The great vital processes are alike in each. \nSo far as mere body is concerned their mode of com- \ning into this world and getting out of it are the \nsame. They hold identical relations to the law of \ngravity, the processes of chemistry, and the mechan- \nical forces. They have in their constitution many \ncharacteristics in common. Their wants, appetites, \ninstincts, in so far as these grow out of bodily or- \nganization, are alike. For example, hunger is the \nsame sort of thing in the horse and in the man ; the \n\n(231) \n\n\n\n232 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\nreproductive instinct is the same. So is the dispo- \nsition to rest that follows exertion, and the desire \nof motion that follows repose. \n\nNow let us ask, Is there a place in nature \xe2\x80\x94 that \nis, in God\'s world \xe2\x80\x94 for such an animal as man? \nThere is not only a place for him, there is need of \nhim. Animal life would be incomplete without \nhim \xe2\x80\x94 without him considered simply as an animal. \nAll other things, animate and inanimate, are a true \nprophecy of his coming. In man are the arche- \ntypes of all the ideas set forth in the creation of \nother beings in nature. This impressive fact is as \nobvious, perhaps more so, in fetal as in post-natal \nlife. No wonder so many writers have called man \na microcosm \xe2\x80\x94 a little world in himself, an epitome \nof the universe. As Mrs. Browning sings: \n\nSince God collected and resumed in man \n\nThe firmaments, the strata, and the lights, \n\nFish, fowl, and beast, and insect \xe2\x80\x94 all their trains \n\nOf various life caught back upon his arm, \n\nReorganized and constituted man, \n\nThe microcosm, the adding up of works. \n\nWhat we first seek for this morning, young men, \nis this: To find a true, rational, and scriptural law \nand rule of life for this wondrous animal \xe2\x80\x94 man. Of \ncourse we will fail if we forget the other and higher \nelements in man\'s complex nature. We cannot, in \nany sensible view of man as an animal, forget man \nas mind, or man as spirit; we cannot forget either \nhis intellect or his affections. But in our attempts \nto teach the rights and wrongs of things we too \noften forget man as an animal. When we have \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n233 \n\n\n\nthought of him so we have been prone to despise \nhim. This is irrational and a sort of profanity, \nsince it casts contempt upon the works of God \xe2\x80\x94 \nworks that he pronounced "very good/\' \n\nFor my part, I firmly believe that no little non- \nsense, false philosophy, and sham religion has con- \nfused council in the consideration of man as an \nanimal\xe2\x80\x94 an animal, let us remember, that God made. \nLet us endeavor to get at the very bottom truth of \nthings. We may fail, but we can at least make an \nhonest effort. \n\nI bring the discussion at once to the altar and ask, \nIs there sin \xe2\x80\x94 that is, any violation of law, the law \nof his very life \xe2\x80\x94 in what is simply normal, natural \nif you please, to the nature, the essential constitu- \ntion of this animal, man? Let us take a concrete \ncase: Is hunger sinful ? It is a purely bodily, animal \nsensation, whether in the tolerable disquiet in the \nnerves that govern the digestive apparatus when he \nhas passed his usual feeding hour, or in the intoler- \nable agonies of starvation. Is hunger therefore \nsinful \xe2\x80\x94 sinful because it is a bodily sensation ? No; \nbut whatever misuses, abuses this appetite of hun- \nger, whether it be gluttony or fanatical starving, is \nsin. Gluttony violates the law of bodily health and \ndegrades the man, considered simply as an animal. \nFor no mere animal, under normal conditions, ever \ncommits the sin of gluttony. Gluttony sins on the \nside of over-indulgence; asceticism sins on the side \nof excessive abstinence. Both violate law, both are \nsinful, both are followed by the " wages of. sin," \nboth produce disease and tend to death. Fanatical \n\n\n\n234 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\nfasting \xe2\x80\x94 fasting that goes so far that it produces \ndisease \xe2\x80\x94 is as sinful as gluttony. \n\nI have taken the food-appetite and hunger, the \nindication and effect of the lack of food, for illus- \ntration, because it is easy of apprehension. But \nother natural appetites and instincts of the animal, \nman, are in the same category. There is nothing \nignoble or worthy of contempt, there is no sin in \nthe appetite itself, whether it be hunger, thirst, the \nreproductive instinct, or any other. Sin appears \nwith its abuse \xe2\x80\x94 that is, a use not according to the \nlaw ordained for its regulation. \n\nThis is not an argument that will extenuate or \ncondone licentiousness; it is an argument that for- \nbids it most sternly and absolutely; it is an argu- \nment that finds for chastity a foundation impregna- \nble \xe2\x80\x94 a foundation of law inherent in the very nature \nand constitution of man himself, a law primordial, \nthat existed and pronounced its benedictions and \nenforced its penalties before Moses and Sinai \xe2\x80\x94 a \nlaw of which the seventh commandment and all its \ncognates are but the formulated and authoritative \nstatements. \n\nYou may be sure of it; the law of chastity and \nthe law of moderation in eating were not ordained \nby Moses, or even by the Creator in Moses\'s time. \nThey were before Moses ; God impressed them upon \nthe essential constitution of the first man he ever \nmade. And they would survive, instinct with sav- \ning or avenging power, if every Bible were burned \nout of the world. \n\nNovV what are men, trying to fill aright the true \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n235 \n\n\n\nends of their existence, to do with the appetites and \ninstincts that inhere in the very organization of their \nbodies and constitution of their being? \n\nThere are two answers proposed to men seeking \nthe way of life. Asceticism, which is one of the \nblind fanaticisms that has intruded itself into much \nhuman thinking, says, Up-root them, crucify them, \ndestroy them utterly. A class of so-called devo- \ntional books, that have done much harm in the \nworld, are full of this folly. We need not go to \nbooks for proof of the statement that one answer to \nthe question is, these appetites and passions must be \ndestroyed utterly and crucified out of existence. \nScores and hundreds of times have most of us heard \nmen pray that God would " utterly consume our pas- \nsions and appetites ! " All this is irrational; more, \nit is blasphemous. It is to take to God\'s altar a \npiece of his handiwork, and tell him to his face that \nhe blundered in making it; that he did not know \nhow to make man; that he must now atone for the \nblunder by destroying what, according to the divine \nplan, is an integral and essential part of him. \n\nSuch philosophy is a hollow sham, and such \nprayers are insincere. Where they are sincere, they \nare the indications of a kind and degree of insanity. \nNo man in his senses ever really wants God to an- \nswer such a prayer. Such prayers are made with \nthe full and comfortable assurance that they will \nnot be answered. Elsewise they would not be made \nat all. \n\nSincere or insincere, it all comes to nothing. You \ncannot extirpate these natural promptings and in- \n\n\n\n236 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Youkg Men. \n\n\n\nstincts without marring and destroying God\'s work* \nSee Simeon Stylites, celebrated in legend and song, \nas a typical man among those who have sought \npurity of soul by abusing and destroying their bod- \nies, waging fierce war upon the very natures that \nGod gave them for noble and necessary uses. See \nthe crazy devotees of all false religions \xe2\x80\x94 whether \nBuddhistic, Mohammedan, Romish, or pseudo-Prot- \nestant \xe2\x80\x94 trying to starve, and flagellate, and destroy \ntheir bodies to the point of overcoming the devil. \nSuch fanatics may reduce themselves to mere skel- \netons covered with rags, but naturfe is there, quiv- \nering under the rags, potential, if not active, pro- \ntesting against the wrong. How Satan mocks, with \njeering and endless laughter, such mindless folly ! \nHow these fanatics contemn the wonderful story of \nEden, where man, as God made him, was placed \nwith his Creator\'s blessing pronounced upon him ! \nHow they contemn the more wonderful story of \nBethlehem and of the eternal Word made flesh! \n\nWhat does St. Paul say to us, young men ? " Be \nsober-minded;" practice restraint, self-restraint; \nkeep to law \xe2\x80\x94 the law of nature, of health, of decen- \ncy, of virtue, of chastity, of life, of God. \n\nBut does not St. Paul, in another place, speak of \ncrucifying the flesh with the lusts thereof? Yes; \nand the argument, as well as the figurative terms \nwhich he employs, shows that he does not mean \nextirpation, but government. Does he not speak \nof " keeping his body under?" Yes; but this \nmeans subordination, not destruction. Does he not \nteach us to pray that our " bodies," as well as our \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n237 \n\n\n\n" souls," may be " sanctified ? " Yes ; and the prayer \nis graciously answered in and for both body and \nsoul, when both are in their place, obeying the di- \nvine law of their existence. \n\n2. Looking further at this being man, that we \nhave so far this morning been considering only as \nan animal, we find something more than body ; we \nfind that which we call mind \xe2\x80\x94 something more than \nwe can discuss at this time or fully understand at \nany time. But keeping sight of the text and those \nprinciples and powers in man that make self-re- \nstraint necessary and a supreme virtue, we find that \nthe mind has certain tendencies or cravings that we \ncall desires, just as the body has certain cravings \nthat we call appetites. Among others we find in \nall normal minds the desire of knowledge, of power, \nof superiority, of property, of praise. These de- \nsires are as spontaneous as any instincts. \n\nAre they sinful in themselves? It is often taken \nfor granted that these natural desires of the mind \nare in themselves very wicked. By many they are \ndenounced, sneered at, prayed against \xe2\x80\x94 in words at \nleast \xe2\x80\x94 as if they were mortal sins. \n\nNow these desires are normal to the mind \xe2\x80\x94 they \ngrow out of its constitution; just as hunger is nor- \nmal to the body when it needs food ; just as hunger \ngrows out of the very organization of the body. \nAnd they are as innocent in their lawful use and \ngratification. "0!" but says one, with an eye on \nwhat he fancies to be a peril to orthodoxy, " these \ndispositions, the desire of property, superiority, \npraise, and such like, are sinful, though natural, for \n\n\n\n238 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\nthey came through the fall! they are the outcrop- \npings of our depravity!" Little doubt have I as to \nthe fact of what we call depravity, but will some \none be good enough to tell me how he knows that \nthese natural desires of the mind are any more due \nto the fall than are hunger and the other bodily ap- \npetites. Is it too much to suppose that Adam and \nEve in Eden, without food, would have suffered \nhunger ? It would be as easy to conceive of a square \ncircle, or of a four-sided triangle, as to conceive of a \nman not hungry when he lacked food, or of a man \ndispleased when he receives deserved approbation. \nThere is neither Bible nor reason for any such no- \ntion as that what is- essential to the very constitu- \ntion of a man came to him by any violation of the \nlaw of his being. Without these mental aptitudes \nman would be as unfit for the work of the world \nand the duties of human life as he would have been \nhad his bodily organization lacked what is essential \nto the very existence of it. \n\nDoes one quote our Lord\'s words: " How can ye \nbelieve which receive honor one of another? 99 His \nreproof of the disciples struggling for the preemi- \nnence? Of the Pharisees, ostentatious of their pi- \nety ? I answer : J esus does reprove the unrestrained, \nungoverned, inordinate seeking after honor \xe2\x80\x94 the \nmaking a business of it, the sacrificing other and \nhigher things for it. But the natural instinct that \nfinds satisfaction in praise he does not reprove ; he \nappeals to it. He offers rewards for well-doing; \nhe says, " Well done, thou good and faithful serv- \nant." In his letters to the Churches in Asia Mi- \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n239 \n\n\n\nnor, our risen Lord commends every thing good in \nthem. \n\nLet me bring this matter of the sinfulness or in- \nnocence of the desire of praise to a sharp issue. If \nall love of praise is wrong, then we ought to praise \nnothing. If all desire of success is wrong, then we \nought not to try to succeed. \n\nLet us, in order to find out the truth more clear- \nly, keep to the easy illustration and instance, the \nlove of praise, remembering that the argument ap- \nplies to the other natural desires of the mind. If \nit is all wrong, we should praise nothing; we should \nbe silent, except where we can condemn ; or so man- \nage our approval that those who have deserved and \nwon it shall never hear of it \xe2\x80\x94 at least not in this \nworld. If the love of praise, the desire of esteem, \nbe in itself sinful, what are we to do about the meth- \nods employed throughout the entire organization \nof human society? Is it a sin for the mother to \npat the head of her little prattler, and tell him he \nhas done well, when he has done well? If the sim- \nple desire of praise is wrong, then is it wrong for \nthe mother to praise her baby, for she gratifies this \ndesire and strengthens it. Is it a sin for a husband \nto praise his wife, when she has done her part well? \nIs it a sin for the wife to let her husband see that \nshe truly appreciates his struggles for the support \nof his family? Is it a sin for the faculty here to \ngive students credit for what they do ? \n\nWhy do I ask such questions ? To show how ab- \nsurd are some notions that are urged upon people \nas virtues. \n\n\n\n240 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n"What a sham is all this philosophism and so- \ncalled religion that assumes to plant its iron heel on \nthe human heart, and that esteems itself wise and \ngood in proportion to its success in crushing out of \nit God-given instincts that he saw to be necessary \nto the constitution of humanity. It is an affecta- \ntion of humility that says, you are lost if you en- \njoy the approval of your friends, the praise of your \nfellow-men. What a sham to say: " I care nothing \nfor what men think of me, say of me. I praise \nnone. I receive praise from none." Profound ego- \ntism and mock humility are at the bottom of such \ntalk as this. \n\nThere is no human being of good sense, not ut- \nterly depraved, who is insensible to the good opinion \nof his fellow-men. It is only an all-consuming ego- \ntism, feeding upon the contemplation of its assumed \nincomparable excellence, that pretends to such in- \ndifference. What is the divine law as to this in- \nborn and innocent love of esteem? Restraint, not \nextirpation. What is the sin? Becoming a slave \nto the feeling \xe2\x80\x94 inordinate, selfish ambition, that \nblinds to better things; that makes men mean and \nfalse; that seeks its ends by unworthy and sinful \nmethods. For illustration: it is not a sin, young \nmen, for you to desire to excel in your class; it is a \nsin to cheat in order to excel. And it is a sin to be \nmiserable and jealous if you fail. \n\nSecondly, it is not mere restraint, but self-re- \nstraint; it is self-government that St. Paul enjoins \nupon us. \n\nWhat young men want (old men too, for that \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n241 \n\n\n\nmatter; also, women, very much \xe2\x80\x94 as being greatly \nexposed to the danger of having mere feeling to run \naway with them) is not merely restraint from with- \nout, as from an authority or government external \nto themselves. It is not the arrest upon evil ten- \ndencies that comes through authority \xe2\x80\x94 as the par- \nent\'s, the school-master\'s, the policeman\'s \xe2\x80\x94 but a \nself-restraint, a self-government, that has its foun- \ndations, its laws, its administrations, in the very \nconstitution of the man\'s self. A father once said \nto me of his boy, " I can trust him round the world." \nHis boy deserved this high praise; he had in him \nthis principle of self-restraint \xe2\x80\x94 he was a law unto \nhimself. \n\nNo one can be farther than I am from discredit- \ning outside government \xe2\x80\x94 as that of the family, the \nschool, the Church, the State. But this I do insist \non: all outside government, if it fill its true place, \nhas self-government for its end. \n\nTwo weeks since I received a letter from one of \nour Emory boys, who will, I trust, be with us again \nafter awhile. He is working his way, teaching \nschool by day, studying by night, and so, by force \nof manliness, winning from poverty the opportunity \nof education. Sometimes he has given way to de- \nspondency, but he is getting the victory. Among \nother very sensible things, he wrote: 64 The hard \npart is in building up manhood within" He is be- \nginning to understand what St. Paul is talking of \nin his letter to Titus. \n\nNot long ago a gentleman, living in one of our \nGeorgia cities, said to me: "If I were not afraid to \n16 \n\n\n\n242 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\ntrust my boy away from his mother, I would send \nhim to college." I said in answer: "Your son must \nlearn to stand alone ; more boys have been saved at \nChristian colleges than have ever been spoiled at \nthem." On one occasion a good woman told me \nshe wanted to come to Oxford and stay with her \nson till he finished his college course. I said to her, \n" Your boy will likely do better without you than \nwith you/\' How she stared at me with flashing \neyes, her maternal soul making indignant protest. \nBut I was right. \n\nI hear much about the danger of evil companion- \nship, and I have seen much of it. But this I do say, \nand do you, young men, remember it: The youth \nwho goes down easily under the pressure of temp- \ntation has himself to blame. He lacks self-restraint, \nself-government. A gay fellow asks you to go on a \nspree with him ; to drink, and to do other bad things. \nYou go, and say in defense, " the boys persuaded \nme." That will not do ; it is a cowardly plea. What \nwere you doing while they were persuading? \n\nThere is no help for it in this world, and there \nought to be no help for it ; you must stand on your \nown feet. You cannot be nursed always. Your \ncharacter must have " root in itself; " else you have \nno character at all. Adam and Eve fell out of Eden \nwithout bad companionship; you may, if you \nwill, rise out of this world and return to Eden in \nspite of the companionship you cannot altogether \nescape. \n\nPray tell me how else can you do? You cannot \nget out of this world innocently till God takes you \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n243 \n\n\n\nout. I tell you plainly, if you cannot acquire self- \ngovernment you are lost. That is all. \n\nThe good things in our Christian civilization may \nbecome occasions of evil. We have in our time all \nmanner of societies to help men do right; we are \nmuch given to systems of cooperative morality. I \nsay no word against these good societies; much \ngood they do, no doubt. But if young men trust in \nthem altogether, they become a delusion and a snare. \nThey must trust in themselves also; above all, in \nGod. Whenever a society weakens the sense of \npersonal responsibility and enfeebles a man\'s true \nindividuality, it has become a curse to him. \n\nBy all means avoid occasions of evil; it is foolish \nto invite temptation; it is wicked to give assigna- \ntions to Satan. For it is still written, " Thou shalt \nnot tempt the Lord thy God." \n\nIt is wise and useful to seek all good influences. \nSeek them diligently, but not chiefly for the defense \nand support they bring you, but for the nurture \nthat is in them. Seek them that you may grow \nstrong in yourself. After a time a cripple must \nthrow his crutch away; else he will always be a \ncripple. \n\nAbove all things, " build up manhood within." \nYou may avoid men, and shut yourself up in secret \ncells, but if you have no better guard than an iron \ndoor the enemy will come in ; if you have no better \npreventive against moral infection than isolation, \nyou will perish of secret vices and be consumed \nfrom within. You may stay in your mother\'s room \ntill your head is gray, and if there is no man in you, \n\n\n\n244 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\nno self-restraint, no self-government, you will die \nof moral leprosy there, under her eyes. You must \ngovern yourself, or go down. You are in the broad \nand rapid, and ofttimes turbulent, river of human \nlife; you must swim or sink. \n\nI am now to offer you some arguments in favor of \nsober-mindedness, self-restraint, self-government, a \nbalanced character: \n\n1. The necessity is based in man\'s complex nat- \nure. He is not all animal, nor all intellect, nor all \nspirit. Yet this complexity is so divinely balanced \nthat there need be no confusion, or disorder. Man \n\xe2\x80\x94 the animal \xe2\x80\x94 with appetites, passions, instincts; \nman \xe2\x80\x94 the being \xe2\x80\x94 with intellect, thinking, aspiring, \nseeking knowledge, striving after success, carrying \non the world\'s business; man\xe2\x80\x94 rthe being with a \nsoul \xe2\x80\x94 with many-sided affections, who can love and \nhate, hope and fear, suffer and enjoy, who is capable \nof right and wrong, who can be holy, and who can be \nwicked ; this complex man, yet one person, must be \nin harmony with himself. Each side of him, with all \nits powers, may be (and if he be sober-minded, self- \nrestrained, self-governed, will be) helpful to every \nother side of him, and to the whole man when in his \nplace and fulfilling the law of his life. The body, \nrightly used, helps the mind and the heart; the mind \nhelps the body and the heart ; the heart helps the \nmind and the body \xe2\x80\x94 provided always that each obeys \nits own laws. Then there is harmony, equilibrium, \nhealth, and life. A man showed me in Willimantic, \nConnecticut, a great shaft of twenty-six tons weight, \nturning with almost inconceivable rapidity under the \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men* \n\n\n\n245 \n\n\n\npower delivered upon it from two great wheels \xe2\x80\x94 one \ndriven by water and one by steam \xe2\x80\x94 itself propagat- \ning this vast power through fifty thousand whirling \nspindles. Yet it was so nicely balanced that by push- \ning against the end of it with a common pencil it \nwas moved lengthwise half an inchj returning to its \nplace without noise or jar the instant the pressure \nwas withdrawn. It is in God\'s conception and plan \nof human life that it should, with vaster powers, be \nin perfect equilibrium. It is too plain to argue that \nwhere a machine is out of balance the greater \nits power and the swifter its motion the greater its \ndisorder and the completer its ruin. It is sin that \nthrows man out of balance. Its issue is disorder, \nconfusion, endless riot, irreparable breakage, ruin \ncomplete, death without hope, and damnation with- \nout deliverance. \n\n2. The necessity of sober-mindedness, self-re- \nstraint, self-government, is obvious from the nature \nof the appetites and desires themselves. They are \nimpulses, and they are both blind and deaf. There \nis no more reason, or conscience, or will in them \nthan there is in the attractions and repulsions of \nelectricity. They know nothing, they care for \nnothing, but their special objects. They are impa- \ntient, clamorous, eager, imperious. They made \nReuben, eldest born of the patriarch Jacob, their \nslave. The dying father, leaning on his staff while \nhe blessed his children and "told them that which \nshould befall them in the last days," touched the \nplace of fatal weakness in Reuben, and left a warn- \ning for us all. " Boiling over as water" (for this, \n\n\n\n246 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men, \n\n\n\nsome of the best Hebrew scholars tell us, is the cor- \nrect rendering), 46 thou shalt not excel." Reuben \nwas the slave of his lower nature* and there was no \nhope for him. But God has not left us to the dom- \nination of the blind forces that work within us. \nThey must be governed from the higher nature, and \nthey can be so governed \xe2\x80\x94 governed so w r ell that \nthey become the ministers of our better lives. In- \ntellect must see what passion cannot see ; conscience \nmust feel what passion cannot feel; the sovereign \nwill must give the w T ord of law and sway the scep- \nter of dominion. \n\n3. Self-restraint is necessary lest man\'s lower nat- \nure get the mastery of his higher nature. The lower \nnature \xe2\x80\x94 with its appetites, passions, instincts, de- \nsires \xe2\x80\x94 is in itself innocent. Sin comes in when the \nservant becomes master. If the lower nature get \nthe mastery, then the whole man is pulled down. \nIf the higher, then the whole man is lifted up. \nWhen the lower nature governs, then the man grav- \nitates out of his true sphere into the sphere of \nbeasts and devils. I say beasts and devils, for there \nare in man powers which, abused and perverted, \ntend not only to the sphere of beasts, but to the \nsphere of devils. It is not a rhetorical phrase and \nparade of w T ords I use; it is the bald statement of \nan appalling truth and fact. The animal part of us \ntends to bestialism, and the lower intellect tends to \ndemonism when the higher man of reason and con- \nscience and will is dethroned. Bulwer\'s Margrave \nwas both a beast and a demon. It is significant and \nmarvelously instructive that the demons felt at home \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n247 \n\n\n\nin the swine when they had long reigned in the \nman of Gadara. Upon what intimate and easy \nterms do Satan and his familiars find themselves \nwith one who gives rein to his lower nature \xe2\x80\x94 who \ndoes not control, w r ho is controlled by it. Every \ngate is open to them; every sense becomes an inlet \nto a broad avenue; they go and come at their own \nWill, bearing master-keys that unlock all doors. Of \nsuch a man it may be truly said, He has sold his \nsoul to the devil, and the proof of the purchase is \nthat Satan rules the mind and the higher nature \nthrough the lower and all the instincts that bind soul \nand body together. This is the meaning of much of \nthe tragedy that is in human life. It is the mean- \ning that is in the Faust and the legends of many na- \ntions of infernalpartnerships between Satan and men. \nCommenting on the words of the demoniac of \nGadara, addressed to our Lord, Dean Trench has \nwell expressed a fearful truth exemplified in the ex- \nperience of thousands of our sin-cursed race: "In \nhis reply, \'My name is Legion, for we are many, truth \nand error are fearfully blended. Not on one side \nonly, but on every side, the walls of his spirit have \nbeen broken down, and he laid open to all the in- \ncursions of evil, torn asunder in infinite ways, now \nunder one hostile and hated power, now r under an- \nother. The destruction is complete; they who rule \nover him are \xc2\xa3 lords many.\' Only by an image \ndrawn from the reminiscences of his former life can \nhe express his sense of his own condition. He had \nseen the serried ranks of a Roman legion, that fear- \nful instrument of conquest, that sign of terror and \n\n\n\n24S \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\nfear to the conquered nations, and before which the \nJew more especially quailed. Even such, at once \none and many, cruel, and inexorable, and strong, \nwere the powers that were tyrannizing over him." \n\nI am now to present to you some considerations \nthat should persuade you to accept St. Paul\'s advice, \nand to make it a principle of your life. \n\n1. It is advice. Advice is the only substitute for \nthe wisdom that comes through experience. Think \nof it, young friends, you need the wisdom of expe- \nrience now more than you can ever need it again, \nand you have less of it than you will ever have \nhereafter. For you are now at the beginning, and \nthe ending is. for the most part, infolded in the \nbeginning, just as the tree is infolded in the acorn. \n\nWhat are you to do? I will tell you what Satan \nwill tempt you to do. It is to be headstrong \xe2\x80\x94 rather, \npassion-strong and head-weak. \n\nTake the risk? says one. What *s the need? You \ndo not take such risks in less important matters. \nAVhy do not electricians repeat Franklin\'s experi- \nment with the kite? It has been made and needs \nnot to be made again. You take up science where \nyour predecessors laid it down; you begin with \nwhat they have proved and go on to prove more. \nApply the principle to the science of human life. \nTake the advice of those who know. You would \nnot wish to make an ocean voyage with the captain \nof a ship who scorned the knowledge of an. expe- \nrienced pilot, preferring to guess his way among \nshallows and rocks. \n\n2. Our argument commends St. Paul\'s advice not \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. 249 \n\n\n\nmerely as to the right subordination of our lower \nnature, but as to our whole course of life and prin- \nciples of conduct. Self-restraint, which is sober- \nmindedness, is necessary lest we shape our plans, \nmake our decisions, and determine our lines of ac- \ntion on mere impulse, whim, caprice; by the clamors \nof some sin-governed appetite, some inordinate de- \nsire. So decided Esau when he sold his birthright. \nHe was hungry, and before him was the savory mess \nof pottage. Hunger seized the reins. Honor, grat- \nitude, piety \xe2\x80\x94 these were trampled under foot; the \nanimal in him triumphed in a paroxysm of blind \nand mindless impulse. And then, through long \nand unhappy years, the higher man looked back \nwith bitter remorse upon the folly and sin of one \nhour\'s indulgence, seeking, with scalding tears, a \nplace for repentance and finding none. \n\nStudy Esau\'s case, young men; you are greatly \nprone to decide the gravest questions on the merest \nwhims, to do things for which you can give no good \nreason, and for which you never can give any rea- \nson. A dozen times, during the years I have been \nin Emory College, have I had, as explanation, this \nanswer from a wayward and foolish boy, throwing \naway his opportunity of education : "01 do n\'t \nknow; somehow I am dissatisfied." This would \nbe answer enough from a mere animal moving, with- \nout wisdom of choice, from one place to another, \nbut it is not a fit word for a man to say. \n\nYoung men, if you live to middle-life \xe2\x80\x94 to say \nnothing of old age, or of eternity \xe2\x80\x94 you will hold a \n"judgment-day" of your own, and upon yourselves. \n\n\n\n250 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men, \n\n\n\nYou are now twenty, may be younger. You decide \nunder the dictation of a blind impulse some grave \nmatter; your decision will show its influence on \nevery day of your whole after-life. You take the \nbit in your teeth; you will have no advice. Very \nwell; you Will have your way for a time, and then \nyour way will have you. When you are forty, it \nmay be, but some time, sure, you will review your \ncase. Then you will summon passion and preju- \ndice and the whole troop of your whimsical follies \nto the judgment-bar of conscience and reason. You \nwill convict the culprit; he will be punished. Alas, \nhe cannot then pay what he will owe! \n\nTo save ourselves from the fatal blunders and \nmisjudgrnents which issue from capricious and \nAvhimsical decisions, and from the multiform and \ncountless evils that follow them, we need not simply \nthoughtful moments, but a fixed habit of thought- \nfulness, sober-mindedness, self-restraint. Without \nthe habitj we are liable to break down at any \nmoment of pressure. It is the fixed habit of self- \nrestraint that stores up in the character reserved \npower against the day of trial, jiist as it is the train- \ning of years of service that gives the veteran sea- \ncaptain nerve and skill to carry his ship safely \nthrough the fury of tempests when they break upon \nhim. We may be sure that the strength of char- \nacter that meets and survives a supreme trial may \nnot, by any effort of will, be summoned when the \nemergency is upon us. \n\nI suggest, in conclusion, some helps in the forma- \ntion of a fixed habit of self-restraint. \n\n\n\nSt. Paxil to Young Men* \n\n\n\n251 \n\n\n\nYou ask, How am I to secure the mastery of \nmy lower self? to form this fixed habit of self- \ngovernment? I will try to help you to the right \nanswer. \n\n1. Make up the issue now, Find out which is \nthe real master, the lower or the higher nature \nwithin you \xe2\x80\x94 the animal or the spiritual man. \nStudy your own case; then you will understand the \nmethod of treatment. To change the figure, con- \nsider well which side of your fortress of " Man- \nsoul" is weakest* Then you will know on which \nside to set your watch against the devil. For he \nwill make his attack on that side. Remember the \nsoldier\'s maxim, "The strength of a fortress is \nmeasured by its weakest side." \n\nLet me show you what I mean by making the \nissue. I suppose a dase which I trust may not fit \nyour experience. You are disposed to be a drunk- \nard. You are warned by some friend, both wise \nand loving. You answer, " I can\'t help it." Now, \ndo you mean that? Then the animal part of you \nis master, and the higher man must rise up and do \nquick and fierce battle. He must conquer, or the \nwhole man dies. That despotic beast of a body \xe2\x80\x94 \nfor when it gets control of a man it is a mere beast \n\xe2\x80\x94 will, like the blind Samson, pull down ruin upon \nthe whole man. \n\nI will suppose another case, and I speak of it \nwith shuddering horror. You are given to licen- \ntiousness; the fearful habit is fixing itself upon you. \nUnchaste thoughts inflame your blood; unchaste \ndeeds are fixing the perdition of a licentious char- \n\n\n\n252 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\nacter upon your whole manhood. The warning \nvoice cries to you, " Stop right there! \xe2\x80\x94 that path you \ntread leads down to death; it takes hold on hell." \nYou answer, "I can\'t stop." Do you mean that in \nsober earnest? Then the beast, the mere brute \nbeast in you, is master. The battle is on you. Now \ngather up all your energies, brace yourself for a \nmighty struggle; you are in the arena, the wild \nbeasts are upon you. Do or die. \n\n2. Begin. No matter what the issue is about, \nbegin now self-restraint, self-government. You are \nnot to treat your instinctive appetites and desires \nas if they were demons to be driven out. You are \nto use them as ministers to your higher life. To be \nsuch they must be subordinate; they become demons \nonly when they become masters. \n\nI say, Begin. It may be so simple a thing, so \ncommonplace a thing as overeating. What you \nw^ant to do now is not to destroy the appetite for \nfood, but to regulate it. Whatever the case is, \nbegin. \n\n3. As a very great aid in this effort to fix the \nhabit of self-restraint, make it the rule of all your \nthinking to try to find out the very truth of things. \nElse appearances will be always deceiving you. \nOne instance, as illustration, I mention: Are you \nabout to become a slave to your ambition? A clear \nview of the realities of things \xe2\x80\x94 of life and death, \nof time and eternity \xe2\x80\x94 will quickly abate the inten- \nsity of the fevered dream. \n\n4. Learn to wait. If your life-plans leave out the \nlong-run, they are childish. If you live worthily, \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\n253 \n\n\n\nyou can afford to wait, and waiting will mightily \nbelp you to learn your difficult lesson of self-re- \nstraint. \n\n5. Dig down till you strike the granite. You \nwill need the brace of one grand truth and law, too \noften overlooked, but without whose uplifting power \nno human life ever yet rose into lofty proportions. \nLearn then that he who loves and obeys God can \nsuffer no fatal hurt from any fate in any world. \nThis brings me to say that the self-restraint, the \nself-government, which I am trying to commend to \nyou cannot exist if we leave out of view eternity \nand its high motives. \n\n6. You expect me to speak to-day of the relations \nof experimental religion to self-restraint. Not to- \nday. We tell you that every time we meet in this \nplace. We do this every time we speak of religion; \nevery time we preach repentance and obedience; \nevery time we tell the story of "the "Word made \nflesh." It is enough to say to-day: You cannot \nsucceed without God\'s help. Without Christ work- \ning in you, the lower will be too strong for the high- \ner nature. But where he comes in, the evil spirits \ngo out. \n\nYou can get help if you want it. Sin abounds; \ngrace much more. " They that be with you are \nmore than they that are with them." It is by \nfaith, by prayer, by obedience, by the work of the \nHoly Ghost, that you prevail. It is by religion \npenetrating every thought and plan of life, perme- \nating every fiber of your manhood. It is the " mind \nthat was in Christ " dwelling in you. \n\n\n\n254 \n\n\n\nSt. Paul to Young Men. \n\n\n\nJust now I spoke of equilibrium \xe2\x80\x94 of a balanced \nlife and character. It is not a fancy. Where Christ\'s \nwill becomes the governing principle in body, mind, \nand spirit, then we have such perfect adjustments \nof relations, and such blessed harmonies of life, as \nshame the fabled music of the spheres. \n\n\n\nQUIT YOU LIKE MEN, \n\n[OXFORD, MARCH 26, 1882-DURING THE GREAT REVIVAL.] \n\n\n\n"Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong. \nLet all your things be done with charity. 5 \' 1 Cor. xvi. 13, 14. \n\nTHERE are few things in this world more inter- \nesting than a genuine revival of religion. A \nreligious awakening attracts the people as nothing \nelse does. No matter who gives direction to such \na meeting, no matter who it is that asks the atten- \ntion of the people, no matter where its wonders are \nwrought \xe2\x80\x94 whether in the city or in the woods, no \nmatter what class of people are drawn into it \xe2\x80\x94 \nwhether the cultured or the unlettered \xe2\x80\x94 there is one \nuniform result, a genuine revival attracts the people \nlike a great magnet. There may be the eloquence \nof Maffitt, the illiterate zeal of Harrison, the ear- \nnest persistence and hard sense of Moody, the bizarre \nextravagances of the captains of the "Salvation \nArmy," but after all it is the revival itself that at- \ntracts. If there be a profound religious awakening \nin any community, there will be crowded houses, no \nmatter who preaches, or whether anybody preaches. \n\nIt is not mere curiosity that attracts the crowd; \nit is something deeper and stronger. It is first of \nall an interest in men. Whatever stirs a man\'s \nheart profoundly interests his brother-man, whether \n\n(255) \n\n\n\n256 \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\nit be joy or grief, a deep conviction of sin, or a rapt- \nurous joy in deliverance from it, or even the gain or \nloss of earthly fortunes. \n\nBut this is not all; except on the one subject of \nreligion, men presently tire of any subject. There \nis no political, or social, or commercial question that \ncan draw the people, night after night, as a revival \ndraws and holds them. Let the most wise and elo- \nquent man in the United States attempt to hold the \nsame audience for thirty consecutive nights in the \ndiscussion of the same subject. He would lose his \naudience. Let thirty of the ablest try the experi- \nment, a new man coming forward each night. How \nlong would they hold the attention of the multi- \ntude? But we have seen churches crowded night \nafter night for many weeks, when there was neither \nlearning to instruct nor eloquence to move the peo- \nple; when there was only exhortation, w T ith endless \niteration of appeals, with singing of a kind to throw \nmusicians and singers into despair. \n\nThe truth is this: There is no subject, there never \nwas in any age or nation any subject, about which \nmen can think, that has such a hold upon human \nnature as religion \xe2\x80\x94 as man\'s relation to the invisible \nand eternal powers. It is, in its last analysis, the \nthought of God in the human consciousness \xe2\x80\x94 a \nthought the most deeply fixed and the hardest to \nshake off \xe2\x80\x94 that explains the marvelous attracting \npower of a general and deep religious awakening. \n\nWe have seen many revivals in Oxford. God\'s \nseal of approval has rested on this Christian Col- \nlege from the beginning to this good time. Since \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\n257 \n\n\n\n1856 I have shared in the labors and rewards of \nmost of these meetings. In essence they have been \nalike, but different in their characteristic manifesta- \ntions. It is so always in all Churches. In some \nrevivals we have a great deal of noise and witness \nmany expressions of emotional excitement. Others, \nin all respects as genuine, and in many respects \nmore satisfactory, are noiseless and calm. People \nwill differ in opinion as to the value of this or that \nphase of religious experience and expression. They \ndiffer about these things as they differ about all \nother things \xe2\x80\x94 it is largely a matter of nerves and \ntemperament. \n\nIt is a matter of small moment whether our per- \nsonal tastes are satisfied as to these things; it is a \nmatter of great moment that we do not confound \nthe manifestations of religious excitement with re- \nligion itself. If we begin to dogmatize about such \nthings we talk foolishly; if we are so blind and \nnarrow as to demand conformity to our peculiar \nnotions, we become irrational and do hurt to God\'s \ncause, and hinder and mar his gracious work in the \nsouls of men. Immeasurable evil has been done by \nzealots in their demand that all others should feel \njust as they do, and manifest feeling just as they do. \n\nThis common sense should teach us: There is no \nmore reason for demanding that every revival of \nreligion or that every religious experience should \nhave the same manifestations than there is in de- \nmanding sameness in other things. But, strictly \nspeaking, we do not find sameness anywhere in nat- \nure or mind. \n17 \n\n\n\n258 \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\nDid God ever make two things alike, so that no \ndifference can be detected? There are not two hu- \nman eyes so alike that two other eyes cannot see \ntheir differences, nor two human faces. Each voice \nhas something its own. There are not two blades \nof grass exactly alike, nor two leaves. "As much \nalike as two black-eyed peas," we sometimes say, \nBut they are not alike; the eye shows some differ- \nences; a microscope shows many. Take two very \nsmall grains of sand and try them with a micro- \nscope; they are as different as two hills or mount- \nains. And it is so throughout the works of God in \nthe world around us. There were never two human \nminds exactly alike. I do not think that there are \nor ever were in the entire universe two things just \nalike. \n\nLet us take one other illustration \xe2\x80\x94 the diversity \nin manifestation of emotions excited by other sub- \njects that interest and move men. A few years ago \nthere was a long contest before the General Assem- \nbly of Georgia for the office of United States Sena- \ntor. The contest lasted through many days of in- \ncreasing excitement. Men worked for their favorites \nas if their lives depended on success. When the \nlast ballot showed that Mr. Hill was elected, there \nwas a scene that rivaled the wildest camp-meeting \noutbreaks that ever excited the jeers of unbelievers. \nSome clapped their hands, some stamped the floor, \nsome laughed, some cried, some yelled; one man, it \nis said, threw his hat into the air; two embraced; \nand one, it is affirmed, shouted " Glory!" at the top \nof his voice. But many sat perfectly still, and very \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\n259 \n\n\n\nlikely they had been the most efficient workers in \nbringing about the result that gave them as much \npleasure as the noisy men felt. This sort of thing \ndepends on the nerves and other such things. \n\nOne of my old friends here is troubled about me; \nindeed, he has kindly taken me in hand. He thinks \nthat I am u opposed to shouting." He mistakes \nme. I neither favor nor oppose it. This I mean : \nit is nothing in itself. It becomes important if peo- \nple make its presence or absence a test or measure \nof a meeting, or of an experience. This also may \nbe added: sometimes very good people shout so \nmuch that they have little strength left to help \nthose who are still in bondage; indeed, in the nerv- \nous collapse that frequently follows a vigorous shout- \ning experience there is not enough spiritual or other \nforce left to help anybody. On this point allow \nsome caution to these young disciples: Do not com- \nmit the blunder of trying to realize in your own \nconsciousness what you imagine to be the peculiari- \nties of other people\'s experience, Do not make \nyourselves so absurd as to ridicule people who ex- \npress their religious emotions by shouting; do not \ncommit the intolerant absurdity of doubting the \nreligion of persons who make no demonstrations to \nyour eyes or ears whatsoever. \n\nThe very notable and wide-spread revival-meet- \ning, in which we have rejoiced, and in which we \nhave been blessed, has its own characteristics. I \nmention some that are obvious to us all. We have \nheard little noise, we have seen many tears. There \nhas been little that is called preaching; there has \n\n\n\n260 \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Mk \n\n\n\nbeen a great deal of " giving testimony." The meet- \ning has had next to nothing of " management;" its \nmethods have been simple and unstudied to the \nlast degree. There has been absolutely no clap- \ntrap, no sensationalism ; there has been earnestness, \ndevoutness, thoroughness. The preachers have borne \nonly their part in the services; the meeting has been \nopen to all, and the praying people have seemed to \nfeel heavily " the burden of souls." \n\nHow glad and grateful we are to-day! To many \nof us there was never such a Sunday as this before. \nWith many of you this is the first Sunday that ever \nawakened in your hearts the sentiment of sacred- \nness. Many of you can say to-day, as never before, \n" I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go \ninto the house of the Lord." \n\nI cannot be silent this morning as I think of the \ngreat blessing that has so lately come upon some of \nyou dear to us as life itself. There are two events \nthat make fathers and mothers know how much \nthey love their children. I have experienced both. \nOne is death; the other is conversion. Which \nevent wakes the deepest fountain of parental love I \ndo not know. In neither case can mere words tell \nwhat the heart feels. But I know that some of you \nhere, and that many in their distant homes who \nhave had glad news from their boys at Emory, join \nme this morning, with joy unutterable, in saj 7 ing \nwith the psalmist, "Bless the Lord, my soul; and \nall that is within me, bless his holy name! " \n\nThe conversion of our children, or of a friend\'s \nchildren, is an occasion of great joy, but it does not \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\n261 \n\n\n\nterminate our solicitude for them. Some knowl- \nedge of their dangers makes us anxious. We re- \njoice that the ship is well launched, but we know \nalso that the sea is wide, and deep, and stormy. \n\nYoung people are objects of affectionate interest \nbecause they are young. But religious young peo- \nple make a double demand upon our sympathy and \ninterest. There is so much to hope for in them, \nand the world needs them so much. Upon wed- \nding - days, and upon other occasions of happy \nworldly fortunes, we are accustomed to offer our \ncongratulations to the fortunate ones. This morn- \ning let me offer congratulations to those of you who \nhave begun the new life. \n\n\n\nJust before Paul wrote the Epistle that contains \nour text, there had been a great religious awaken- \ning in Corinth \xe2\x80\x94 one of the proudest, richest, and \nmost sinful cities of ancient Greece. The apostle is \ndeeply concerned for the stability of the young con- \nverts. He writes them from Philippi the exhorta- \ntion of the text: " Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, \nquit you like men, be strong. Let all your things \nbe done with charity." In the same spirit he wrote \nto the young believers among the Galatians : " Stand \nfast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath \nmade us free, and be not entangled again with \nthe yoke of bondage." And to the Philippians \nalso: "Therefore, my brethren dearly beloved and \nlonged for, my joy and crown, so stand fast in the \nLord, my dearly beloved." \n\nLet us consider briefly St. Paul\'s exhortation. \n\n\n\n262 \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\nWatch ye. There is constant need, and always \nwill be, for temptations will come to you \xe2\x80\x94 they will \ncome to you as long as you are in this world. But \nthere is the greater need for you to watch, seeing \nthat the young Christian is not fortified against \nthem by habits of faith, of virtue, and obedience. \n\nStand fast in the faith. This is the image of a \nsoldier enduring a fierce assault and holding his \nground. What is it they are to stand fast in? The \nfaith. This does not mean standing by a form of \nwords \xe2\x80\x94 merely defending a creed, merely maintain- \ning orthodoxy. Some men fight very fiercely for \ntheir orthodoxy when they have lost their religion. \nNor does the apostle mean to say to these young \nChristians, Maintain a certain mood of feeling. This \ncannot be done; if it were practicable, it is wholly \nundesirable. Constant ecstasy would unfit us for \nthe service both of God and man. I said a mood \nof religious feeling cannot be maintained; the rea- \nson is that no mood of feeling can be maintained. \nThe constitution of our nervous systems makes this \nimpossible. Last week, last night, may be this \nmorning, you were, or are, what you call "happy." \nYou received what was called a "great blessing." \nYou rejoiced in it; very well, but do not try to re- \ncall just that feeling for its own sake. Right there, \non one of those front benches, some years ago I \nheard a young man, who had been a happy Chris- \ntian and had then fallen, into bad ways, make this \nprayer, "0 Lord, make me just as happy as I was \nthis time twelve months ago." I whispered to him, \n"You have no business to pray to be made happy; \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Mes^ \n\n\n\n263 \n\n\n\npray God to forgive your backsliding and to make \nyou strong." \n\nI solemnly believe that more backsliding begins \nin the effort to stand fast in a certain mood of feel- \ning than in any thing else. In the nature of things \nfeelings are inconstant; they have their rising and \ntheir falling tides. As well forbid the ebb-tide its \nmovement seaward as to try to maintain a fixed \nemotion. Feeling cannot abide; conviction and \npurpose and practice may. Feeling is only indi- \nrectly within the sphere of our volitions; our pur- \nposes, resolutions, efforts, are completely in that \nsphere. Wherefore we are responsible for our con- \nvictions, resolutions, and efforts, and are not called \nto account for our emotions, whether they be de- \npressed or exultant. Moreover, the state of the \nfeelings depends largely on the state of one\'s health. \nI remember at a class-meeting in my early ministry \nthe saintliest woman in a certain Church, who gave \na lamentable account of her spiritual state. She \nfelt badly, and was trying to maintain good feelings \nin her religion; because she could not, she feared \nthat she had grieved the Spirit. Every token in \nher case revealed a badly disordered liver; I recom- \nmended a medicine good for such a case, and it \nhelped her much. \n\nLast night some of you were up to a late hour; \nyou were singing and rejoicing together. This \nmorning you feel dull and sleepy; your emotions \nare sluggish. What does this signify? That you \nwere deceived last night? that you have lost the \nblessing of pardon and the new life God gave you? \n\n\n\n264 \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\nNo; it means only collapse in your nervous system. \nI warn you against the fatal error of testing your \nreal religious condition by your feelings. Stand \nfast in the faith, in the truth of the gospel, and in a \nworthy rule and principle of living. \n\nPlay the man. Religion has its gentle virtues, as \npatience, meekness, kindliness, and such like. And \nthey are essential. You cannot cultivate them too \ncarefully. These gentle virtues are not inconsistent \nwith manliness; far otherwise, they support and \nnourish manliness. There are many false and wide- \nspread delusions on this subject. Many young men \nhave strangely come to think that a religious man \nis somehow or other not quite manly. Many shrink \nfrom religion from a half-conscious feeling that in \nbecoming religious they surrender part of their \nmanliness. There never was a greater delusion and \nmisconception. There is nothing worthy of a real \nman, nothing that such a man ought to be or to do, \nthat religion does not approve and sustain. You \nmay make your analysis as exhaustive as you please. \nThere is no true manliness, no quality of character \nor habit of life that will stand all tests, that is not \nin sympathy with religion. \n\nPlease to remember that the phrase, "quit you \nlike men " \xe2\x80\x94 play the man \xe2\x80\x94 has a generic sense. It \nappeals to women as well as to men. True woman- \nliness and true manliness rest on the same founda- \ntions. .... The exhortation means, when you get \nto the bottom of it, Be true to your nature. What \nnature? Your Christian nature. See that your \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\n265 \n\n\n\nwhole life grows in harmony with this higher law \nof life that you have received. "The law of the \nSpirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made you free \nfrom the law of sin and death. 5 \' Be true to this \n"law of the Spirit of life" within you, and you will \n"quit you like men." \n\nA goodly number of you expect to preach the \ngospel. Let me turn aside and say a special word \nto you. There are some unmanly things in some \npreachers that I would affectionately warn you \nagainst. \n\n1. An overconscioilsness of the sacrifices you \nmake in being preachers. I remember to have \nheard a man talk much on one occasion of the sac- \nrifices he had made in becoming an itinerant preach- \ner. It was cant; the itinerant ministry had taken \nhim from the corn-field, and had made what men \ncalled a gentleman of him. Suppose this ministry \ndoes involve hardships; so does commerce, so does \nevery pursuit in this world that has enough in it to \nemploy the best powers of a man. Drummers out- \ntravel us, and they do this only for money. Do not \nfear that the world will respect you less if you drop \nall sanctimonious whining about your sacrifices; the \nworld is eagle-eyed to see through a sham; it does \nrespect a genuine man, whether in the pulpit or at \nthe plow-handles. \n\n2. I warn you, young brethren, against a frequent \nfault of preachers, over sensitiveness. I have heard it \nsaid that doctors, teachers, and preachers are the \nmost sensitive of men ; that their feelings are most \neasily hurt. I fear that preachers are not the least \n\n\n\n266 Quit You Like Men. \n\n\n\ngiven to this weakness of the three classes named. \nThe explanation is not far to seek. Our vocation \nfar too much isolates us from the busy world. Christ \ndid not, I think, set us this example. We get it \nfrom the middle ages and from the cloisters. We \nare not used to contradiction; the sermon goes on \nto its end without uttered criticism. When differ- \ning opinions do strike us they are apt to hurt. This \nsort of sensitiveness may reach such a degree of \nintensity as to arrest all healthful mental develop- \nment. \n\n3. Another weakness, perhaps not so common, \nbut too common when it exists at all, is a too fixed \nfeeling and sentiment of dependence, as if you were \nto be considered as the special object of the world\'s \ncharity. Avoid as you would pestilence the feeling \nof a beggar \xe2\x80\x94 the mental habits (to borrow a word \nfrom the street that fits the case) of a mere " dead- \nbeat." Be on your watch against longings for free \nor half-fare tickets on railroads, free meals at hotels, \n"goods under cost," and such like temptations, de- \nlusions, and snares. \n\nThe worst thing about such feelings and the hab- \nits that grow out of them is that it makes you moral \ncowards \xe2\x80\x94 the very last thing a preacher ought to be. \nNo preacher ever learned such ways from St. Paul; \nwe had all of us better go to " tent-making" than \nto be unmanly. (It is not unmanly to receive a \nsupport from the Church for service rendered; the \n" laborer is Worthy of his hire," but the right to \nthe "hire" depends on the labor. And it ought to \nbe so.) \n\n\n\nQuit You Like! Men, \n\n\n\n267 \n\n\n\nAs to all these matters it is, for a young preacher, \nfirst of all, to be a man. Clear a little space about \nyou that you may put your feet firmly clown and \nstand upon them. It will not only help you, it will \nhelp all to whom you preach. Do not allow the \nworld to treat you as a sort of intellectual invalid, \nas a sort of compromise between a man and a wom- \nan. A celebrated wit said there were " three sexes \xe2\x80\x94 \nmen, women, and clergymen." The satire was jus- \ntified by the lives of many of his own rank \xe2\x80\x94 the \nwit was a clergyman. If the world treats you with \na sort of contemptuous deference, it will be because \nyou deserve such treatment. Quit yourselves like \nmen," and the world will treat you like men. \n\nBe strong. Religion does not stop with what we \ncall the gentler virtues; its spirit is heroic. Many \nof St. Paul\'s figures are military, and some of them \nare agonistic. Some of our Lord\'s words ring in \nour hearts like trumpets in the day of battle. Chris- \ntians need courage as well as meekness, fortitude as \nw^ell as patience, energy as well as submission. In \nits root-idea the exhortation "be strong" means \naction, doing, energy. There is no Christian life, \nhowever humble and obscure, that does not allow \nall the work \xe2\x80\x94 and work too of heroic sort \xe2\x80\x94 of which \nthat life is capable. \n\nLet all your things be done in love. A condition of \nChristian living is love. It is a comprehensive \nword. It is love to God and love to man. You \ncannot love aright either God or man unless you \nlove both God and man. \n\n\n\n268 \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\nRead the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians, \nand then live it. \n\n\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2\xc2\xab\xe2\x80\xa2\xe2\x80\xa2*\'\xc2\xbb\xe2\x80\xa2 \n\nSumming it all up, we have a few inferences and \ngeneral conclusions. \n\n1. Religion is a life rooted in principle, inspired \nof the Holy Ghost, guided in its methods by \ncommon sense. It is not a series of ecstasies, \nit is a life of service. The value of a locomotive \nis in its power to draw, and not in the circum- \nstance that it can also make a great noise with its \nwhistle. \n\n2. I said it is a life; therefore it belongs to the \nwhole of life. Your religion claims all \xe2\x80\x94 absolutely \nall of your life. Often I hear you sing, "Every \nhour I need Thee.\'\' That is true, but not merely \nthat you may feel as you wish, but that you be what \nyou should be, and do what you should do. Your \nreligion must go into life \xe2\x80\x94 real, every-day life. It \nbelongs to the field, the workshop, the store, the \nbusiness office, the parlor, politics \xe2\x80\x94 to every thing \nin which a man has a right to concern himself. So \nalso it belongs to the kitchen, the laundry, the nurs- \nery \xe2\x80\x94 to the most fretting and wearing drudgery of \nthe poorest as well as of the richest woman\'s life. \nIt concerns us as husbands, as wives, as parents, as \nchildren, as masters, as servants, as teachers, as pu- \npils. When I was a boy I heard that apostolic man \nof blessed memory, the late Rev. Dr. Lovick Pierce, \nsay in a sermon, "He who is not religious all the \ntime and everywhere is not truly religious any time \nor anywhere." And he was right, St. Paul being \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\n269 \n\n\n\njudge. St. Paul says, " Whatsoever ye do, do all to \nthe glory of God." \n\nReligion is the most intensely practical spirit that \never appeared in the world. \n\n3. On the basis of St. Paul\'s doctrine in our text, \nI am authorized to say, You must make by your \nreligious life some contribution to the emoluments \nof human life. If the world is not better for your \nhaving lived in it, your life is a failure. It is igno- \nble to seek only to save yourselves. \n\n4. You hear much about consecration, and much \nthat is confusing and misleading. STow remember, \nconsecration implies not a state of feeling, but a way \nof living. It means service. St. Luke, in the Acts \nof the Apostles, sums up the biography of Jesus in \na single statement \xe2\x80\x94 "who went about doing good." \n\n5. Finally, for this time: There is no conceivable \nand sensible reason for discouragement or despond- \nency. You can stand fast, you can quit yourselves \nlike men, you can be strong, and you will if you \nreally try in any rational and earnest way. This \ngood Book makes the way plain enough to all who \nwish to know it. You will need help, and help you \nwill have \xe2\x80\x94 help of God and help of man \xe2\x80\x94 if you really \ndesire it. The relation of trustful prayer and of the \nuse of all the "means of grace" to this sort of liv- \ning cannot be pointed out this morning. Some other \ntime we can discuss all these matters. \n\n\n\nBack of the exhortation in our text is the doc- \ntrine of the resurrection and of the immortality of \nthe soul. I conclude with the words with which \n\n\n\n270 \n\n\n\nQuit You Like Men. \n\n\n\nSt. Paul concludes his great argument in the pre- \nceding chapter: "Therefore, my beloved brethren, \nbe ye steadfast, immovable, always abounding in \nthe work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that \nyour labor is not in vain in the Lord." \n\n\n\nTHE PEACE JESUS GIVES. \n\n\n\n[OXFORD, APRIL 9, 1882.] \n\n\n\nf \xe2\x80\xa2 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you ; not as the \nworld giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, \nneither let it be afraid." John xiv. 27. \n\n\n\nF these words Luther says, " These are the last \n\n\n\nV_y words, as of one who is going away and gives \nhis good-night, or blessing." " Peace be unto thee" \nwas the friendly farewell and greeting in Israel in \nthe ordinary partings and meetings of common life. \nVery often it was conventional and formal only, as \nour "good-by" \xe2\x80\x94 God be with you \xe2\x80\x94 not seldom \nmeans only a conventional courtesy. But these \nwords of Jesus seem to breathe on weary and troub- \nled spirits a divine rest. There had been, we think, \na tender pause in these last loving words of our \nLord. When he speaks again he says: " Peace I \nleave with you, my peace I give unto you; not as \nthe world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your \nheart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." \n\nThere are three things in what He says concern- \ning peace that lift his words into a higher sphere \nthan the ordinary salutations and partings of mere \nfriends belong to. First, it is "my peace;" second- \nly, "I give you peace;" thirdly, "not as the world \ngiveth." \n\n\n\n\n(271) \n\n\n\n272 \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\nIt is not the world\'s peace, it is Christ\'s; and \nChrist\'s because he gives it. \n\n1. It was to give peace to a warring and troubled \nworld that Jesus came among men. So had all the \nprophets foretold, and the psalmists and holy sing- \ners. Even heathen sages and poets had dreamed \nand sung of a peace to men that the gods would \nsome day send them. The song of the angels over \nstar-lit Bethlehem set to heavenly music the hope \nand longing of the world: "And suddenly there \nwas with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host \npraising God, and saying, Glory to God in the high- \nest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men." \nAmong the beatitudes we find these words : " Blessed \nare the peace-makers, for they shall be called the \nchildren of God." He himself said, "The Son of \nman is come to send peace on the earth." Nor is \nall this contradicted by his sterner speech, "I am \ncome not to bring peace, but a sword." \n\nOne little learned in the Scriptures must see the \nharmony of these words. It means only that his \ncoming would become, by the wrong use or abuse \nor rejection of his gospel, the occasion of divisions. \nAnd that the great disturber of the world\'s peace, \nwhich is sin, must first be driven out before real \npeace could find a resting-place in the human heart. \nJ ust as painful and disagreeable remedies are need- \nful to restore the sick to health. This necessity of \ndriving out sin first of all sometimes brings a sharp \nand agonizing conflict. Satan goes not out willing- \nly, but must ever be driven out. You remember \nthat demoniac boy brought to Jesus. Before leav- \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\n273 \n\n\n\ning him the devil threw him down and tore him \ndreadfully. It is so now \xe2\x80\x94 the demon-spirits of pride \nand envy and jealousy and hatred tear the soul from \nwhich the word of Jesus drives them out. But go \nthey must, or there can be no peace. \n\nWherefore I say, there is no contradiction when \nHe speaks of bringing a sword, and of kindling a \ntire. The sword cuts down and slays the monsters \nthat keep the heart in a state of war, and the fire, \nas it burns up the dross, leaves the pure gold reflect- \ning the beauty of the King\'s face. \n\nWherefore I say again, Jesus came into the world \nto give it peace. You cannot take the words too \nbroadly. He came to give peace to the world. \n\n(1) He came in a special sense to give peace to \nhuman hearts, which have been the most disturbed \nthings in the universe. All lives have in them the \nelements of tragedies, and many lives are tragedies. \nHuman hearts, using this word in its wide Bible \nmeaning, are dearer to God than all else that he has \nmade. In them we find more of his image. Giving \npeace to them is Christ\'s delight. \n\n(2) The peace he gives to men\'s hearts is a peace \nthat goes with righteousness and right-living. And \nthis means peace to families, that can no more be at \ntrue peace without Christ than can individual hearts. \nHe came also to give peace to communities, and to \nnations, and to the race. And the song of the au- \ngels shall some day become a fulfilled prophecy and \na realized promise all round the world. Where \nChrist is King there must be peace. \n\nWe do not discuss the blessed doctrine to-day, but \n18 \n\n\n\n274 \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\nnothing can induce me to give up the inspiring \nhope that cheers the heart of humanity that in some \ngolden day to come the " nations shall learn war \nno more." \n\nI quote another wise word from Luther: "No \nman has peace unless things are with him as they \nshould be. Therefore in the Hebrew tongue this \nlittle word peace means nothing else but thriving \nand prospering." This brings me to speak a mo- \nment of our need of peace. Till Christ comes and \nreigns, it cannot be said of any man, or house, or \ncommunity ? or nation, "Things are as they should \nbe." \n\nWe will never settle the conundrums about the \norigin of evil\xe2\x80\x94 the genesis of sin. \n\nThere is a Babel of tongues that wag out their \nanswers, such as they are, but for the most part we \nhad as well ask the cold and silent Sphinx gazing \nwith stony eyes on the barren and dead sands. \nBut nothing in the w T orld is plainer, nothing is more \nabsolutely certain, than that in this world, and in \nmost men, " things are not as they should be." Call \nit by what name you will, refuse to use the old Bible \nname "Sin" if it please your philosophy, but the \nfact remains \xe2\x80\x94 whether you give it any name \xe2\x80\x94 that \nthere actually is a vast deal of wrongness in the \nworld, and in us every one. Infinitely more impor- \ntant to us than the question of its origin is the \nquestion of its end. How it came into the world is \na very small question compared to this: How can it \nbe gotten out of the world? In what way would it \nhelp us in our conflict to know how sin came into \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\n275 \n\n\n\nthe world at all ? We know God did not bring it. \nThis is one case in which we can prove a negative. \n\nWhen our Lord speaks of giving us his peace, he \nmeans nothing less than a heart, and a house, and \na community, and a world, from which sin has been \ndriven out. It must be so, for sin and peace cannot \nlive together, and Jesus knew no sin. If we have \nhis peace, we have deliverance from sin. The con- \nverse is true; as sure as there is such a thing as sin \nso sure is it that where there is no peace there is, in \nsome form, sin. The Old Testament words are aptly \nchosen : Where "peace flows like a river, righteous- \nness flows like the waves of the sea." \n\nMy peace! The words are as simple as words can \nbe. But how deep and broad is their meaning! As \nonce before I told you, in reading the life of Jesus \nthe one thing that impresses us most is not his \nmatchless wisdom, not his divine power, but his \npurity. Next to this, perhaps, is the impression \nthat this Man is at rest in mind, his heart is full of \npeace. And we always connect, in our thoughts, \nhis peace with his purity. \n\nLet us understand then that when Jesus speaks \nto us of peace he is speaking also of purity. \n\n2. Jesus gives peace. He does not say simply, I \nleave you peace, but I give you peace. \n\nThere never was in this world any other who \nhas appeared in human form who could give peace \nto men. For no man can give what he does not \nhave as his own. No man has peace whose fount- \nain is within himself. We must all say, with the \npsalmist, "All my springs are in Thee/\' \n\n\n\n276 \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\nThere is no story so old, so often told, so often \nillustrated, so perfectly understood, as the deep un- \nrest of the human heart when left to its natural \npowers and dispositions. The human heart can no \nmore be at peace in itself than the sea can be still. \n\nBut Jesus Christ had perfect peace, and he can \ngive it to us all. \n\nI cannot, this morning, speak of all the divine \nprocesses with us and the blessed experience within \nus that bring us peace. It is enough now and here \nto say that Jesus gives peace, first of all, by giving \nus the pardon of our sins \xe2\x80\x94 peace of conscience. \nAlso such a change of heart as means a new nature. \nWe need not tangle ourselves with metaphysical \nspeculations this morning. It is enough to say, all \nhonest-minded people know that men need that \nwhich alone can come through a sense of pardoned \nsin and the consciousness of the new life begun in \nthem. \n\nSum it up in a word, it is the office of religion to \nbring the peace that Jesus gives. How well its \nderivation helps us to understand the thing itself! \nIt means to rebind. Sin has been a fearful wrench- \ning and dislocation of our souls from God. It has \n"broken all our bones." Religion rebincls us to \nGod. \n\nOr, to change the illustration: If a star could fly \nits orbit and could be brought back, it would illus- \ntrate what sin has done for its victims, and what \nJesus will do for us. \n\nBeing Christ\'s peace, it cannot be the world\'s peace \nthat he gives. \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\n277 \n\n\n\nWhat is the world\'s peace? It is such satisfaction \nas its bestowments can bring. It would not be edi- \nfying, perhaps, to go into a full discussion of its sad \ndeficiencies. Where God is left out and his bless- \ning is lacking* it all comes to grief. Solomon, as I \nshowed you in a sermon once, furnishes us illustra- \ntion at this point. His experiment issued in wretch- \nedness: " Yanity of vanities, all is vanity, saith the \npreacher." \n\nI will point diit some of the notable lacks of the \nsort of peace the world gives. \n\n1. It is incomplete, arid of necessity. It over- \nlooks the spiritual side of man. Its very noblest \nforms do this;\xe2\x80\x94 M:he highest philosophy and the most \nexquisite culture. I will deal fairly. It is in the \npower of the hunian will and in the gift of human \nphilosophy to attain a sort of calmness in trouble \nthat has much the appearance of peace. And it is \ninfinitely better than unrestrained feeling, of what- \never character it may be. It is wonderful how the \ncountenance may be schooled, and how the voice \nmay be ruled, so as not to betray distress. This is \nlike to real peace as shadow is like to substance. It \nsucceeds in calming the surface while the deep of \nthe soul is in tumult. Whereas Christ\'s peace will \nkeep the great depths at rest even where the infirm- \nities, or peculiarities of temperament and of the \nnervous system, under trial, whip the surface into \nagitation. Lieutenant Maury says of the sea in its \ndepths that the fiercest storms do not disturb it. \n\nWhatever overlooks or fails to provide for man\'s \nspiritual side cannot give him true peace. This is \n\n\n\n278 The Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\nmuch the same as saying his religious side. Such \na side he has, as sure as he has any side. The ag- \nnostics\xe2\x80\x94 ^know-nothings \xe2\x80\x94 are well named; they do \nnot know any thing of God, they do not truly know \nthemselves* \n\n2. This peace of the world is not only incomplete, \nit is utterly uncertain. This goes without saying. \nIt can need no proof. It is contingent on many \nprops. If only one fails, it is broken. And they \nwill ail fail some time, and may fail any time. \n\nBut, for the sake of all these young people* who \nwill hardly understand all this till they have learned \nby failure, let us consider this matter with some \ncare, though briefly. What are some of the ele- \nments, out of which, compounded in various pro- \nportions, the world makes and gives peace. I \nmention some of them: Health, youth, agreeable \noccupation, bodily comforts, friends. To these are \nadded \xe2\x80\x94 the rewards of energy and capacity \xe2\x80\x94 wealth, \nluxury, splendor, favor> fame, power. I have not \nmentioned the mere animal forms in which the \nworld offers its satisfaction. I will not go so low \ndown in my argument this morning. As soon seek \npure air and balmy breezes in the valley of Jehosh- \naphat, or any charnel-house, as to seek it here. And \nyou know this, although in the delirium of passion \nmen forget it. Which can you afford to lose, if you \nseek peace on the world\'s plan? Is it youth, health, \noccupation, comforts, friends? This last least of \nall, but most probably. If you are aspiring to be \nall that you can be, and to do all that you can do, \nwhich will you give up \xe2\x80\x94 fame, reputation, power, \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. 279 \n\n\n\nwealth? A very few favored ones seem to have all, \nas young Solomon had. But they failed before he \nlost any of them, and there is not one that we may \nnot lose. \n\nThis brings me to say that the one supreme need \nof every human soul is that his peace of mind \xe2\x80\x94 the \npeace that is his own \xe2\x80\x94 should be independent, not \nsimply of one but of any mere external conditions, \nof any mere circumstances. If not, the man\'s fate \nturns on that circumstance. Is it health, or youth, \nor friends ? Whatever it is, when that fails all fails. \n\nNow, the peace that Jesus gives does supply this \nwant \xe2\x80\x94 supplies it fully; and it is the only system or \nplan of life that ever did so supply it, or even talked \nof so supplying it. \n\nFor it leaves out nothing in its reckoning, no de- \ncrepitude of age, no failure of health, or wealth, or \nfavor, or friends, or any thing else. It reckons these \ngood things at their true value, and enables a man \nto do without any of them. It brings such an afflu- \nence of divine resources into the soul as not only \nsupplies every lack, but tills every place. More: \nthe peace of Christ actually feeds and strengthens \non the lack of these earthly goods; has done it mill- \nions of times, and does it to-day in millions of hearts. \nThe gospel is the only system that is not scandal- \nized by suffering. The world has three answers for \nthe agonized heart of man: (1) Drown your pain \nin indulgence. (2) Endure it with grim fortitude. \nThis is something; I respect the genuine stoic. He \nis, at all events, not a beast. (3) Despair. They \nare now trvinsr this, and for disrnitv\'s sake call it \n\n\n\n280 The Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\n" pessimism." But the gospel puts a consistent and \nperfect sense into such a phrase as this: " Sanctified \nthrough affliction," or, "made perfect through suf- \nfering." It wrings pleasure from pain, joy from \ngrief, triumph from defeat. When other lights go \nout, it kindles a brighter and diviner light. Nature \nin the saintliest and strongest man that ever lived \nmay command her tribute of tears when the heart \nis sick, but the tears become new lenses that give \nfairer visions of God\'s beauty. Once when preach- \ning in this house years ago \xe2\x80\x94 before I wore glasses \xe2\x80\x94 \nand I could not distinguish your faces, a gush of \ntears filled my eyes, and for one instant it transfig- \nured you all; I saw faces shining and eyes glisten- \ning in a gentle baptism of holy emotion, and it \nlifted me up. So, if Christ\'s peace be ours, our \nvery sorrows bring us visions of beauty that make \nus glad and victorious. \n\nWith Christ\'s peace, the soul can do any thing \nthat the occasion requires. It can endure, it can \nwait, it can triumph. \n\nI could give you illustrations almost without \nnumber. I will mention a few. \n\n1. A poor girl I saw in Lawrence ville, Georgia, \none day. There were three sisters, very poor. One \nwas the victim of a rheumatism that had anchylosed \nevery joint in her body but those that belonged to \nher jaws. She had been there on the bed utterly \nhelpless for many years. She suffered always. The \ntwo sisters cared for her tenderly. During a Dis- \ntrict Conference Bishop Pierce and I called to see \nher. The good Bishop read a precious chapter, and \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives* 281 \n\n\n\nwe kneeled down to pray. How I loved him when \nhis full heart choked his voice till he could not fin- \nish the prayer ! Christ was with that girl all the \ntime. As We Were going, dne of the sisters in \nhealth said, with faltering voice, " She is the bright- \nest of us all." \n\n2. One night in Virginia, after one of the terrible \nbattles, I heard in the darkness a* low murmuring \nvoice. I was with a hospital-camp. Hundreds of \nwounded men were all about us in the woods. Many \ndear friends had been shot dead in battle that day; \nothers were dying. It was very dark, the wind \nhaving blown out our candles. I crept along till I \nfound the place where the soldier lay whose voice I \nheard. He was dying. I stooped over him and \nasked him, "How are you getting on? 5 \' "Dying," \nhe answered. "Where from?" "Alabama. Wife \nand three children there." "How is it with you?" \n"All right." And he died there in the dark, rejoic- \ning in Christ the Lord. \n\n3. There are historic cases that you recall, as \nthe Hebrew children in the furnace of fire. The \nbeautiful legend is that they sung the forty-sixth \nPsalm as they went into the fire. You recall the \nmidnight songs and prayers of Paul and Silas in the \ndungeon at Philippi. You have read how Bunyan \nsaw the beauty and heard the songs of the Beulah- \nlands while he lingered in Bedford jail. The lives \nof all God\'s heroes and heroines furnish illustrations. \n\nAll these help us to understand the closing words \nof our text: "Let not your heart be troubled" \xe2\x80\x94 lit- \nerally, let it not be tossed about \xe2\x80\x94 "neither let it be \n\n\n\n282 \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\nafraid." Occasions enough will come for both \ntrouble and fear. Christianity does not propose ex- \nemption to its followers from the ordinary expe- \nriences of humanity.- It could not without destroy- \ning itself. To have offered health, wealth, power, \nlong life absolutely, would have marred all religion \nwith a selfishness that would havd made true relig- \nion impossible. \n\nDear yoiitig people, I look at your bright eyes and \nhope-illumined faces sometimes and my heart bleeds \nfor you ; for I kndw that clditds will come, and rain, \nand cold; Yott cannot live in thisworld and escape \ntrouble, peril, heart-siekness. \n\nIt is spring-time now. Flowers are all about us, \nand the songs of birds till the air. But winter will \ncome again. And your time of trial will come. \n\nBut when I think of the peace that Jesus offers \nto every One of you, I am glad for you, and feel that \nit is unspeakably better that ydu have come into the \nworld, rough as it is, since his retnedy for all ills is \nso complete. Let not your heart be troubled. \n\nThese last words, " Neither let it be afraid," lift \nus higher than the words of safety and peace. Re- \nligion is not a mere softness that yieMs to blows; a \nreed that bends before the blast; a patient, suffering \nspirit that can be resigned. It is not sent to soften \nsick-beds only. It is not sent only to wounded and \nbleeding hearts to pour in oil and wine. It is a \nheroic spirit. It teaches courage and exacts it upon \nfit occasion. It can dare as well as endure; it can \ngive battle as well as suffer. It can die in its place \nwhen the hour comes to die. \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\n283 \n\n\n\nThis high courage and this perfect peace sustain \nand supplement each other. If you want illustra- \ntion$ call the roll of the martyrs and confessors of all \nages. Modern Madagascar, within the last twenty \nyears, has furnished illustrations of the divine cour- \nage of martyrdom as radiant as ever shone forth in \nmoral splendor in the Roman arena when, for sport, \nthey pitted lions against Christian women. \n\nThere is much talk in the world about consecra- \ntion* Thei*e is no consecration that does not put \nduty above interest^ principle above selfj righteous- \nness and loyalty to Christ above life. \n\nI affirm here that the Christ-spirit in men has \ngiven to the world the finest, fullest illustrations of \npeace and perfect courage. And there will always \nbe need of this spirit* There are arenas where in- \nvisible lions tear and devour. The courage of the \ntruth is needful every day and every hour. \n\nFinally, take it all together, we see that a good \nman\'s life is a sort of double life, and to the eye of \nsense full of contradictions. We see sickness and \nhealth, poverty and riches, weakness and strength, \ndefeat and triumph, death and life. It is what Paul \nmeant by his paradoxes. \n\nWe may be perplexed, but we are not in despair; \npersecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not \ndestroyed. \n\nTo use an illustration I have employed heretofore \nin a different connection: Every man who has the \npeace of Christ abiding in his soul is in the sea of \nhuman life like the Gulf-stream of the Ocean \xe2\x80\x94 in it, \nbut distinct from it; higher than the surrounding \n\n\n\n284 \n\n\n\nThe Peace Jesus Gives. \n\n\n\nwaves; moving straight on through them, against all \nwinds; and warmer, carrying life to frozen lands. \n\nI can give you no better advice than this: Seek \ntill you find it the peace of Christ. I can wish you \nno fortune so good for either world, as this. \n\nChrist\'s peace keep you now and always. Amen* \n\n\n\nPROVE ALL THINGS. \n\n\n\n[COMMENCEMENT SEEMON, OXFORD, JUNE 25, 1882,] \n\n\n\n"Despise not prophesyings. Prove all things; hold fast that \nwhich is good." 1 Thess. v. 20, 21. \n\nr I iHE meekness that makes true learning possible \n\n\n\nI in the school of truth is very far from blind \ncredulity on the one hand, and from the conceit of \nover self-confidence on the other. The really teach- \nable student is one who is willing to be taught by \nthe wise; but he is also one who is not afraid to think \nfor himself. The monk who has so deeply sunk his \nindividuality that he simply receives what his supe- \nrior delivers to him as the final statement of truth, \nand who accepts it without inquiry or hesitation \nbecause it is the word of his superior, cannot be a \ntrue learner in any of God\'s schools. On this point \nso conservative a writer as good Matthew Henry \nhas well said : " The doctrines of human infallibility, \nimplicit faith, and blind obedience, are not the doc- \ntrines of the Bible." These are the doctrines of \nRome, and in this effort to secure faith and obedi- \nence by suppressing the human mind, we find the \norigin of the long conflict which free thought and \ninquiring science has waged with what is improper- \nly called "the Church." \n\nYou will hear and read much of this conflict. If \nwe rightly understand the matter, we may safely \n\n\n\n\n(285) \n\n\n\n286 \n\n\n\nProve All Things, \n\n\n\nsettle it in our minds that a holier war was never \nwaged. But nothing can be more harmful to us \nthan to confoun4 Rome with the "true Church of \nChrist," in speaking of this conflict. " The Church" \nand "Rome" are not synonymous. For the true \nChurch is not a sect; the true Church of Christ is \nan invisible, unnamed thing; it is the "kingdom of \nGod" among men \xe2\x80\x94 a kingdom "that cometh not \nwith observation," but a kingdom most real and \nactual, that embraces every human being that ever \nlived, that lives to-day, that shall live to-morrow, \nwdio accepts Christ Jesus, or, not having known \nChrist, yet "walks in the truth," according to the \nbest light that God has given him. With this king- \ndom true philosophy, true science, has no conflict; \nit can have no conflict. In other words, true phi- \nlosophy and true science have no conflict with \nChristianity. " Science falsely so called" may have \na conflict with Christianity, just as Christianity \n"falsely so called" may have a conflict with science. \nTrue science has a conflict \xe2\x80\x94 and a most righteous \nconflict it is \xe2\x80\x94 with Rome, and with whatever there \nmay be in any other form of religion that preserves \nthe spirit or imitates the methods of Rome. \n\nIt was Rome, and not Christianity, that sought to \ncrush Galileo; that denied facts if they unsettled \ntheories; that refused to look through a telescope \nlest something in the creed might be put in jeop- \nardy ; that shut its eyes to a mathematical demon- \nstration in maintaining the decrees of popes and \ncouncils concerning matters they did not understand \nand that were not subjects of revelation, It is the \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n287 \n\n\n\nspirit of Rome, and not the spirit of Christianity, \nthat has kindled all the fires of persecution that \never lighted the way along which martyrs and con- \nfessors have ascended to God. \n\nThese statements should not occasion surprise. \nFor as nothing is more obvious than that traces of \npaganism survive in the social and civil life of our \nChristian civilization, so it is equally plain that \nsome errors and misconceptions of Rome survive in \nthe opinions, and sentiments, and customs of the \nProtestant Churches. \n\nThe statement holds good without qualification: \nThere is not, there never was, any conflict between \ntrue science and true Christianity. It is only cor- \nrupted Christianity that has withstood science; true \nChristianity is in league with true science, and it is \ntrue Christianity that has made true science possi- \nble. For it is "the truth" that "makes free" the \nhuman mind, and Christianity is the highest form \nof truth ever presented to human thought. \n\nIn illustration let me say, A false or imperfect \nastronomy may be in conflict with Christianity. So \nmay a false or imperfect chemistry, or geology, or \nontology. And the converse is true: A true astron- \nomy, or chemistry, or geology, or ontology, may be \nin conflict with a false or imperfect form of Chris- \ntianity, whether formulated by Romanism or any \nother development in the history of religion. But \nnothing in this world can be plainer, can less need \nargument to prove it to candid and enlightened \nminds, than that God\'s universe is in harmony with \nitself, and with him, its maker. JSTo two truths can \n\n\n\n288 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\ncontradict or antagonize each other. The conceit \nof John Stuart Mill that there " may be a world in \nwhich twice two are five" is an unthinkable ab- \nsurdity. But it is not more absurd or unthinkable \nthan that any truth should contradict any other \ntruth; than that any truth, for example, in astron- \nomy or other science should be in conflict with any \ntruth in religion. It would be as reasonable to sup- \npose thai a truth in geometry can be in conflict with \na truth in chemistry. If in our statement of geo- \nmetrical or chemical truth contradictions appear, \nwe know at once that we are at fault, either in our \nchemistry or in our geometry. In such a case, a \nwise man will return to his blackboard or his labo- \nratory; he knows there is an error, and he seeks it \nthat he may correct it. The last thing he thinks \nof is to seek to overturn one truth by another. And \nso when any science seems to be in conflict with any \ntruth in religion the wise man does not simply sus- \npect, he knows that there is a mistake somewhere, \nand he will devote his best efforts to the discovery \nand rectification of the error. Any other course is \ndestructive, and it is madness; for if we once surren- \nder the doctrine that all truth is in harmony with \nitself, and that therefore no two truths can contra- \ndict each other, we are at the end of intelligent \nthinking; we are at the end of progress; we are at \nthe end of all law and order; we are in chaos and \n" thick darkness that may be felt." \n\nIn our text to-day St. Paul gives us, in simple but \ncomprehensive terms, the temper and attitude of \nmind which is not only becoming, but that is vitally \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n289 \n\n\n\nnecessary to every true student in every field of in- \nvestigation: "Despise not prophesyings. Prove all \nthings; hold fast that which is good." \n\nI. First of all, we are taught by the apostle to \nhear with respectful and candid consideration what \n"the prophets" say to us. \n\nI understand very well the special sense of these \nwords, that he is speaking to us not of prophesying \nin the sense of foretelling future events, but of proph- \nesying in the more general sense of proclaiming the \ndivine will. I know that St. Paul is speaking par- \nticularly of religious truth, and of what the "proph- \nets/* the accredited teachers of religion, say to us. \nBut it is neither irrelevant nor irreverent to find in \nthe apostle\'s words a just description of the right \nmental attitude toward all who before us have dis- \ncovered or proclaimed what they believed to be the \ntruth in any province of the kingdom of truth. Xo \nstatement of truth by any teacher is to be " despised \'\' ? \n\xe2\x80\x94 treated with contempt, made light of, dismissed \nsneeringly as of little or no worth \xe2\x80\x94 only because its \nteachers have lived before our time, or possibly did \nnot know some things that we have learned, or \nwere seeking truth in some field that we have not \nexplored. \n\nThe ancient astrologers made many mistakes, they \nfollowed many wandering stars of the imagination. \nMoreover, they were what we call "superstitious." \nBut you would think less of an astronomer of our \ntime, turning his great telescope round the sky and \ndiscovering new worlds from time to time, who, \nbecause the worshipful star-gazers of the East were \n\n\n\n290 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nmistaken in most of their speculations, should there* \nfore ridicule or denounce them. In every field of \nresearch the truest learner and the wisest man will \nconsider with candor and respect even the miscon-. \nceptions of sincere seekers who have gone before \nhim. Brewster and Faraday may be found, in \nthe light of the latest discoveries in chemistry, \nto have been out in some of their statements, \nbut such a man as Tyndall will not, for this cause, \ndenounce or despise them. He owes them too \nmuch. \n\nThese statements will illustrate for us the true \nlesson in our text. Every student of religion should \nhear what " the prophets" \xe2\x80\x94 the teachers of religion, \nwhether they be among the living or the dead\xe2\x80\x94 \nhave to say to him, with at least as much respect \nand candor as we find in sensible and sincere men \nof science in the attitude they assume toward their \npredecessors. While no authority of a venerated \nname, or of all venerated names, can be received as \na substitute for evidence, much less as an answer to \nevidence in any search after truth, yet no success in \ndiscovering truth can justify any son of science in \n" despising" the beliefs of those who have gone be- \nfore him. \n\nAt this place, to come nearer to the special truth \nin the text, I raise this question: In what light are \nwe to view the creed-builders, the fathers, the coun- \ncils, the conferences, the prophets, the teachers of \nthe Church, who have gone before us? The answer \nis plain and ready to hand: With candid respect and \nperfect fairness we are to hear what they have to \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n291 \n\n\n\nsay to us. No right-minded or pure-hearted man \n"despises prophesyings." \n\nThe current fashion with some of ridiculing "the \ncreed/\' of sneering at what is called "dogma," is \nnot an indication of either piety or sense. It is \nrather an expression of the prevailing tendency of \nour times to revolt against all authority. This \ntendency is, in part, rooted in a good instinct; it is \nthe natural rebound of the human soul that finds \nitself now being delivered from the despotism of \npriestcraft, than which no tyranny more cruel ever \nground its heel into the heart of prostrate human- \nity. But the tendency of which I speak has in it \nan element of evil. It is largely due to the spirit \nof license \xe2\x80\x94 false and bastard liberty \xe2\x80\x94 that is abroad \nin the earth; a spirit out of the pit that resents all \nrule, defies all authority, and would overthrow all \nlaw. It is socialism, communism, nihilism, atheism, \naccording to the conditions of its existence and \nmanifestations. \n\nThere are those in our time who are instinctively \ndisposed to repudiate whatever "the fathers" have \ntaught. They jeer at councils, despise "creeds," \nand contemn " orthodoxy." Orthodoxy is the red- \nflag that starts them into frenzies of iconoclastic \nrage. They set themselves forward as reformers, \nand reject what the Church has accepted through- \nout the ages, not because it is proved to be false, \nbut because the Church accepts it as orthodox. \nThis spirit is vain, conceited, rebellious, wicked, \ndestructive. \n\nFor the most part its small claim to the respect \n\n\n\n292 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nand confidence of thoughtful and devout men is in- \ndicated by the character of those who make it their \nbusiness to assail whatever is venerable in the insti- \ntutions of the Church; to reject with disdain what- \never has received the concurrent approval of the \nbest and wisest men. The men of whom I speak, \nand against whom I warn you to-day, are generally, \nwhen found in ecclesiastical circles, men who have \nfailed to achieve their ambitions in the Church ; \nwhen found in the other camp, men who, with few \nexceptions, are in their spirit and lives out of har- \nmony with Christianity, and who, for this reason, \nfind within themselves a motive for assailing all \nthat is connected with it. Nothing is more evident \nthan that many persons assail Christianity because \nthey wish to find a lower standard of life and mor- \nals. Among Church-people there are not wanting \nthose who having failed to achieve fame in the ortho- \ndox paths, seek notoriety, its cheap and seductive \nsubstitute, by attacking what their betters accept \nas the truth. Moreover, they are generally ill-bal- \nanced men, uncertain and cranky in their intellect- \nual methods and impulses. And not infrequently \nthey are men of uncertain personal character. \n\nIn this connection it is w T orthy of remark that \nthese despisers of the prophets, these assailants of \nthe fathers, these theological insurgents against or- \nthodoxy, are intensified in all their weak and evil \nimpulses by the applause of those who neither fear \nGrod nor regard the Church. In illustration of my \nmeaning I need only remind you that when some \npulpit star flies its orbit the Philistine press shouts \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n293 \n\n\n\nall along the line. When not long since a Chicago \npreacher publicly announced that he no longer be- \nlieved in a personal God, and began to pray to his \nown ideal aspirations, and to harangue his bewil- \ndered hearers upon the progress of the race and the \nenthusiasm of humanity, the " reporters" from the \nuncircumcised press flocked about him and gave, \nwith a mighty blare of trumpets, his heresies and \ndeclamations to the world. Just as these papers \nparade with endless iteration any new discovery or \nsupposed-to-be discovery in science or history, that \nby any torture can be imagined to be contradictory \nof the least important statement in the Bible; at \nthe same time suppressing with shameless persist- \nence of unfairness a thousand confirmations of the \nChristian religion. \n\nJust here we find ample explanation of one of the \nmost common and harmful delusions in the public \nmind: the notion that the pulpit is full of men who \neither doubt what they teach for truth, or use their \nopportunity to attack principles they are supported \nto defend, and the equally absurd and mischievous \nnotion that nearly all the truths of science do, in \nsome way, antagonize the body of Christian doc- \ntrine. The paper that spreads before the world the \natheistic confessions of a fallen pastor may say \nnothing of the steadfast orthodoxy and constant \nusefulness of hundreds of thousands of wiser and \nbetter men. Popular misconceptions are not to be \nwondered at, when we consider the noise that is \nmade over the lapse from the faith of the Church \nof one of her sons who announces that he has just \n\n\n\n294 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\ndiscovered that there is no God after all. One unin- \nformed might infer that a Chinese army is one mill- \nion strong, if he only reckons by the noise made by \na thousand gongs. \n\nThere is much need of the exhortation, "Despise \nnot prophesyings." It is especially needful in our \ntimes, and needful above all by young men who \nhave educational advantages, whose knowledge has \nnot yet ripened into wisdom, who are still in the \ngreen and sappy stage of life, who have not yet \n" come to themselves," who are too often disposed \nto mistake disrespect for authority for an expression \nof true independence. To young men \xe2\x80\x94 to educated \nyoung men especially \xe2\x80\x94 the exhortation is as timely \nas it is necessary. Young men, do not throw away \nyour father\'s creed just because it was his; do not \nreject it because you may not understand it, and \ntherefore infer that it must be false ; because it lays \nan arrest upon your passions and ambitions, and you \ninfer that it is intolerant. \n\nThe forms of truth that have come down to us \nfrom the days of old are worthy of your respect. \nThey have been sneered at before your time, and \nhave survived a logic as forceful and a satire as \nsharp as any that you are likely to bring against \nthem. Young men, "Despise not prophesyings" \n\nSt. Paul does not speak half truths to us; more \ndangerous, as has been said to you before, than \nwhole heresies. When he says, " Despise not proph- \nesyings," he says also: \n\nII. "Prove all things" \n\nThe word rendered "prove" w T as often used to \n\n\n\nProve All Things \n\n\n\n295 \n\n\n\nexpress the testing of metals. AecoMitig to some \nof the best expositors, the metaphor suggested by \nthe word is derived from the money-changers who \ntry, by whatever tests they trust\xe2\x80\x94 as ringing, weigh- \ning, and such like\xe2\x80\x94 all coins that are offered to them, \nand then reject the bad and keep the good. \n\nIn every age counterfeits have folldwed after gen- \nuine coins. There must be tests for distinguishing \nthem, whether in matters of business or of faith. \n\nSt. John enjoins upon us the duty of testing \n" prophesyings." He says, " Beloved, believe not \nevery spirit, but try the spirits whether they be of \nGod/\' The urgent necessity for thi& testing of the \nspirits he sets forth in these words: a Because many \nfalse spirits are gone out into the world." Before \nSt. John, our Lord pointed out the necessity, laid \ndown the principle, and gave us a rule for testing \nboth the prophets and their doctrine: "Beware \nof false prophets. .... Ye shall know them by \ntheir fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or \nfigs of thistles?" The right and duty of personal \ninvestigation and personal judgment in matters of \nfaith are implied in his exhortation, " Search the \nScriptures." And the writer of the Acts of the \nApostles eulogizes the men of Berea as " more no- \nble " than others because they did search the Script- \nures in order to determine for themselves whether \nwhat the apostles had told them was the truth. \n\nIn this right and duty of "private judgment" \nProtestantism is based. This is its declaration of \nindependence; in the exercise of this right it had \nits origin; in the continued exercise of it rests its \n\n\n\n296 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nsafety and its life. Protestantism sets itself against \ntwo despotic claims of Rome: \n\n1. That what the Church says concerning mat- \nters of faith is a finished and complete statement \nof truth, and therefore a sacred thing to be received \nas upon divine authority on the peril of the soul by \nevery generation. \n\n2. That in the interpretation of the word of God \nthe Church is infallible. \n\nGranting these claims, it is logical and necessary \nto believe: (1) That what the Church has said at \nany time in the past is a final and absolute state- \nment, and must be received as such forever. (2) \nThat what the Church may say at any future time \nmust be received as absolute truth. (3) That to \nreject what the Church says is a mortal sin. (4) \nThat the Church is lord of every man\'s thoughts, \nand conscience, and life : that its official voice is the \nvoice of God. A statement near of kin to the cry \nof the demagogue, " The voice of the people is the \nvoice of God.\' 7 Within limits, both formulas are \ntrue; without limit, their doctrine is despotism. \n\nAgainst this crushing spiritual bondage our text \nmakes its everlasting protest in an exhortation that \nhas the force of law, and that is addressed to the \nmind and conscience of each disciple in the school \nof Christ: " Despise not propkesyings," but "prove \nall things. " \n\nThe utility of written creeds and formularies- \nstatements embodying the main points of Christian \ndoctrine \xe2\x80\x94 is not questioned by wise and careful \nthinkers. But whenever we think of our creeds as \n\n\n\nProve All Things, \n\n\n\n297 \n\n\n\nbeing in their form sacred things, we think of them \nsuperstitiously, and they become harmful to living \nfaith. It is then that we are in position to lose the \nspirit in the letter, and to " make void" both " law" \nand gospel "through the tradition of the elders." \nWhat we call the "Articles of Religion " are at best \nonly the clearest expression of human judgment as \nto the essential truth of God\'s word of which wise \nand good men are capable. It is not every one w T ho \nrealizes that his " Confession of Faith" is not in- \nspired. The truth is God\'s, and therefore sacred; \nthe formulation of it is man\'s, and therefore a prop- \ner subject of investigation, criticism, and revision. \nIt was the highest duty of Israel to keep the com- \nmandments written upon the two tables of stone by \nthe finger of God; it would have been base idolatry \nto have worshiped the ark that contained them \xe2\x80\x94 \nthat was the work of men\'s hands. The ark was \nwood, and passed away; the law was truth, and \nabides forever. \n\nAt best all confessions of faith are but imperfect \nexpressions of truth; imperfect because they take \ntheir form in the minds of fallible men, who cannot \nknow all the truth, and who confessedly make mis- \ntakes. I have known godly men lift up their hands \nin horror at a proposition to change certain forms \nof expression in the ritual of baptism, as if change \nwere itself akin to blasphemy. This is a relic of \nRomanism. The principle in our text would ask, \nIs the proposition for change in itself wise? is the \nproposed form a more perfect expression of the \ntruth? \n\n\n\n298 \n\n\n\nProve All Things* \n\n\n\nWhy should it surprise us that religious truth \ntakes on new forms of expression age after age? In \nno sphere of truth can one generation either dis- \ncover all its treasures or give perfect expression to all \nthat it knows. It was never yet ti^ue, it never will \nbe true, that the men of one generation, although \nthey composed the first councils of the Church, \ncould do all the thinking for all that come after \nthem. The natural world is new to each generation \nof investigators, and each generation, if it study the \nworld, w r ill find new things to describe and define. \nNo true poet describes nature in the very words of \nhis predecessors; no true scientist is contented to \nsimply catalogue the opinions and discoveries of \nthose who have gone before him. What is true of \nthe works is true of the word of God\xe2\x80\x94 " The king- \ndoms are but one." \n\nThe Bible is essentially a new book to each gen- \neration and to each man. Our studies no more \nexhaust the words than they exhaust the works of \nGod. To the end of time there will be new state- \nments of scientific truth; and always, so long as \nmen think at all, there will be new formulations of \nreligious truth. New discoveries in the powers and \nresources of nature do not imply new creations, nor \ndo new expressions of religious truth imply new \nrevelations. No doubt there is a Providence, all- \nwise and gracious, in men\'s thoughts as in their \ndeeds. As God\'s providence timed the great dis- \ncoveries and inventions of our time, so, I cannot \ndoubt, the enlightening and sanctifying Spirit that \ngives " man understanding," and that " enlightens \n\n\n\nProve All Things \n\n\n\n2P9 \n\n\n\nevery man that is come into the world/\' brings to \nthe " remembrance "of each generation those forms \nof truth that are most needed for the work of God. \nTill we have passed into the heavens, we will only \nknow in part; we will be looking through a glass \ndarkly. Then, but not now, shall we know even as \nalso we are known. \n\nIf truth could be furnished to us just as the gov- \nernment issues coin, with its image and superscrip- \ntion; if perfect and final expression could be given \nto truth by the " prophets," it would not accomplish \nthe divine purpose in giving truth to the world. \nFor we are so constituted that much of the blessing \nthat the truth brings to us can come only in our \nsearch after it. In relation to the pearl of truth we \nare more than receivers; we are also finders. It \nwas only when the man in the parable had found, \nafter diligent search, the pearl of price, and had \nsold all he had to be possessed of it, that he could \nclaim it as his own. \n\nIt is beyond question a fact in our mental consti- \ntution that we cannot thoroughly know any thing \nthat we do not in some way formulate for ourselves. \nIt is on this principle that some writer, unknown to \nme, asserted some years ago in Blackwood\'s Maga- \nzine that "we do not thoroughly know any thing \ntill we have spoken or written it." For it is in our \neffort to formulate truth for ourselves that we stamp \nour own die upon it and it is ours, as no truth can \nbe that we only receive from another; or, to employ \na most familiar bat forcible illustration : Our knowl- \nedge, like our food, must be digested and assimilated \n\n\n\n300 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nbefore it oecomes part of our very blood and fiber \nand muscle. \n\nThe catechism is good after its kind, but mere \ncatechism knowledge is apt to stop in the verbal \nmemory; it is not generally so digested and assim- \nilated as to become a constituent part of our vital \nand vitalizing faiths. To illustrate this thought by \nthe simplest possible case: Suppose you tell your lit- \ntle boy that Samson was the strongest man, or that \nJob was the most patient of all sufferers. He knows \nwhat you tell him in a sense; you have told him so, \nand he believes you. But there is no vividness of \nimpression. Let the boy now read for himself the \nstory of the giant\'s prowess, or even look at a pict- \nure of his mighty deeds. Let him read how he \nslew the lion that rose up against him; how he bore \naway the massive gates of Gaza; how he slew the \nPhilistines with the jaw-bone of an ass; how he \npulled down upon himself and his tormentors the \ntemple of Dagon. The story kindles his imagina- \ntion. His blood quickens, and his little muscles \nswell as the story comes into his consciousness, a \nreality, a living fact, that he sees and knows for \nhimself. \n\nOr, let him read for himself the wondrous story \nof the man of Uz, who lost all things and suffered \nall things, yet sinned not with his lips nor charged \nGod foolishly; let the boy hear him say from his \nash-heap, " The Lord gave and the Lord hath tak- \nen away, blessed be the name of the Lord." It all \ncomes home to him with its infinite pathos, and the \nchild who has known neither suffering nor want \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n301 \n\n\n\ncan almost understand the victorious outburst of \nfaith, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." \n\nBut mere catechism questions and answers can- \nnot give such knowledge. The principle applies \nuniversally; we must find truth for ourselves to \nmake it, in its best sense, truth to us. And w r e can- \nnot make it our truth without searching for it our- \nselves. This is not peculiar to religious truth; no \ntruth can be conveyed simply by teaching; there \nmust be learning also. Take the simplest proposi- \ntion in geometry: the learner must see for himself \nthe relations\' of two straight lines crossing each \nother before he can understand what you mean by \nright-angles. \n\nIf it were possible for the Church, through proph- \n.ets, or popes, or fathers, or councils, to do all the \nthinking that needs to be done so far as reaching a \nperfect expression of the truth is concerned (and \nhow impossible this is the history of theology makes \nplain), the necessity of "proving all things,", of \n"trying the spirits," of "searching the Scriptures," \nwould still exist. For the necessity of individual \njudgment is based in the very constitution of our \nminds. Only thus can truth be truth to us; and it \nis only when the truth is realized as truth in our \ninmost heart that it " makes us free." Just as the \nlight of the sun is not light to us till it enters our \neyes. It is not enough that other men have the \nlight and tell us w T hat they see. The most eloquent \ndescription of colors, of lights and shadows, cannot \nmake its sweet wonders known ; it is only when we \nsee with our own eyes that we say, " Truly the light \n\n\n\n302 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nis sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to \nbehold the sun." \n\nThe right and duty of personal study and judg- \nment imply that there are tests by which we may \ntry the prophesyings \xe2\x80\x94 may "prove all things," that \nwe may " hold fast that which is good." As already \nintimated, the word rendered "prove" implies the \ntest of coins. The merchant uses his tests; he tries \nthe weight, the ring of the coin that is offered to \nhim. He knows the genuine coin, and tests that \nwhich is under consideration by his knowledge of \nthe true. \n\nWhere now is our criterion? By what shall we \ntest the word of the prophets? We are as fallible \nas they. The right to judge them implies their lia- \nbility to error. As this liability inheres in their \nfinite humanity, so we, being men, are also liable to \nerr in our judgment of them. We cannot, then, as \njudges of the prophets, find in ourselves any abso- \nlute standard of truth. We have need to remember \nwith humility that human fallibility shows itself \nin the criticism as well as in the formulation of a \ncreed, or an interpretation. But it would be ab- \nsurd to conclude that our judgment is useless \nbecause it is not infallible. It would be equally \nwise to bandage or put out our eyes because they \nsometimes deceive us as to colors or distances. \nIn seeing and judging we are to do the best we \ncan. \n\nWe find the test of coins in certain definitely as- \ncertained facts of metallurgy. So, in our religious \nbeliefs there are tests, not so easily applied nor so \n\n\n\nPkove All Things. \n\n\n\n803 \n\n\n\ndefinite in their results as are the tests of gold and \nsilver, but nevertheless satisfactory for all the uses \nthat belong to the nature of the subject. There \nare two tests of the truth of doctrine that will an- \nswer all our need in sqch cases. And it is a most \nimportant and comforting fact that it is easier to \nmake these tests in doctrines of vital importance. \nThus it is easier to determine whether a prophet \npreaches the truth in relation to repentance and \npardon, and the new birth, than when he under- \ntakes to formulate in precise definition the ontolog- \nical relations of the Trinity. In a word, the more \npractical and important in its relations to our per- \nsonal Mth and salvation any truth is, the easier is \nit for us to test the " prophesyings " that are urged \nupon our attention. \n\nOne of these readily applied tests, and that most \nprominent in the apostle\'s mind, we find in the \nScriptures themselves: " Search the Scriptures," \nsays our Lord, " for they are they which testify of \nme." If the prophets do not speak according to \nthis word, we must reject their message. Since it \nis inevitable that men differ in their interpretation \nof the word, the question occurs, How shall we be \ncertain in such cases? The answer is, We cannot \nbe certain in such cases. We must do the best we \ncan to reach honest conclusions; God requires no \nmore, man can achieve no more. As to the rest, \n"the day will declare it," and this is not the only \nworld in which we can study the mind of God. In \nthe white light of eternity we will " know even as \nalso we are known." Till then, diligence in study, \n\n\n\n304 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\npatience in failure, gratitude in success, toleration \nin our differences, become . us all. \n\nOur Lord gives us another test that we may use \nin safety, even when there is little of the learning \nof books. He says, in speaking .of false prophets, \nso certain to come, " By their fruits ye shall know \nthem." Prophesyings that make men worse are \nfalse. In applying this test, we shall have to do \nwith ourselves more than with others. Prophesy- \nings that neither teach us nor strengthen us, that \ndo not help us to conquer our sins, that do not bring \nus nearer to God or make us more like Jesus our \nLord, however learned or eloquent they may be, are \nnot good to us. We have proved them; we find \nthem wanting; we may let them go. But let it \nteach us modesty to remember that we are not in- \nfallible in deciding what are the influences \xe2\x80\x94 the \nfruits \xe2\x80\x94 of any given doctrine. We may be mis- \ntaken here also. But candor in our investigations \nand perfect charity toward other searchers after the \ntruth will save us, for the most part, from disagree- \nable and harmful conflicts of opinion. \n\nBut if one says, " Since I cannot determine relig- \nious truth as I measure distances or weigh bodies, \nI accept agnosticism and declare myself to be a \nknow-nothing in religion," it is the doctrine of a \nfool. \n\nHow are we to make proof? What method must \nwe use in our search after religious truth? \nI answer: \n\n1. We are to use our minds. Religion is a proper \nsubject for thought. There is nothing abnormal in \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n305 \n\n\n\nthe relations between religious truth and the human \nmind. As to the mental process, we think when \nwe study religion as we think w T hen we study other \nsubjects. The study of religion involves no vio- \nlence to our reason. Its truths may be beyond rea- \nson, but we will not help our understanding of them \nby refusing to use our reason. \n\n2. In our search for religious truth we will not \nforget the works of God, but the Bible, the word \nof God, is our text-book. The Bible, if we would \nunderstand it, needs to be studied, so far as our in- \ntellectual methods are concerned, just as we would \nstudy any other book. It is a sin and a folly to \nmake a mere fetich of the Bible. We are not to \nread the Bible as an end but as a means. One can- \nnot become learned in Bible truth by simply read- \ning over so many chapters, $s a sort of penance or \nas the price of security and a pacified conscience, \nbefore going to sleep. We are to study the Bible as \nwe would stud} 7 our geometry, not simply read. \n" Search" signifies our best effort to get at the very \nmarrow of its teaching. We are to search not be- \ncause it is the Bible, but because it tells us of Christ, \nthe way of salvation. There is no more virtue in \nsimply reading the Bible than in reading Black- \nstone; all the good of Bible study comes in Bible \nlearning. \n\n3. In searching the Scriptures we should pray for \nthe help of the Holy Spirit that we may be led into \nthe truth. We have the promise of our Lord, made \nthe night before he died for us, that the Father \nwould send the " Spirit of truth " to help us find \n\n20 \n\n\n\n306 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nthe truth. This promise he makes again and again. \n"I will pray the Father, and he shall give you an- \nother Comforter, that he may abide with you for- \never; even the Spirit of truth." Again he says, \n" But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, \nwhom the Father will send in my name, he shall \nteach you all things, and bring all things to your \nremembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you." \nAgain: " But when the Comforter is come, whom I \nwill send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit \nof truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he \nshall testify of me." \n\niSo doubt we have God\'s blessing in honest search- \ning after every form of truth, for all truth is his. \nBut it cannot be questioned that in the words I \nhave quoted, as well as in other such words of Jesus, \nwe Lave a very special promise of divine help in \nour search after the truth of his word; after the \nreal essence and meaning of the gospel. \n\nIt is a very narrow and mistaken exposition that \nwould limit these blessed promises of Jesus to the \napostles or to the Church of that day. The mirac- \nulous bestowments of the Holy Spirit were for that \nday only. But those gifts of the Spirit which are \nmost valuable \xe2\x80\x94 his enlightening, quickening, and \nsanctifying influences \xe2\x80\x94 abide with the Church for- \never. These last promises are for us of the present \ntime. On the strength of them, Jesus urges us to \npray for the help we need. In one place he makes \na special promise of the Spirit\'s help. " If ye then, \nbeing evil, know how to give good gifts unto your \nchildren, how much more will your Father which is \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n307 \n\n\n\nin heaven give the Holy Spirit to them that ask \nhim?" \n\nIn these last words of our Lord there is no prom- \nise to us of inspiration, but of help that we may \nunderstand what God has already given the Church \nthrough his Son and the apostles. \n\nLet us distinctly remember that these promises \nof the Spirit\'s help in our search for truth is coup- \nled with exhortations to pray for it. Prayer is in- \nstinctive with devout searchers after the truth. It \nis as natural to ask God\'s help when we are seeking \nGod\'s truth as for little children to look to their \nmothers for tender care. Prayer is instinctive and \neasily understood till we undertake to construct a \nphilosophy of it. When we are seeking to know \nthe truth, prayer follows naturally and certainly; it \nis the turning of the spirit\'s eye to the source of \nall light, " the Father of our spirits." \n\nThe prayerless man is not in the right attitude to \nfind the truth. Religious history is full of proofs \nand illustration of the truth that our best views of \nGod and of men, and of our duty to God and men, \ncome to us in the hour of prayer. It is not inci- \ndental, it is a law of the Spirit\'s operation, that his \nhelp comes in answer to prayer. It is to the \npraying soul that the light of the shekinah still \nshines between the cherubim. Prayer and the \nSpirit\'s help and earnest search after the truth are \nso intimately and vitally connected that we may \nsettle it in our minds as certain beyond all doubt \nthat when we cease to pray we cease to discover \ntruth in its noblest forms; that we are proceeding \n\n\n\n308 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nwithout our Guide; that we are groping along a \ntoilsome and uncertain way in the light of the fitful \nsparks we may strike from the stones under our \nfeet, whose flash only bewilders and then leaves us \nto denser darkness. \n\nIt is not simply that it does not please God to \ngrant the Spirit\'s guidance and help to prayerless \nsouls, but that he cannot in the higher offices of the \nHoly Ghost, for the prayerless heart shuts him out. \nThe Holy Spirit may convince such a heart of sin, \nbut he cannot " sanctify it by the truth," and by \nthe truth make it free. \n\n4. In seeking still further to know how we are to \n"prove all things" that the prophets say to us, I \nmention to you one of the most interesting and \ncomforting truths taught in the Bible or realized in \nexperience: The desire to know the truth is the vital \ncondition of knowing it. This is the universal law; \nbut it has its peculiar force and prevalency in our \nstudy of the gospel of Jesus. The desire to know \nthe truth and only the truth is the best security for \nfinding the truth in any field of inquiry. But it is \nperfect security, so far as essential saving truth is \nconcerned; so far as rights and wrongs and ques- \ntions of duty are concerned, in the field of religious \ninvestigation. All this is comprehended in the \nwords of our Lord, " If any man will do (that is, \nwills to do) his will, he shall know of the doctrine." \n\nI am not speaking of speculative " prophesyings " \non matters unsettled by divine revelation; these are \nmatters of opinion. I speak of things essential \xe2\x80\x94 the \nvital, saving truths of the gospel, and of questions \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n309 \n\n\n\nof duty, of right and wrong. Here we can "prove \nall things." "If the eye be single, the whole body \nshall be full of light." Nothing clears the mental \nvision like a fixed and absolute purpose to do the \nwill of God \xe2\x80\x94 like a sincere desire to know just the \ntruth of his word. \n\n5. This brings me to say that, in the fullest and \nhighest sense, religious truth is only known in con- \nsciousness through experience. This principle is very \nbroad, but it has its peculiar force in the sphere of \nreligion. Not long since an eminent composer was \nlooking over some anthem-music that he had just \nreceived. He did not sing, but his soul thrilled un- \nder the music that had no voice. He said to me, " I \nhear them." One who knows nothing of music \nwould not understand him. These things being \nmusical are musically discerned. It was the music \nin him that put tongues in every note upon the \npage. Beethoven composed grand and perfect har- \nmonies after he was so deaf that he could not hear \nthe orchestra. \n\nIt should not be counted a strange thing that we \nshould say of many of the higher truths of religion, \n" These things are spiritually discerned." As relig- \nious truth has its empire preeminently in man\'s \nheart, as these truths enter into consciousness, it is \nmore peculiarly true of religious than of any other \nforms of truth, they are known through experience. \n\nOur Lord and his apostles recognized this princi- \nple. So does common sense. Take one case out \nof many for illustration. The gospel promises \n"peace" in some special sense. What does this \n\n\n\n310 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nmean? Is the promise good? Is the word true? \nThis is not settled by exegesis or philosophy; it is \nsettled by experience. Who can explain it to one \nwho has no experience? The principle is not pecul- \niar to religion. Who can understand what love is? \nwho can tell another what it is where there is. no \nexperience of the grand passion? We can only \nknow by experience, and we can know perfectly by \nexperience. \n\nThis age demands the test of experiment. The \ngospel responds to the demand. There were never \nany doctrines or theories offered to men that so \ncompletely subjected themselves to experiment as \nthose truths of the gospel that concern our relations \nto men and to God. \n\nIII. "Holdfast that which is good" \n\nThe doctrine is, having " proved " what is " good," \nhold it fast. Only those who have not "proved" \nthe truth for themselves are "tossed about with \nevery wind of doctrine." Fickleness of opinion is \na great weakness; the best guard against it is can- \ndid and thorough investigation. But immutability \nis no more a human prerogative than infallibility is \na human attribute. Immutability is God\'s prerog- \native because his infinite perfections make him in- \nfallible. In him is no variableness nor shadow of \nturning, because in him is no possibility of error. \n\nHolding fast the good is a high duty. But this \ntrue firmness, this true consistency in holding fast \nto our convictions of truth and duty, is infinitely \nremoved from the weakness that clings to an opin- \nion because it was entertained yesterday, and from \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\n311 \n\n\n\nthe obstinacy of prejudice. If you are never to \nmodify your opinions, then you will never learn \nmore than you know to-day. You will, young \nmen, if you use your minds, come to the time that \nyou will find it needful to rethink the grounds of \nyour beliefs. Do not be afraid to do this when you \nfeel the need; honest reinvestigation will do you no \nhurt. What is true will be confirmed; what is false \nyou should wish to reject. What you can retain in \nthe years to come only because you once believed it, \nis not worth retaining. Error is not made sacred \nby being long entertained. A man who is a man \nwill not stand by an opinion in the face of facts \nfrom considerations of prejudice. This is not \nstrength, it is despicable weakness. No slavery is \nmore degrading than the bondage of prejudice. \nTrue consistency \xe2\x80\x94 a genuine holding fast that \nwhich is good \xe2\x80\x94 demands that you surrender what \nnew and brighter light shows to be false. This is \nno more fickleness than the winding course of a \nstreamlet swelling into a river as it seeks the sea is \nfickleness. Its true persistence is seen in its onward \nthough tortuous course. So, in the course of hu- \nman life, changes of opinion that " make for right- \neousness" are to be welcomed. It is only by mak- \ning changes that the truth requires that we can hold \nfast that which is good. If one moving down a \nstream in a boat should refuse to follow the turn of \nthe stream, he may be stranded in shallows or tossed \nupon rocks, but he will never reach the sea. \n\nSeeking the truth in the best light that God gives \nyou, " hold fast the good.\' ? The truth alone is worth \n\n\n\n312 \n\n\n\nProve All Things. \n\n\n\nstruggling, suffering, and dying for. The word here \nis to kalon \xe2\x80\x94 the fair, the noble, the beautiful. And \nSt. Paul, I suppose, uses this word because only \nthat is fair and noble, and worth loving and hold- \ning fast, which, being true and good, is therefore \nbeautiful and worth loving with all the heart. \n\nYoung men, I give you no further charge at this \ntime. Many times we have exhorted you to follow \nChrist; nearly all of you do. Follow close to him; \nwalk in his footsteps; then you are safe for both \nworlds. \n\nu Despise not prophesyings" \xe2\x80\x94 give respectful, \nmodest, and candid attention to what the prophets \ntell you. " Prove all things," for yourselves. " Hold \nfast that which is good/\' throwing off, with increase \nof years and wisdom,, all that is false, and holding \nfast forever to all that is true. "And the very \nGod of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God \nyour whole spirit and soul and body be preserved \nblameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. \nFaithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it." \n\n\n\nBACCALAUREATE ADDRESS. \n\n[COMMENCEMENT DAT, EMORY COLLEGE, OXFORD, JUNE \n28, 1882,] \n\n\n\nYOUNG men of the Class of 1882, I part with \nyou with regret and with pleasure. With re- \ngret, because as a class you have been orderly, duti- \nful, and studious beyond the average. You held up \nto the routine of college work to the last. You have \ngiven us singularly little trouble; I do not recall a \nsingle disagreeable passage with one of your num- \nber. We shall miss you next term, and we cannot \nforget you. Happy will we be if your successors do \nas well as you have done. We part with you with \npleasure, because we expect you to do well. You \nhave good training for the work that awaits you, \nand you are well furnished for the beginning of \nyour life among men. And all we claim to do is to \nhelp you to get ready to begin. Every verb you \nhave conjugated, every noun you have declined, \nevery problem you have solved \xe2\x80\x94 in a word, every \nlesson you have learned, every form of drill and \ndiscipline that you have undergone, whether in col- \nlege recitations or society debates, only makes you \nthe stronger and readier for the real work upon \nwhich you enter after to-day. Ignorant men talk \nmost absurdly of what they call " practical educa- \ntion," as if training a boy to be a man were not the \n\n(313) \n\n\n\n314 Baccalaureate Address. \n\n\n\nmost practical and useful thing in the world. In \nso far as you have used your opportunity\xe2\x80\x94 and most \nof you have used it well\xe2\x80\x94 we have not given you \ntrades and professions, hut we have prepared you to \ndo and to be any thing in this world that you are \ncapable of doing and being. Some may think I am \nboasting to-day. Be it so; yet I say to you, with \ngood conscience, for myself arid my colleagues, If \nyou fail it will not be our fault. We have stead- \nfast^ done our duty by you, and you have deserved \nthe best that any could do. \n\nWe do not expect you to fail. I could give many \nreasons for this confidence in your future. Some I \nwill mention; in some points you may not agree \nwith me. If you do not, I am inclined to believe \nthat in a few years you will reconsider your opin- \nion. The first ground I mention of my confidence \nin your success is this: there is riot a genius among \nyou; and what is better^ there is not, unless I am \ngreatly mistaken, among you a man who thinks \nhimself a genius. If any of you entertain this opin- \nion, make haste, I beg you, to lay it by with other \nfaded things \xe2\x80\x94 as the bouquets of your sophomore \ntriumphs. \n\nBut many of you have what is better than genius \n\xe2\x80\x94 the spirit of hard, plodding, patient, all-conquer- \ning work. In this spirit is " the promise and po- \ntency " of any achievement Providence calls you \nto attempt. It is hard work that wins \xe2\x80\x94 building \npyramids, tunneling mountains, making deserts \nbloom, kindling great lights in the dark places of \nthe earth, fighting the battles of truth and right- \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. \n\n\n\n315 \n\n\n\neousness, lifting the world higher, and saving your \nown souls. \n\nAnother reason I mention for my hope of you \nand confidence in you: most of you are what the \nw T orld calls poor. For this I thank God. I hope \nthere is not a man of you whose father has money \nenough for him to live without work. If there is \none, I tremble for him ; if there be one, I expect him \nto fail. Except vice, there is hardly any thing in \nthis world that so emasculates energy as gold. It \nis to be feared that you do not sufficiently appreci- \nate the blessing of poverty. \n\nIt was a rough but true kindness that led Thur- \nlow to refuse a lucrative office to the young lawyer \nwho became Lord Eldon, although he had prom- \nised it to him. Eldon said of this early disappoint- \nment: "What he meant was that he had learned \nthat I was by nature very indolent, and it was only \nwant that could make me very industrious." Had \nhe received the coveted office, he might have lived \nand died an office-holder; he would not have been \nLord Eldon. \n\nHow nobly some of you have already learned the \nuses of adversity; how bravely you have fought \nyour way through college, eking out your small \nmeans, denying yourselves, and patiently practicing \neconomy; how splendidly you have won in this con- \nflict with a poverty that does not cause you a blush \nto-day, and that in the years to come will be an in- \nspiration to others, in like case, who will come after \nyou. All this some of us know. Wherefore we \nrejoice with you to-day. And I rejoice, too, that \n\n\n\n316 \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. \n\n\n\nin this town where you have lived, and in this, col- \nlege where you have studied, money has never com- \nmanded recognition where merit did not deserve it. \n\nLet me ask you this last time I will ever see you \nall together, What are you going to do ? Some- \nthing, I am sure. Most of you must; all of you \nshould. No achievements by your ancestors can \nbuy for you exemption from the duty of work. It \nis a shame to a man to live upon the accumulations \nof others, without purpose or effort to do something \nhimself. It is a shame for any human being to be \ncontented with a life of idleness; it is a shame be- \nyond words when an educated man does nothing to \ndeserve to live in this working world. Thoreau \nputs the case well: " Be not simply good \xe2\x80\x94 be good \nfor something/\' If you are to be good for any \nthing, you must do something; with small qualifi- \ncation, we may say with Matthews, " What a man \ndoes is the real test of what he is." \n\nIt was suggested to me by a wise friend that I \nshould speak to you to-day on a choice of a profes- \nsion. Meditating upon the matter, I find the sub- \nject so large and complicated that the occasion will \nnot give me time for its proper discussion. Some \ngeneral remarks are all that I can indulge at this \ntime. \n\nFor one thing I am glad to know that you do not \npropose to divide yourselves absolutely among what \nare known as the learned professions. Some of you \nare good debaters who do not propose to be lawyers; \nsome of you can feel a pulse who do not propose to \nbe doctors; and some of you feel divinely moved to \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. 317 \n\n\n\ndo good in the world who do not feel called to preach. \nI am told that some of you will preach, some teach, \nsome practice law, some medicine. This is well \nenough ; there is room for you \xe2\x80\x94 there is always much \n\xe2\x80\xa2room in these professions \xe2\x80\x94 at the top. But these lines \ndo not suffice for you all. Some look to journalism; \nsome to civil engineering; some to farming; some \nto merchandise. There may be other fields that \nyou are contemplating. One thing is sure \xe2\x80\x94 there \nis a place for you if you are only fit for it ; or there \nwill be when you become fit. There is a great cry \nfrom the army of the unemployed that they can find \nnothing to do; this cry is answered by the great \nworld, "We cannot find men to do what sorely \nneeds to be done \xe2\x80\x94 what we are willing to pay for." \n\nYoung men, I would ring it into your ears to- \nday, It is easier to find one hundred young men in \nGeorgia who want a "first-class position" than it \nis to find one thoroughly fitted to fill such a place. \nI beg you to consider the significance of this state- \nment; it is the simple truth without a trace of ex- \naggeration. Circumstances have given me oppor- \ntunity to take an inside view of this matter, and I \ntell you plainly, we are poor in men and women \nwho are fitted to do the first-class work of either \nthe Church or the State. Hundreds can do com- \nmonplace work; many can do average work; few, \nvery few, can do the higher work that the times re- \nquire to be done. If you doubt what I tell you, ask \nthose who are called on to fill the higher places when \na vacancy occurs. I make no exceptions; my state- \nment applies to the pulpit \xe2\x80\x94 ask your bishops and \n\n\n\n818 \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. \n\n\n\nyour congregations; to schools and colleges \xe2\x80\x94 ask \nyour trustees ; to journalism \xe2\x80\x94 ask the publishers of \nthe great newspapers; to the mechanic arts \xe2\x80\x94 ask \nyour builders and contractors. I may be blamed \nand contradicted for what I am about to say; be it \nso. I am used to it; and it were better for a man \nto say what maybe false in fact, when he is honestly \nmistaken, than to say what he believes to be false. \nIt is better to be right than to be thought right. \nWhat I wish to say to you, and to the undergrad- \nuates of the college, and to the young men and \nwomen of my section, as far as my voice can reach \nthem, is this: We of the South are poorest where \nwe least suspect poverty \xe2\x80\x94 in men and women thor- \noughly qualified to do the work that our time and \nour duty and our opportunity demand at our hands. \n\nLook where you will, and the facts \xe2\x80\x94 and remem- \nber that no amount of complacent, patriotic elo- \nquence can put away facts \xe2\x80\x94 justify my statement. \nTake illustrations that are right about us. There \nare more houses to be built than there are among us \nand of our own people men who are qualified to build \nthem properly. First-class carpenters, brick-ma- \nsons, painters, blacksmiths, first-class artisans in all \ndepartments of the mechanic arts, are very scarce \namong us ; they are humiliatingly scarce, if we look \nfor men born and reared among us. The country \nis filled with men who are jacks-at-all-trades and \nmasters of none. Not one-fourth of the carpenters \namong us can do joint-work ; not one-fourth of the \nblacksmiths can shoe your horse without the risk \nof laming him; not one-fourth of the brick-masons \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address, 319 \n\n\n\ncan build a straight wall; not one-fourth of our \npainters can touch a washboard with a brush with- \nout smearing the plastering. If these statements be \ndenied, it is in order to prove honesty where com- \npetency is affirmed, and bad work cannot be de- \nnied. For no man who is familiar with the mat- \nters I am discussing, and has been far enough from \nhome to find some basis of comparison, will deny \nthat the South is filled, in city, town, and country- \nplaces, with all sorts and degrees of shoddy work. I \nexcept no class of men from this statement. As to the \nmen who adhere to the John Jasper astronomy, and \nstand to it " that the sun do move/\' what do tel- \nescopes and the mathematics signify to them? \n\nI have taken certain cases, easily understood by \nus all; especially as most of us who have tried to \nhave any sort of work properly done are sufferers. \nBut the statement holds terribly true in other than \nthe mechanic arts.. \n\n" Nothing to do," indeed ! It is not true. There \nare hundreds of things to do \xe2\x80\x94 things useful, profit- \nable, and honorable \xe2\x80\x94 if men with souls in their bod- \nies will only lay to and do them; do them earnestly, \nfaithfully, competently. Young men, and young \nwomen too, opportunities are many; they crowd \nupon you; they urge you vehemently; they offer \nyou great rewards ; they have gold and laurel crowns \nfor the worthy who dare to embrace them and are \nworthy to be crowned. Alas that so many should \nlong for successful careers who are not willing to \npay the price! \n\nLet a single illustration save the trouble of a \n\n\n\n320 \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. \n\n\n\nstatement: Men say, " There is nothing to do," and \nhere, in Newton county, there are not enough mar- \nketable butter, eggs, and chickens to satisfy the \ndemands of this commencement, and house-keepers \nmust pay tribute to distant States for the most com- \nmon of table supplies. M3 7 guests are eating butter \nfrom East Tennessee. Yet the majority of our \nyoung men would rather stand behind a counter \nand measure off ribbons than to conduct a dairy or \npoultry farm. Another illustration of the thought \nI would impress is found in the tide of deluded \nemigrants leaving such a State as Georgia, year \nafter year, dreaming of El Dorados in Texas, or in \nsome other country, where they suppose that they \ncan have an easy time. Where one succeeds, two, \nperhaps ten, fail. The failure is not in Texas, but \nin them. Such men would fail in the garden of \nEden; they would neither till nor dress it. \n\nBefore dismissing the subject of work sorely \nneeded to be done, and of men humiliatingly scarce \nwho can do it, I should call jour attention to a fact \nthat merits your consideration. It is this: work \nthat would pass twenty-five years ago will not pass \nto-day. The competitions are too sharp; this age \nrequires more of us than the preceding age did. \nYou cannot do the work with success that might \nhave made your father rich and famous without the \ncapacity to do better work than he did. Our ad- \nvancing civilization has multiplied our wants, sharp- \nened our faculties, raised our standards. Hundreds \nof men of the former generation made themselves \nfamous who could not, were they now beginning, \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. \n\n\n\n321 \n\n\n\nrepeat their careers; they could not even hold their \nown. \n\nIf harder work and better work are now required \nof us, we have commensurate encouragement and \ninspiration. Opportunity never offered greater re- \nwards for well-doing. This is preeminently true in \nthe South. There is a word I frequently hear the \nyoung men employ in their speeches \xe2\x80\x94 "Renaissance" \nI think you call it. I use it to-day for the first \ntime, I believe. Young men, this time is the Re- \nnaissance of the South, so far as time and opportu- \nnity can make it. It rests with our men and wom- \nen whether they will make an accomplished fact \nwhat history, nature, and God have made a possi- \nbility. For my part, I am sick of croakers; I am \nworn out with the prophets of evil; I am disgusted \nwith the men who have no voice except lamenta- \ntions over what they call the losses of the South, \nand no gratitude to God for her infinite and eternal \ngains. What did whining over losses ever do for \nthe world? What will croaking about impending \nevils, that will not come if we be brave and true, \never accomplish? \n\nMarius, sitting in gloomy and wrathful medita- \ntions among the ruins of Carthage, is a sorry figure. \nNehemiah, riding his mule by moonlight among \nthe ruins of Jerusalem, meditating great plans for \nthe restoration of her w T aste places, and working by \ndaylight with heroic valor and endurance to accom- \nplish w T hat he hoped for, is the man to admire and \nimitate. \n\nAgain I say, now begins the Renaissance of the \n\n\n\n322 Baccalaureate Ambuss, \n\n\n\nSouth, if her sons and daughters will have it so. \nOur fields and rivers call for us. The swelling tide \nof a true prosperity is beating against the barriers \nthat false notions and evil customs have erected. O \nthat we were wise, in this our day, to see the oppor- \ntunity that Heaven offers us! If we do not answer \nto the call that God makes upon us, others will. \nBut we will have lost o\\\\r crown. Somebody will \nivear it, for such a country as this Southern land will \nnever rest till it claims a people who know how to use it. \n\nBut you ask, "What can I do?" Do the thing \nnearest to you that you are best qualified for. You \ncannot wisely choose a profession simply on grounds \nof profit or honor. \n\nThese considerations are not to be despised, but \nthey are not the highest. No wise and good man \nwill determine his life-work by the considerations \nthat money and fame alone can offer; he will ask \nhimself, "How can I do the most good?" At the \nsame time remember, I beg you, that if you live ac- \ncording to God\'s plan of a human life you can do \nmost good in the work you can do best, whether it \nbe preaching, teaching, plowing, or building houses. \n\nIf you do not find a profession that suits you, \nmake one. James Vick, of the State of STew York, \nwho died during the flowery month of May, was \nknown and honored by millions of our people. \nForty years ago he began to raise garden and flower \nseeds. He elevated his business into a profession. \nHe has enriched untold thousands of American \ngardens with superior vegetables, and he has beau- \ntified untold thousands of American homes with the \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. 323 \n\n\n\nfairest flowers \xe2\x80\x94 doing more to cultivate a love for \nthe beautiful than all the long-haired lecturers that \never talked aesthetics before bewildered audiences. \nHe lived to become a great benefactor, giving away \nprincely fortunes in the cause of education and be- \nnevolence. \n\nThere is no country in the world to-day that offers as \nmany opportunities for honorable, comfortable, profitable, \nuseful living as this Southern country we live in. \n\nLet me tell you a true story of a man I met in \nWillimantic, Connecticut. He finished his school \ncourse about the beginning of the war between the \nStates, and went into the army. At the close of \nthe struggle he went into the machine-shops of the \ngreat manufacturing company with whose fortunes \nhe is now so closely identified. He began an appren- \nticeship, working at forty cents a day. He learned \nhis business through and through, and he is to-day \nthe chief man in an establishment whose capital \naggregates five millions of dollars. He is making \nmoney and reputation; but this is not all \xe2\x80\x94 he is \ndoing good incalculable. He is introducing into \nthe great factories he controls the principles of the \nSermon on the Mount. There is a store for the \nbenefit of the operatives, where they buy the best \nthings cheaper than they can buy them anywhere \nelse; there is a free library, well patronized, that \nwould make many a college proud. He has, in the \nconstruction and arrangement of the vast buildings \nwhere the army of operatives are employed, every \ncontrivance that ministers to good taste, to health, \nand to comfort. There are beautiful flowers in con- \n\n\n\n324 \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. \n\n\n\nservatories connected with the mills. The cottages \nof the operatives are models of neatness and com- \nfort. Compared with others I saw in the same \ntown, it was the difference between civilization and \nbarbarism. How the operatives love this man! \nYet there is no looseness of management, you may \nbe sure. There is system and science in all things. \nFor instance, they have reached this degree of ac- \ncuracy: There is an arrangement by which every \nrevolution of the great driving-wheel is counted by \na self-registering machine. This man showed me \nthe register for a series of weeks. I recall two. \nOne w r eek the great wheel turned 198,196 times; \nthe next week, 198,198 times \xe2\x80\x94 a difference of two \nturns of the giant driver that moved the whole vast \nand bewildering machinery. And this was about \nthe average in the register for many weeks. Hotv \ndid Major W. E. Barrows and those who labor with \nhim reach such perfection in attending to their \nbusiness? By attending to it; by doing their best to do \nit well. \n\nWould God that our young men knew the time \nthey live in, and appreciated the land that God has \ngiven them for a heritage ! \n\nBut I have said enough on these subjects. You \ngo your ways now; Emory\'s blessing goes with \nyou. Whatever you do, be men \xe2\x80\x94 manly men. \nClear a little space about you for your feet, and put \nthem down firmly. Do not be afraid to do right. \nHave opinions that rest on your convictions. Then \nexpress them when there is occasion. Maintain \nthem, and, if need be, suffer for them. Fear nei- \n\n\n\nBaccalaureate Address. 325 \n\n\n\nther minorities nor majorities; fear what is wrong \n\xe2\x80\x94 what is false. Do your very best, and crucify \nunto the death all petty jealousies and envies and \nsuspicions. If you cannot win the world\'s rewards \nfairly and honorably, fail. In such a case failure is \nsuccess, and what is called success is failure forever \nand ever. When some crazy pre-adventist said to \nEmerson that the world was presently coming to an \nend, he answered, "I can get on very well without \nit." Until we can get on without the world we \ncannot get on with it as God intended we should. \nKeep your ship\'s prow seaward, and sink her in \nmid-ocean before you will make a port by flying the \nenemy\'s flag. \n\nFollow the truth as one finding his way out of a \ntangled wilderness w^ould follow the clear light of \na star. In every good and right way persuade as \nmany to go with you as you can. But if you must, \ngo alone \xe2\x80\x94 rather, if there be no one with you except \nChrist the Lord, go alone. He was with the He- \nbrew children in the furnace of fire. He is the \nmajority. Keep all things right between you and \nhim. As to the rest, you " can wait," if need be, \ntill the judgment-day. \n\nMy dear boys, Emory loves and trusts you. She \ncommits her honor to you and pronounces her bless- \ning on you to-day. Be true \xe2\x80\x94 true to yourselves, to \none another, to all men, and to God. Be true to your \nsection, and to this great Union and nation that \nGod has set up as the hope of the oppressed, and \nthat he would make a blessing to all the world. \n\n\n\nKENNETH H, McLAIN; \n\nOR, THE CHRISTIAN STUDENT. \n[OXFORD, GA., SUNDAY AFTER OPENING- DAT, OCT. 8, 1882,] \n\n" Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil ; \ncleave to that which is good. Be kindly affectioned one to another \nwith brotherly love ; in honor preferring one another ; not slothful \nin business ; fervent in spirit ; serving the Lord ; rejoicing in hope ; \npatient in tribulation ; continuing instant in prayer ; distributing to \nthe necessity of saints ; given to hospitality." Romans xii. 9-13. \n\nTHE first Sunday of a college-year is always an \ninteresting and important day in this church. \nThe greetings between the old students returning, \nand the warm welcome they receive from their \nteachers and our citizens, are expressive of sincere \naffection and good-fellowship. Naturally, the new \nstudents are much observed; they are looking into \neach other\'s faces, and all of them \xe2\x80\x94 the old and the \nnew \xe2\x80\x94 are trying to read one another, to find out \nw r hat manner of men they are. There is more in \nall this than mere idle curiosity; there is genuine \nhuman interest, and with very many a true Chris- \ntian solicitude. \n\nAmong so many we may expect some triflers, who \ncome to college with no clear conception of the end \nof their coming, and no fixed purpose as to what \nthey will do. Some come only because it is the cus- \n\n(326) \n\n\n\nKenneth H. McLain; \n\n\n\n327 \n\n\n\ntorn of people of their station to send their sons to \ncollege; they will be contented when they return \nhome to say to their friends, " I have been off to \ncollege." These do not feel the need of knowledge \nor of training; they will return td thei!* homes much \nas they came, with possibly this solid gain : they will \nhave lost something of their conceit and self-satis- \nfaction. They will give sonie trouble to their teach- \ners, for, being idle, they are apt to be disorderly and \ninjurious in their influence. It is ttf be feared that \nsuch young men will acquire some additional bad \nhabits, for it is as easy as it is natural for idle peo- \nple to drift into evil currents. It is id be feared that \nthey will be harmful to some who*, had they not \ncome, might have done well in their cbllege life; for \nyour habitual idler, above all riien, w&nts company, \nand is not pleased unless he can induce others to \nfall in with his ways. I do not think that this dis- \nposition to induce others into evil wa^s is generally \ndue to vicious sentiment, or a conscious purpose to \ndo harm to others; it is rather the unrest of an idle \nmind that wants sympathetic companionship. One \nthing is clear to us who have had long observation \nin a college community! these habitual idlers will \nmake themselves troublesome to men who wish to \ndo good work; for a loafer is always a burden to a \nworker. Moreover, he is sure to be a "sponge;" \nif nothing else, he will be always seeking to borrow \nother people\'s brains. Too indolent to learn, and \ntoo proud to be utterly unprepared, he will seek all \neasy devices for getting over his lessons. Long prac- \ntice in these devices will make him skillful in them, \n\n\n\n328 \n\n\n\nKenneth H. McLain; \n\n\n\nand he is apt to acquire the feeling that he has a \nsort of natural right to have other people do his \nwork for him. If he had only staid at home, if \nhe would only return to-morrow, what a relief to \nthe serious and diligent students of the college! I \nhave perhaps said more about this sort of student \nthan he deserves, but it is impossible to ignore \nhim. \n\nBut among so many some come to do their best, \nand some day they will make the world better. \n\nI said that the first Sunday in a college-year is an \nimportant day with us. It is so for many reasons; \ntwo I mention. On this day many new students \npresent the evidence of their membership in their \nchurches at home and identify themselves with us \nfor a time in the fellowship of our church in Oxford. \nAnother reason is, it has grown to be a custom with \nus to have the communion of the Lord\'s Supper on \nthe first Sunday of a college-year. On these occa- \nsions many devoted young men, during past years, \nhave consecrated themselves anew to lives of Chris- \ntian duty and service. \n\nAnother element of interest enters into this morn- \ning\'s service \xe2\x80\x94 it is the home-love that follows you \nhere. I need not dwell upon this; many of your \nhearts are now full of the pure and tender filial love \nand gratitude you feel for your parents at this hour. \nOne gracious result in every right-minded boy when \nhe goes from home is this : he learns as he never \nknew before how much he loves his father and \nmother. Only a fool is ashamed of the tender feel- \ning this discovery awakens. To me, young men, it \n\n\n\nOr, The Christian Student. 329 \n\n\n\nis a sweet and cheering thought that at this hour, \nin many churches, there are good men and women \nwho can hardly listen to their preachers for think- \ning of and praying for you. But these things can- \nnot be put into words; only God understands the \npathetic solicitude with which parents follow their \nchildren when they go out into the world, whether \nto school or to business. \n\nI would like, at this point, to say a few words to \nyou concerning the real end of a college life, like \nthat which we offer you here. It is expected that \nyou will learn many things of practical utility. In \nthe languages, in mathematics, in the sciences, in \nethics, in metaphysics, you study that you may gain \nknowledge* You cannot overestimate the value of \nsuch knowledge; but there is an end to be achieved \nmore important than even this. I mean your thor- \nough training. The information you will gain is \ninvaluable, I grant you; the discipline of mind that \nyou should acquire while gaining this information, \nand in the very processes by which you gain it, is \nalso beyond price. A college training should give \nyou the fullest use of your best powers. To express \nsubstantially the same idea in different words : the \ncollege not only desires to make scholars of you, but, \nin the very best sense, and after the noblest ideals, \nto make men of you. \n\nWith these views I say, a college that is not \nChristian in all its convictions and inspirations is \nfatally lacking in the conditions and influences nec- \nessary to the accomplishment of this highest end \nof true education \xe2\x80\x94 the making of men \xe2\x80\x94 strong, \n\n\n\n330 \n\n\n\nKenneth Bt. McLain; \n\n\n\nbroad, intelligent, wise, pure, and true men. Young \nmen, it is with gratitude to God this morning that \nI can say to you, without reserve or doubt, it is a \nChristian college and community that welcome you \nto-day. \n\nIn what time remains for this discourse I am \ngoing to commend to you the example of one who \nwas four years among us, and whose life was such \nthat we may well speak of him as The Christian Stu- \ndent. I speak of the Rev. Kenneth H. McLain, who \nentered the freshman class in the fall of 1876; who, \nhaving completed the full course of four years, grad- \nuated with much credit in 1880; who, in October of \nthat year \xe2\x80\x94 with his young wife, and his classmates \nGeorge Loehr and Hector Park \xe2\x80\x94 was appointed \na missionary to China. Most of you know the sad \nand moving story of his return to America. A few \nweeks ago he "fell on sleep\' 3 and "was not," for \nGod took him. \n\nThis is not a funeral discourse! I wish to teach \nsome lessons from the student-life of the devoted \nyoung missionary whose departure from this world \nwe lamented. Let me read the text again. St. Paul\'s \nwords describe with singular felicity and accuracy \nthe life and character of Kenneth McLain while a \nstudent in Emory College: \n\n"Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that \nwhich is evil; cleave to that which is good. Be \nkindly afiectioned one to another with brotherly \nlove; in honor preferring one another; not sloth- \nful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord; \nrejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continu- \n\n\n\nOr, The Christian Student. \n\n\n\n331 \n\n\n\ning instant in prayer; distributing to the necessity \nof saints; given to hospitality." \n\nI knew him about as well as it is possible for one \nman to know another. Two years he lived in my \nfamily, and was as a son to me. I do not say too much \nwhen I say the words I have read are not too strong \nas descriptive of the spirit and life of my dear boy \nwho has " passed into the heavens," and of whom \nmen say, "He is dead." Yerse nine describes Mc- \nLain\'s sincerity of spirit and purity of heart. There \nwas no dissimulation in his love or life. His soul \nwas open to all light; his lips were without guile; \nhis life was without deceit. The truth was in him, \nand the truth had made him free. No man among \nhis fellows wanted corroborative evidences when he \nmade a statement ; his word was enough ; none who \nknew him could suspect the veracity of his speech \nor the sincerity of his convictions. There could not \nbe dissimulation in his professions of love, for his \nsoul abhorred that which was evil and cleaved to that \nwhich was good. I am not, in what I say to you \nthis morning, idealizing a deceased friend ; the man, \nwhile he was among us, was what I tell you. This \nconception of his character did not come to me after \nhe was dead; it grew upon me daily while he was \nwith us. It was his life, not his death, that made \nme sure I did not misjudge him. I believe that \nthere was just one thing that he hated \xe2\x80\x94 he " ab- \nhorred that which was evil," Rarely have I known \nmen or women, young or old, who recoiled with \nmore horror from moral evil. He apprehended with \nintense vividness in his conceptions the essential \n\n\n\n332 Kenneth H. McLaIn; \n\n\n\nsinfulness of sin and the ineffable beauty of holi- \nness. \n\nYerse ten describes McLain\'s relations to his fel- \nlow-students* He was kindly affectioned to them; \nhe loved them with brotherly love. Many students \nI have known whose interest in the welfare of their \nfellow-students was constant; I have never known \none who loved them more. He was true to his lit- \nerary society, devoted to his club; but his love was \nnot confined to those who wore his colors or whose \nbadges were like his own. He had loving friends \nin all ranks and circles of college life, for he 46 showed \nhimself friendly" to all. Naturally, he was a poor \npartisan; but when a difficulty was to be settled, a \ntrouble pacified, a breach healed, McLain was called \nfor and listened to. He was marvelously free \xe2\x80\x94 per- \nfectly free, so far as I could ever see \xe2\x80\x94 from that bane \nof student life, the envy of rivals. There were some \nwho surpassed him in their class standing; but \ntheir success cast no shadow on him; he was glad \nwhen they were crowned; he could do what not \nevery one can do with hearty good- will, " rejoice \nwith them that rejoice." As well as any young \nman I have known, he understood that saying of \nour Lord: " Except ye be converted, and become as \nlittle children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of \nheaven." \n\nVerse eleven describes McLain\'s methods and \nspirit in relation to all duties: he was diligent in \nbusiness; he was fervent in spirit; he was always \nserving the Lord. He might have said at any time \n\xe2\x80\x94 though I never heard him say any thing like it \xe2\x80\x94 \n\n\n\nOr, The Christian Student. 333 \n\n\n\n" Thou, Lord, art ever before me." I think I can \nsay very safely, he never shirked a single college \nduty of any sort. Had he studied only to secure a \ngood class standing, or to win the praise of men, his \nmotive would have failed him at some point. There \nis but one inspiration to duty that can be relied upon \nat all times: it is the thought of God and our duty \nto him. With our now translated and glorified \nbrother every duty had such dignity and worth that \nit commanded his loyal effort to perform it. I give \nhim this high praise: it never entered his mind to \ndodge a lesson by the invention of an inglorious ex- \ncuse. He would have felt himself simply disgraced \nto have performed a college duty in the mere letter \nthat he denied in spirit. As, for example, to have \ngone to the church-door and then to have gone at \nonce elsewhere, and to have answered at Monday\'s \nroll-call in chapel, "At church." He would have \ncounted such a thing as lying; and it is lying. He \nwould have esteemed it as profanation; and it is \nprofanation. \n\nMcLain came to college to get all the good and \nto do all the good possible to him. IsTot many men \nor women do their best ; I believe he did. It was \nmore than once said of him, as was said of Stone- \nwall Jackson at West Point: " So great was his im- \nprovement upon himself that had the college course \ntaken ten years, instead of four, he would have out-* \nstripped all his fellows." \n\nOne summer vacation he spent with me. He asked \nire to suggest a line of reading. I said, " Will you \ndo what I tell you? " He answered, with a sort of \n\n\n\n334 \n\n\n\nKenneth H. McLain; \n\n\n\nopen-eyed wonder at my question, " I will." " Well," \nsaid I, "yon must not simply read for information; \nyou must learn how to investigate, how to run down \na subject. Take the life and times of Cromwell. \nHere is a history of England; read these chapters \nfirst. Here are the cyclopedias; read all that they \nsay of Cromwell and of the men of his time. Here \nare Carlyle\'s volumes concerning Cromwell\'s life \nand letters; read them. Then read all that the \nessayists say of him, and every thing else by compe- \ntent writers that you can find." He spent the three \nmonths reading about Cromwell, and wrote a very \nfull essay that would have done credit to an older \ninvestigator. The duty-idea ran like a golden thread \nthrough the entire warp of his college work. No \nwonder he improved upon himself. \n\nVerse twelve describes the type of his piety. He \nrejoiced in hope ; he was patient in trial ; he was in- \nstant in prayer. There was neither sourness nor \ngloom in his religion. There was neither Pharisaic \ndisplay nor Puritanic hardness. He was far from \ngayety \xe2\x80\x94 that is mostly a matter of temperament, \nand his was too serious and devout for gayety. But \nhis gravity of deportment was not in the least affect- \ned. He could laugh when amused, and when the \nspell was on him he laughed vigorously. His relig- \nious joy was very nearly a constant quantity, and \nlargely because it grew out of his habitual experi- \nence; it was not spasmodic. Sometimes his exulta- \ntion of spirit broke the bounds of ordinary reserve, \nand his rejoicing w r as great. For the most part \nsuch rejoicings were over victories won in the res- \n\n\n\nOr, The Christian Student. \n\n\n\n335 \n\n\n\ncue of his companions from sin, and not in the exu- \nberance of mere personal good-feeling. I recall one \nof his jubilant moods. It was in my sitting-room \none night during the " Christmas revival." Some \nfriends had been converted, and " Mack " was lifted \nup. How shall I describe to you who did not know \nhim his "patience in tribulation?\'\' It cannot be \ndescribed. This phase of his experience appeared \nin its full-orbed luster when the trouble came that \nbrought him back from China. He had without \nreserve given himself to the work of preaching \nChrist in that land of darkness with its crowding \nmillions. On that subject I knew his inmost \nthoughts. He expected to be buried there. Then \ncame the breaking up of all his plans and the wreck- \ning of all his hopes. His return to us was like a \ntragedy. How could he bear it? Xot by any sud- \nden development of manly strength or philosophic \ncomposure. When his trial came there was the \ngathered strength of years of consecrated living to \nmeet it. I have seen many men in " tribulation; " \nnot one have I known who surpassed Kenneth Mc- \nLain in Christian patience. \n\nI say Christian patience, for it was not the grim \nfortitude of the stoic; it was not the insensibility \nof dull and dumb despair. Every fiber of his nat- \nure was quivering with agony, his heart was nigh \nto breaking, but in it all he had "the peace that \npasseth all understanding." In all that came upon \nhim he did not "charge God foolishly." Providen- \ntial circumstances kept him in Atlanta from April \nto the close of 1881. A man was needed in the work \n\n\n\n336 \n\n\n\nKenneth H. McLain; \n\n\n\nof the city missions \xe2\x80\x94 a pastor had died. McLain gave \nhimself to that work as fervently as if he had never \nthought of China. Returning to his own Confer- \nence, he received his appointment and went to his \ncircuit as if he had never done anj 7 thing else. Soon \ncame his sickness. He was never well again. His \nsickness and death I do not dwell upon \xe2\x80\x94 it was an \neasy victory for him who had conquered his fight \nof faith a year before. Last summer, while he lay- \nsick in our town, some of you saw in him, it is true, \nthe marks of wounds; and this did not surprise \nthose who know something of the deeper experi- \nences of religion. But you saw more than this \xe2\x80\x94 \nyou saw the trophies of his triumph. Not once did \nI catechise him about his spiritual state while he \nwas getting ready " to put on immortality." But \none clay of himself he opened the subject, and he \nsaid this to me: "I am willing to get well and \nwork on ; I am willing to die and rest. God will \ndo right.*\' It was Jesus who said in Gethsemane, \n" Thy will, not mine, be done." When a man about \nto go hence talks in that way there is no room for \nlamentation; it were better to sing an anthem. \n\nYerse thirteen describes his instinct of usefulness. \nIn his short and broken life there was little oppor- \ntunity to show hospitality in the literal and ordina- \nry sense, and little he had of this world\'s goods to \ndistribute. But St Paul\'s Greek means, to give it \nmore literally, " sharing in the necessities of saints." \nThis he did to the utmost of his opportunity. His \nheart throbbed with quick and intense sympathy \nwhen others suffered. When he could help, he \n\n\n\nOr, The Christian Student. 337 \n\n\n\nhelped promptly; when he could not, he suffered \nwith those who suffered. There was not a drop of \nselfish, narrow blood in him. The man who was \nsorry when others failed, and was glad when they \nhad success, could not fail to help all who needed \nwhat he could give. He did not " live unto him- \nself." \n\n\n\nI shall love him always and forget him never. In \nmany places and in many relations his image will \nrise before me. But there are some occasions which \nI recall with most vividness: I can almost see him \nwhen I think of him. The first is the day he came \nto Oxford to enter college. He promptly reported \nat my office. The tall, angular, awkward, and em- \nbarrassed boy seems almost to be before me now. \nWhen we had shaken hands and he had taken a \nchair, he broke silence in thiswise: "Dr. Haygoocl, \nI have not had good opportunities; I know very \nlittle; but I have come to do my best." His face \nwas beautiful in its candor, and truth was in the \nvery tones of his voice. \n\n1 recall the night \xe2\x80\x94 it was about mid night \xe2\x80\x94 he broke \nto me his sacred secret \xe2\x80\x94 his purpose to offer himself \nfor China. How his "fervent spirit" glowed in his \nface and eyes! How he thrilled me with the hum- \nble, devout tones of his voice! I recall the paling \nand flushing of his face, and the intense look in his \neyes that memorable Commencement-Sunday after- \nnoon in June, 1880, when he and Loehr and Park \ntalked to you, standing just there. I recall the glad \nlight of his face as he kissed me good-by when in \n22 \n\n\n\n338 \n\n\n\nKenneth H. McLain; \n\n\n\nthe October following, about sunrise one morning, \nthey started westward toward the field of their \nchoice and love. And I recall him the day he \ngrasped my hand in Atlanta when he had come \nback, with his great grief of disappointment and \nhis great burden of anxiety. There was no need \nfor him to tell me in words that day that his faith \nwas firm, that his soul was staid on God. The first \nlook out of his eyes told me that. \n\nBut they say he is dead \xe2\x80\x94 this model Christian stu- \ndent, this heroic young missionary. The necessities \nof language require us to use such words, but so \nfar as the real man \xe2\x80\x94 the man of whom I have been \nspeaking to you \xe2\x80\x94 is concerned, Kenneth McLain is \nnot dead. In any sense that makes death a fearful \nthing such a man never dies. Sometimes they build \nmemorial tombs over young men of promise who \nhave passed away in the morning of their life. A \ncommon form is a broken column, to indicate a \nmarred life. It is not a Christian symbol. Who \nknows what success is? Who knows enough of \nGod\'s ways and of eternity to say of an old saint \nwho w r orked all through his long day, praised by \nall and honored by all 9 that he succeeded, and that \nthe young man who fell on the field of battle at the \nfirst onset failed? Such a life as McLain\'s cannot \nbe a failure; his influence lives here in this college, \nand there are Emory boys in more States than one \nwhom God gave to his college-ministry as the first- \nfruits of his harvest. Who can tell how far, how \nwide, how deep may be the ministry of McLain as \nperpetuated in these, his sons in the gospel? \n\n\n\nOr, The Christian Student. 339 \n\n\n\nAnd it seems to me very foolish and heathenish \nto use such words as "blighted lives/ J as "failure," \nabout one who so uses this world as to get well \nready for the next. As if there were need of good \nmen only here; as if good men can only do good \nwhile in the flesh ! In God\'s natural world there is \nno waste; much less in his spiritual world. It is \nwell that McLain struggled through college ; it is \nwell that he went to China; it is well that he re- \nturned to America ; it is well that he has gone out \nof this world into heaven. For all I know he may \nbe more useful to this world out of the body than \nin the body. What we call death does not dissipate \nspiritual energy, any more than the decay ; of spring- \nflowers or forest-oaks annihilates the substance that \ngave them form and color. \n\nSpirit abides. McLain and all the good people \nwho have gone out of this world are now as much \na part of the spiritual and redeeming forces of the \nuniverse as they ever were. And character abides. \nWherever he is to-day, whatever he is doing, the \nwords of our text describe him. \n\nWhile we engage in this precious communion \nservice, let us ask more of the mind of Christ, that \nwe also may rejoice in hope, be patient in tribula- \n. tion, and continuing instant in prayer, may receive \nat the last a crown of life. \n\n\n\nTHE NEW SOUTH \n\nFROM A SOUTHERN STAND-POINT, \n[A SPEECH, 5 -] \n\n\n\nOVERNOR LONG, I thank you for the gra- \n\\ZJC cious and graceful introduction you have given \nme. During the last three weeks I have been speak- \ning in New England, and I have begun by saying, \n" Ladies and gentlemen;" but to-day and here I \nsay, " Fellow-citizens." And why should I not use \nthese words? Georgia and Massachusetts both be- \nlong to the original thirteen. The first place I vis- \nited in your city was Bunker Hill, and I have looked \nat that part of the bay where they emptied the tea- \nchests. \n\nA few days ago I read President Arthur\'s mes- \nsage. My heart burned within me with gratitude \nand hope that it contained no reference to "the \nSouth " as a peculiar section of the country. Mr. \nVice-president Davis says it is the first message in \n\n* Delivered in Tremont Temple, Boston, Massachusetts, at noon \nMonday, December 12, 1881. This speech was delivered in sub- \nstance in fifteen other cities and towns of New England. December \n12th, Governor Long, of Massachusetts, presided, and introduced the \nspeaker with many kind references to the South. Bishop E. S, \nFoster offered prayer. \n(340) \n\n\n\nThe New SouM. \n\n\n\n341 \n\n\n\nforty years that has not contained such a reference. \nIt is a good omen. As it seems to me, there is \nhardly any thing so desirable as that the South \nshould be thought of. as simply part of the Nation, \nas is the North, the East, the West, and that it \nshould think of itself in this way. \n\nTO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. \nAs I am to talk to you of the " New South " I \nhave little to do with history. I have little to do \nwith yesterday except to repent of its sins, to learn \nwisdom from its failures, and to be grateful for its \nblessings. But I do not recall it now, neither your \nyesterday nor ours* As to whatever was bitter in \nany of its experiences, it is time for wise and good \npeople to say, " Let the dead bury their dead." \n\n"THE SOUTH." \nThat part of the United States that is called " The \nSouth " is a large part of North America. It may \nbe described as extending from Delaware, along the \nAtlantic and Gulf coasts, to Mexico; going west- \nward, it embraces all south of the Ohio River. West \nof the Mississippi would be counted as of the South \n\xe2\x80\x94 Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, and the empire * \nof Texas. The South contains fifteen of the States \nof the Union; five of them belonging to the " orig- \ninal thirteen." These States embrace a territory of \nnearly nine hundred thousand square miles, some- \nthing more than twelve times the territory of New \nEngland. You have but one State as large as our \nsmallest. Texas would make four New Englands; \nit would make two hundred and ten of Rhode Island. \n\n\n\n342 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\n(But if we compare manufactures, and not acres, I \nam afraid that Rhode Island would make two hun- \ndred and ten of Texas.) \n\nIN VARIETY OF SOILS, CLIMATES, \n\nproductions of the earth, and minerals, I suppose \nthat no country can surpass the South. Nature \ngave the first comers to this region a good start and \na fair chance. The South produces nearly all the \nvarieties of food, vegetable and animal, that civilized \nman cares for. Few, if any, countries can show such \na variety of woods and minerals. To illustrate how \ngreat is this variety and range of productions in \nthe South, take my own State of Georgia for ex- \nample. In the northern counties of the State, a re- \ngion traversed by the Blue Ridge range of mount- \nains, may be found in perfection the vegetables and \nfruits common to mountainous and northern coun- \ntries, as cabbages, potatoes, apples, buckwheat, etc. \nThe middle part of the State produces all the most \nvaluable cereals ; it abounds in the most useful \nfruits and vegetables. In the southern counties we \nhave rice, sugar-cane, oranges, bananas, and many \nof the best tropical and semi-tropical productions. \nIn South Georgia are found vast stretches of long- \nleaf pine forests, affording the best of lumber, and \nsustaining hundreds of turpentine distilleries. (We \nhave found these distilleries much less injurious than \ndistilleries of a different, class.) The northern part \nof Georgia, south of the Blue Ridge, is a true gold- \nbearing region. In some counties we find copper, \nin others slate and the finest building-stone; in \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. 343 \n\n\n\nNorth-west Georgia, coal. Nearly as much may be \nsaid of half a dozen Southern States. The coal and \niron fields of Tennessee and North Alabama are said \nby experts to be practically inexhaustible. \n\nSOME DEVELOPMENTS OF LATE YEARS \n\nare surprising some of the older people. For in- \nstance, the cotton and sugar-cane belts have moved \nnorthward from one to two hundred miles. In my \nown county of Newton, on about the same parallel \nwith Atlanta, a number of farmers, I am told, have \nthis year made large quantities of the best sirup \nfrom genuine ribbon-cane. Twenty years ago it was \nthought that sugar-cane would not grow so high up \nthe country. And cotton is now produced profita- \nbly a hundred miles north of where it was consid- \nered, in old times, an unprofitable crop. But sinje \nProvidence set our white people free, they have \nu found out many inventions." % \n\nButthese matters cannot be further discussed atthis \ntime ; a few samples will suffice for those who know \nsomething of the productions of other countries. \n\nThe great export staples of the South, as all men \nknow, are tobacco, chiefly confined to Virginia, \nNorth Carolina, Kentucky, and parts of Tennessee; \nsugar, Louisiana furnishing the greater portion of \nthis product; and cotton, Virginia, Kentucky, and \nMissouri affording but a small part of this greatest \nof Southern products. \n\nIf the world wants it, the cotton -belt can produce \nten times any crop it ever raised. For we have \nfound that by high culture we can produce three \n\n\n\n344 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\ntimes the average crop, and one-fourth of the cotton- \nlands have not been brought under the plow. And \nwhen this country becomes \xe2\x80\x94 as it will at no very \ndistant period \xe2\x80\x94 the home of three hundred millions \nof people, we will need sixty millions of bales. \n\nIt would be difficult to draw a just outline pict- \nure of this vast region, to give a fair account of its \nnatural resources and of its industries, in a single \naddress. How impossible to make a full statement \nof life in the South \xe2\x80\x94 a far more complicated subject \nfor investigation and discussion. \n\nTHE ORDINARY \'\'BIRD\'S-EYE VIEW" \n\nthe mere tourist gives of a country is well named ; \ngenerally only a bird\'s observation and wisdom are \nback of it. The migratory birds \xe2\x80\x94 wild geese for ex- \nample, in their annual flights northward and south- \nward \xe2\x80\x94 as they fly look down upon fields and forests, \nhamlets and cities. Xo doubt they have their views \nof all these things and report them to their friends, \njust as mere tourists do who glimpse a country from \ncar-windows, reading books or papers for the most \npart, when they are not asleep. \n\nI have never been in New England (so much the \nworse for me) before this time. Suppose now that \nI write home to our papers my views of New. En- \ngland, its climate, soil, and productions; my notions \nand guesses as to the characteristics of your people, \nthe nature of your institutions, the tendencies of \nyour civilization, and other such infinitely compli- \ncated matters, making up my mind about you and \nall your affairs in the cars, on the streets, at lunch- \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stan^-poIm** 345 \n\n\n\ncounters, in railroad eating-houses^ hotels, in the \nfew households I visit, or even by looking into the \nfaces of an audience like this. I should make many \nmistakes, injurious to you or complimentary over- \nmuch. And if I come among you with a prejudice \nthat tended to make my eye contract under the in- \nfluence of light, I should be tempted to affirm of you \niv hat I did not know to be true^ which I take to be the \nmost harmful form of lying practiced among men. \n\n" In this world," says an old German proverb, \n"the eye sees what it brings capacity for seeing." \nThere are plenty of things to see if there be only an \neye. With equal truth it may be said the eye sees \nwhat it looks for, as the humming-birds and butter- \nflies always find the brightest flowers, and the vult- \nures always find the dead things. It was Parker, \nthe London preacher, or some other man who had \nthe Christ spirit in him, who prayed that 66 we may \nhave grace to see the best things in each other" To this \nprayer all good people will say "Amen." \n\nTHE PEOPLE MORE THAN THE LAND. \n\nThe true student of a country concerns himself \nmore about the people than the land; if for no other \nreason, because, as the history of New England \nshows, there is more in the people than in the land. \nIn the South there are about sixteen millions of peo- \nple \xe2\x80\x94 a respectable part of the fifty millions that \nmake up the population of the United States. Un- \nless we wish to lapse into savagery, the people of \nthe different sections of the Union cannot afford to \nhate each other, or even to think evil of each other \n\n\n\n346 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nas classes. The devil is in all wholesale denunciation. \nIf there is one supreme civil duty that this hour \ncalls for, it is the burial of sectional animosities. If \nthere is one civil crime the most unpardonable, it \nwould be for us to hand down to our innocent chil- \ndren the heat and bitterness of a quarrel for which \nthey, at least, are not responsible. \n\nOf the sixteen millions, about ten millions are \nwhite, and six millions are negroes. (I use the word \nnegro because it means black*) Each race is homo- \ngeneous in itself. The white people are nearly all \nof English descent^ and nearly all Protestant. In \nGeorgia, for instance, according to the last census, \nin a total population of 1,538,983, only 10,310 are of \nforeign birth* \n\nPURE-BLOOD AFRICANS. \nOf the six millions of colored people in the South, \nthe overwhelming majority are pure-blood Africans, \nthough many lighter skins among them show the \nmixture of races. The white blood betrays itself. \nThis explains, in part, the hasty and erroneous con- \nclusions of those who give "bird\'s-eye views" of the \nSouth. They think that there are very large num- \nbers of mulattoes among us. They are mistaken, \nand not unnaturally. A score of black children are \npassed unnoticed; one mulatto is observed. An- \nother fact should be considered: most of the half- \nbreeds are found in towns and cities, and from \ntowns and cities tourists get their impressions of \na country. But the great mass of Southern pop- \nulation is in the rural districts. This should also \nbe added as a part of the statement of this case: \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-poIn*. \n\n\n\n347 \n\n\n\nfew mulattoes have been born during the last six- \nteen years. \n\nOF THE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NEGRO \npopulation of the South there is only time to give \nyou a hurried sketch. When they were set free \nthey had little but their trained muscle and their \nhope. Of many of them this should be added \xe2\x80\x94 their \nfaith in God. This also: they had the good-will of \nthe great majority of the Southern white people, \nparticularly of the minority that once owned them as \nslaves. And now the former slave-holders are more \npatient with them than are those of our people who \nnever owned them; they are more patient with them \nthan are Northern people who have come South \nsince the war. During the last sixteen years many \nof them have had a sharp struggle for existence. \nMany of our white people have had a similar expe- \nrience* A few of these emancipated people have \nshown good capacity for business, and have accumu- \nlated handsome properties. A large number have \nbuilt themselves humble dwellings, which are their \nown, and a few have gained some foothold in the \nsoil and are the owners of small farms. Most of \nthem depend for subsistence on their daily labor, \nand the great majority are at work on the farms and \nplantations, as hired laborers, or as tenants on con- \ntracts renewable at the end of each year. \n\nHOW THEY LIVE. \nThey have this advantage of the laboring classes \nof some other countries and sections: they are not \nsubject to " lockouts;" they are not victimized by \n\n\n\n348 \n\n\n\nTHi: Kew Sottas \n\n\n\n" strikes; " nor are they liable to be thrown out of \nemployment by " panics " or suspensions; for agri- \nculture does not suspend. It may be questioned \nwhether the laboring classes of any country are so \ncertain of employment as are the negroes of the \nSouth who really w T ish to work. They are begin- \nning to appear upoti the tax -books as land-owners. \nThus, in Georgia, according to the report of the \nComptroller-general for 1880 (and I take Georgia \nonly because the figures were accessible to me, and \nI did not wish to guess), they own of " improved \nlands 3 \' 586,664 acres\xe2\x80\x94 -a showing most creditable to \nthem. And of these negro landowners this may \nbe said with certainty \xe2\x96\xa0 they are more satisfactory \nas neighbors and citizens than are those who do not \nown land. A little land does more to elevate him \nas a citizen than even the wonder-working ballot \nitself. They live, most of them, in small and un- \ncomfortable cabins. But thkgives them less trouble \nthan Northern people may suppose. They have had \na good training in order to contentment with small \nthings; the climate favors them; most of them have \nenough to eat, and in winter fuel enough to keep them \nwarm. They will spend their last dime for food or \nfuel, and if it comes to the pinch will get it else- \nwise. (Some white men, I have observed, employ \nsimilar methods.) The negro is constitutionally and \nhabitually a meat-eater; it may be well questioned \nwhether the common laborer of any country has as \nmuch meat to eat as the Southern negro. A fence \nrarely survives a severe winter if it be close to a ne- \ngro settlement in a town or village where wood is \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point, \n\n\n\n349 \n\n\n\nscarce. The average negro will burn his own fence \nwithout compunction or hesitation. I have a negro \nneighbor who has burned his own fence and part of \nmine four winters in succession. 55~ext spring he \nand I will make a new fence. \n\nFew of them are skilled workmen \xe2\x80\x94 the best me- \nchanics among them learned their trades when they \nwere .slaves. Free Southern negroes and Southern \nwhite boys are alike in one thing at least \xe2\x80\x94 they are \nimpatient of apprenticeship. This is one reason why \nthe South is so far behind in the mechanic arts. \n\nAS A CLASS THEY ABE NOT SYSTEMATIC \n\nin their plans and labors; few of them know how \nto lay by for a " rainy day." When they were slaves \nthey had no motive for economy; when old or worn \nout their masters provided for them as no great cor- \nporation provides for its disabled servants. The \nexceptions to this statement were few \xe2\x80\x94 the master \nwho did not provide for his sick or disabled negroes \nlost caste. Their lack of foresight and economy \nmay be well explained by their antecedents; some \nof them antedating their coming to America. \n\nBut poor aud shiftless as they are, they are im- \nproving; they are not slipping back into barbarism, \nand they are not dying out. (The last census shows \nthat they increase somewhat faster than does the \nwhite race.) The tax-books show that they are be- \nginning to produce a little more than they consume. \nThey live better than they did ten years ago. \n\nMany of them drink whisky when they can get \nit. As a race, they are fond\' of strong drink \xe2\x80\x94 as \n\n\n\n350 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nall races are. But I think as to sobriety they will \ncompare favorably with the common laborers of \nother races and countries. But when it comes to \ntemperance reform, they wi\\\\ not do to depend on \novermuch. Witness the prohibition movement in \nNorth Carolina, last summer, when the revenue offi- \ncers voted them almost solid in favor of the bar- \nrooms. \n\nTheir conventional moral code allows more mar- \ngin than is consistent with sound ethics. But they \nare not so bad as many Northern, as well as South- \nern, writers have represented them to be. The fact \nis, too much attention has been concentrated on the \nSouth for just judgments, either as to the negroes \nor the whites. \n\nUNTAUGHT. \n\nOne of the saddest facts of their lot is that most \nof them are very ignorant. The majority of them \nare untaught. (Many of our white people are in \nthe same condition.) Few ex -slaves can read. \nWhile slavery lasted, there was small chance to \nteach them; some w^ere taught, nevertheless. A \nfew ex-slaves have learned to read since they be- \ncame free\xe2\x80\x94greatly to their credit. Thousands of \nthe younger race can read and write and cipher \xe2\x80\x94 \nif not after the best models, yet profitably. Many \nof them have learned these things after the best \nmodels. (Witness, for instance, specimens of the \nschool-work done by negro boys and girls in the \npublic schools of Atlanta \xe2\x80\x94 some of it as good as the \nbest.) One of the most encouraging signs of their \nprogress and uplifting is this: It is fast becoming a \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point, 351 \n\n\n\npoint of honor with colored parents that their chil- \ndren learn to read and write. \n\nAlas that there ever was any hinderance to their \neducation ! God be thanked, there is now next to \nno opposition to their instruction, Where you can \nfind one heathen man or benighted neighborhood \nopposing their education, I can find twenty that \nfavor it. \n\nTHEIR DISPOSITIONS, \n\nAs a class they are obliging, good-tempered, and \nmi revengeful. Their disposition to help one another \nis wonderful. They have many relief societies that \nhelp in sickness or other distress, Their treasurers \nare held to strict accountability. Few bank direct- \nors watch cashiers so closely. But some negroes \nare as dishonest and mean as any white man, and \nnow and then one ^absorbs" the funds of the soci- \nety. But they do not say, " He has been unfortu- \nnate; has overdrawn;" that he is a "defaulter." \nThey express themselves plainly; they say, "That \nnigger is a thief." And they are right. (When- \never a negro wishes to express his contempt, or to \njeer at one of his fellows, he pronounces the word \nas if spelled with two "g\'s") \n\nI do not at this time go into a discussion of their \nfuture. I content myself by saying these six mill- \nion, and those who come after them, are in this \ncountry to stay, for the most part, and chiefly in \nthose sections where they now are. What was \ncalled the "exodus\' 5 turned out to be an immense \nword for a small affair. In some respects it would \nbe well if fifty or one hundred thousand of them \n\n\n\n352 \n\n\n\nThe New\' South \n\n\n\ncould settle in each one of the New England \nand Middle States. It would give knowledge of \nthis problem where it is needed, and teach pa- \ntience. \n\nTHEY INCREASE IN NUMBERS. \n\nThere is nothing like it this side the land of Goshen. \nThe census shows an increase between 1870 and \n1880 of 34.78 per cent. This is larger than the \npercentage of total increase in the entire population. \nThey have multiplied nine times in the last hundred \nyears. \n\nPeople that can think need no help to see that in \nthe relations of two such races in this country, this \nNation has a problem of no ordinary magnitude to \nsolve. The true solution of this problem is not a \nparty matter. The Republican party is a big thing, \nas we of the South have found out, but it is not big \nenough to settle the questions of which I am speak- \ning to-day; nor is any party or section. It will \ntake the Christian sense and conscience of this \nwhole people. \n\nThese questions cannot be settled on any narrow party \nor " sectional basis." They mast be settled on the foun- \ndation of the Declaration of Independence and the Con- \nstitution of the United States; above ad, upon the Ten \nCommandments and the Sermon on the Mount. \n\nTHE PREMATURE BALLOT. \n\nThe difficulties of our case are greatly increased \nby the fact that the ballot was given to the negro \nbefore he was ready to receive it. I refer now \nto an unpleasant matter. But this is the land of \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point, 358 \n\n\n\nfree speech. I can now speak of these things \nwithout passion, and you must hear me without \nprejudice. \n\nYou people of the North put a tremendous strain \nupon the institutions of our country when you made \nevery recently enfranchised negro man a voter, dis- \nfranchising, at the same time, thousands of our \nwhite people. Did it, too, when the wide and deep \nsea of our national life was still rocking and seeth- \ning under the blasts of a four-years\' storm. \n\nIn times of great excitement the majority do not \nthink; they only feel. But the most far-sighted of \nour Southern people clearly saw that the ballot was \none of the logical sequences of the events of the \nwar. But they did think that it should have been \naccompanied with some condition (not so hard, Gov- \nernor Long, as Rhode Island and Massachusetts \nhave imposed upon white men), but something, as \nthat the new voter should be able to read the name \nof the man he voted for, and to sign his own name. \nWhite men are hardly competent to vote; they \nhave been struggling toward fitness for five hundred \nyears. But upon these emancipated negroes the \nballot was tumbled en masse, and without condition. \nWhen he was made a voter the average Southern \nnegro had just three ideas as to the significance of \nthe ballot. It was proof that he was free ; it was \nan expression of your regard for him ; it was chiefly \nto keep the white people of the South down. This \nwas his view. With such ideas he could have no \njust appreciation of the ballot, and little conscience \nin the use of it. As a matter of course he became, \n\n\n\n354 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nas a voter, the victim of adventurers and plaoe*hunt- \ners in all sections. \n\nTHE REAL WONDER. \n\nWhen we remember what the war was and what \nfollowed it ; when we remember that half a million \nmen, who had lost their cause, disbanded from the \nConfederate armies, returned to a desolated and \nprostrate country; when we remember the stress \nand storm and fury of that period, the true wonder \nis not that there was a period of disorder which \ngood men lamented, not that there were occasional \noutbreaks of violence which they deplored; the true \nwonder is that there was not utter and final chaos. \nAnd, as a man who lived in and through it all, X \nhere declare my opinion that the one influence that \nsaved the South from utter and remediless ruin was \nthe leaven of the Christian religion that is so widely \ndiffused throughout that region, both among the \nwhite and black people. \n\nBut whatever was wise or unwise in the fact or \nmanner of enfranchising the negro, it is now too \nlate to discuss that. The ballot he has, and the \nballot he will keep. And in this place I declare my \nopinion that the South will be the last part of this \nUnion that will wish to take the ballot from him. \nIf there were no other reasons, there are political \nconsiderations that will secure this result. \n\nHELP US. \n\nThere is but one thing that can now be done. \nWe must make the most of him. And we want \nyou of the North to help us make the most of him, \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. \n\n\n\n355 \n\n\n\nas a man and a citizen, with that thunderbolt of \npower, the ballot, in his hands. You have done \nmuch for him, but the results would have been bet- \nter if you had had better knowledge of the work \nyou had in hand. But I do not see how you could \nhave had better knowledge unless you had had ex- \nperience, or unless we of the South had cooperated \nwith you more heartily. We are not blameless in \nthis matter. I, at least, am not blameless; I might \nhave done more. But this I say in common justice: \nDuring those years of confusion and strife and mis- \nunderstanding on all sides, it was harder for us of \nthe South to do just what we wished to do \xe2\x80\x94 -just \nwhat was right \xe2\x80\x94 than you can ever understand or \nappreciate. \n\nBut times change and people change. There h \neverywhere in the South a growing interest in the \neducation of the whole people. You can do more \nnow, and we can help you as never before. We are \nbeginuing to feel that all the people mast be educated^* \nmust be. Ballots in the hands of ignorance are \npackages of dynamite, whether cast by a fair or a \ndark hand. \n\nTHE NEGEO AND RELIGION. \n\nI should do wrong not to say a few words about \nthe religious characteristics of the negroes in the \nSouth. No matter w r hat one may believe on the \nsubject of religion in general, or of their religion in \nparticular, no man who would understand them and \ntheir relations to the problem of our national life \ncan afford to overlook their religious character. \n\n\n\n356 \n\n\n\nThe Xew South \n\n\n\nTheir notions may be crude, their conceptions of \ntruth sometimes grotesque and realistic to a painful \ndegree, their religious development may show many \nimperfections \xe2\x80\x94 nevertheless, their most striking, im- \nportant, and formative characteristic is their relig- \nion. The negro\'s Church is the center not only of \nhis religious but of his social life. Their religion \nis real to them. They believe the Bible \xe2\x80\x94 every line \nand every word of it. To them God is a reality. \nSo are heaven, hell, and the judgment-day. \n\nGRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE. \nThe religion of the Southern negro, slave or free, \nwas and is a divine reality. During the late war it \nwas pure and strong enough to secure peace and \nsafety to women and children on the plantations \nwhile the men were away fighting under a flag which \ndid not promise freedom to them. For this the just \nand good hold them in everlasting and grateful \nremembrance. And we may be quite sure that \nthey understood what the war meant in its relations \nto them. \n\nThey may not have outgrown their superstitions, \nbut the school-house and the Bible will do for them \nwhat they have done for all people \xe2\x80\x94 drive out the \nevil and cruel spirits of superstition. \n\nTHE SOUTHERN WHITE PEOPLE. \n\nBut you have several million of brothers in white \nin the South. Of them I must tell you some things \nworthy of your consideration. \n\nAs we have seen, the Southern white population \nis almost exclusively of English descent and Prot- \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. 357 \n\n\n\nestant faith. Some of the characteristics of our peo- \nple I mention; none of them I have time to discuss. \n\nNO ISMS. \n\n1. Those intellectual monstrosities known as \n"isms," born of cranky brains, are almost unknown \nin the South. They are never indigenous, and they \nget no foothold there. One of our critics suggests \nthat we "have not enterprise enough to get up an \nism." I accept the criticism in view of the com- \npensation we have in deliverance from the affliction \nthat is suffered by some. Among Southern people \nspeculative infidelity is practically without an au- \ndience. Our people believe the Bible to be the word \nof God, and the number who doubt make an inap- \npreciable percentage of our population. Sinners \nwe have plenty, but they are not infidels or atheists. \nThey need preaching, repentance, and conversion. \n\nDANGEROUS CLASSES. \n\n2. The South is almost absolutely free from what \nare called " the dangerous classes." During the \nrailroad riots of 1877 that in Pittsburg burst out \nin blood and flame \xe2\x80\x94 startling and shocking the \nwhole country \xe2\x80\x94 there was hardly a strike in our \nsection, and there w T as no violence or disturbance. \n\nA home-bred "tramp" is hardly ever seen; I \nnever saw but one, and he was deaf and dumb. \nThere is no tendency among us to communism, \nnihilism, or any such deviltry. Faults we have \nplenty, but not these. \n\nAT WORK. \n\n3. The Southern people nearly all live in the \n\n\n\n358 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nrural districts, and are at work, and have been at work \nall their lives. \n\nThe second part of this statement you are dis- \nposed to doubt; it is asserted on all sides that " the \nSouth" is lazy. Lazy people we have \xe2\x80\x94 too many \nof them \xe2\x80\x94 but it is not true that our people as a class \nare lazy. \n\nA lady in Connecticut asked me one evening: \n" Did the white women of the South do any thing \nat all before the war?" I asked her: " What do \nyou suppose to have been the facts as to the owner- \nship of slaves in the South? About how many \nowned slaves?" She answered: "I suppose every \nfamily, except the utterly worthless, owned at least \none or two to wait on them." I asked, in reply: \n"Did it ever occur to you to ask, Who made the \nliving while one or two negroes waited on white \npeople who did nothing?" \n\nThere were in the South, in the old times, people \nof wealth and leisure who did no work ; just as your \naristocrats and millionaires of Boston do nothing \nthat they can hire another to do. But the majority \nof slave-holders worked. I will give you a fair av- \nerage case. My grandfather began life a poor man; \nhe first kept house in a log-cabin. He was a hard \nworker and was economical. In a few years he \nsaved enough to become the owner of two or three \nslaves. He died at fifty-six, owning fifty or sixty \nnegroes. But till he was too old, or till his super- \nintendence was worth more than his personal labor, \nhe led the foremost row in the field. ("We have \nlarge families in the South, Governor Long.) He \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. 359 \n\n\n\nbrought up five sons to the plow, and five daugh- \nters could spin and. weave under the old dispensa- \ntion. My father taught me to plow, and I have not \nforgotten the art. \n\nWHAT WE FOUGHT FOR. \nAs I have already told you, the majority of our \npeople never owned slaves at all. The majority of \nthem fought through our horrible war iiot for slav- \nery, but for their doctrine of State rights, in which \nthey had been brought up from the beginning. And \nas Mr. Lincoln, in a memorable letter to Horace \nGreeley, August 22, 1862, said: "My paramount \nobject in this struggle is to save the Union, and is \nnot either to save or to destroy slavery. If I could \nsave the Union without freeing any slave, I would \ndo it; and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves, \nI would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some \nand leaving others alone, I would also do that: " \xe2\x80\x94 So \nour people of the South would have set free every \nslave to have preserved their doctrine of State sov- \nereignty. That for which they fought so long and \nwell they surrendered at Appomatox for good and \nall; and tens of thousands of us have come to thank \nGod not only that the slaves were set free, but \nthat the Union was saved. \n\nPROOFS. \n\nBut I was about to say something of our people \nas workers. There is surely some work done in the \nSouth. We never hear of people starving, and sta- \ntistics of pauperism show fewer people " on the coun- \nty," or " on the town," than in any other civilized \n\n\n\n360 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\ncountry. No man who saw the South in 1865, and \nwho knows what she produced in 1880 and 1881, \nwill make the general charge of laziness against our \npeople. \n\nCommissioner Loring, the papers tell us, has re- \ncently repeated what so many have said, that the \nSouthern farmer sticks to his old tools \xe2\x80\x94 showing in \nso many ways how behind the age he is. Much of \nthis is true. But this does not prove that he is lazy. \nSolomon knew long before we of the North or we \nof the South began to find fault with each other that \n" if the iron be blunt, he that useth the ax must lay to \nmore strength. " A man who does not know how \nto farm, and who uses inferior tools, must work all \nthe harder if he succeeds. \n\nLet me make a witness of one of your own peo- \nple, Mr. Edward Atkinson, of Boston. I quote his \nwords (from an article in Good Company for Sep- \ntember), because he has been making an exhaustive \nstudy of the industries of the South since the war. \nMr. Atkinsoir says: \n\n" To him who either hastily or w T ith ample time \nnow studies the condition of the Southern States, \nfrom the end of the war to the present time, noth- \ning will appear more marvelbiis than the recuper- \native power of a people so lately made free from \nbondage as the people of the South; and the term \n6 made free\' is used with respect not only to all the \nblacks, but to the vast majority of the whites as \nwell." [He might have said all the whites, for slav- \nery was an incubus upon every white man, woman, \nand child in the South.] " By comparison with oth- \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. \n\n\n\n361 \n\n\n\ner countries, the war left the Southern States with \nnothing but neglected lands, upon which were scat- \ntered dwellings more or less adequate to shelter the \npeople, but with few mills or works of any kind, \nwith old tools or none, and with all the internal ma- \nchinery of commerce practically destroyed. The \nsoldiers from most of the Southern States went back \nafter the surrender to meet conditions absolutely un- \nknown before; they were obliged to begin life anew \nwithout capital, without experience to guide them, \nand in the face of conditions which, from their point \nof view, must have been absolutely appalling. How \nit has been possible even for men of intelligence, but \nwhose only training in the practical work of life had \nbeen gained in the destructive operations of war, to \nhave returned to fenceless and deserted farms and \nplantations, there to adapt themselves to a complete \nchange, not only in the system of labor, but to a \ncomplete revolution of the very ideas of the people \nin regard to labor, and in the few years that have \nsince elapsed to have compassed the great progress \nalready made$ is one of the marvels the history of \nwhich has hardly yet been observed and is yet un- \nwritten/\' \n\nSOUTHERN RECUPERATION. \n\nMr. Atkinson is right; the recuperation of the \nSouth since April, 1865, is one of the marvels. No \npeople were ever called upon to do such a work, \nand to solve such a problem under such conditions. \n\'No people ever did more to recover from such an \nutter overthrow and such an utter reversal of all \ntheir political, social, and industrial doctrines and \n\n\n\n362 \n\n\n\nThe New SotrM \n\n\n\nmethods. And their success is without a parallel in \nthe history of conquered people. \n\nOne of two things is true: either the South is the \nbest country in the world, or the Southern people \nare at work. Both propositions are true. \n\nREVOLUTIONS. - \n\n4. The Southern people are almost exclusively an \nagricultural people, and in the Cotton States much \ninclined to give their energies to their great staple. \nMost of them serve their " King Cotton " with slav- \nish loyalty; and dearly has he made them pay for \ntheir allegiance, as all despots do. \n\nBut we are upon the threshold of revolutions. I \ndo not say changes, but revolutions. We are enter- \ning upon diversified industries. The manufacturing \ninstinct manifests itself. The opinion is settling \ndown into perfect conviction and confidence that \nsome cotton-factories should be closer to cotton- \nfields than they are. Our people are going to try the \nexperiment. Within the last few years there have \nbeen large increase and much success in our manu- \nfacturing interests. \n\nFARMS VS. PLANTATIONS. \nWhat is, perhaps, more vital to our comfort and \nprosperity, our people are becoming convinced of \nthe sound policy of diversified crops. The most \nmarked and impressive change in our agricultural \nsystem is in the tendency to break up plantations into \nfarms. I give you a few figures recently sent out \nfrom the census office. Thinking people cannot \nfail to understand the prophecy in them of vast and \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. \n\n\n\n363 \n\n\n\nmany changes in Southern life, and better things for \nus all. I take, for illustration, five States \xe2\x80\x94 Ala- \nbama, Arkansas, Florida^ Georgia, and South Car- \nolina. The table shows the number of proprietors at \ndifferent periods. You will observe that the in- \ncrease between 1860 and 1870 was about the same \nas between 1850 and 1860: \n\n\n\nStates. 1880. 1870, 18*30. 1850. \n\nAlabama 135,864 67,382 55,128 41,964 \n\nArkansas 94,433 49,424 39,004 17,758 \n\nFlorida 23,438 10,241 6,568 4,304 \n\nGeorgia 138,626 69,956 62,003 51,759 \n\nSouth Carolina 93,864 51,889 33,171 29,967 \n\n\n\nThese figures tell the story of a revolution that \nmust affect every industrial and social interest in \nthe South, and, as I believe, for the almost incon- \nceivable bettering of our condition. Figures cannot \nmeasure the results of these changes; they cannot \nbe compressed into any statistical columns whatso- \never. With small farms come ten thousand bless- \nings \xe2\x80\x94 industrial, social, educational, and political \xe2\x80\x94 \ndenied to the majority under the old plantation sys- \ntem, and that grow directly out of the ownership \nof the soil. For one thing: they make the common \n\nSCHOOL A CERTAINTY AND A NECESSITY. \n\nThe number of proprietors has nearly doubled in \nthe last ten years. The probabilit}* is that it will \ndouble again in the next ten. \n\nSMALL ECONOMIES. \n\nThe multiplication of small farms, the increasing \nrailroad facilities that Northern money for the most \npart is bringing to us, the development of manu- \n\n\n\n364 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nfacturing interests, and the common school that is \ngrowing and strengthening itself in the confidence \nand love of the people from year to year, and, above \nall, free labor, will bring into the social and busi- \nness habits of the Southern people that which, as a \nclass, we have sorely needed and conspicuously \nlacked; that which largely, if not chiefly, accounts \nfor the prosperity of New England; that which \nexplains the marvelous financial recuperation of \nFrance after a most fearful war \xe2\x80\x94 I mean the habit \nof small economies. \n\nMany causes combined to develop wasteful and \nuneconomical habits among our people. It grew \npartly out of the fact that in a" fertile and thinly set- \ntled country, where land was cheap, where work can \nbe done in the open field nearly every w T eek in the \nyear, it was easy to produce more than was needed \nfor consumption. The general lack of transporta- \ntion facilities made the surplus of small money value \nin the local markets; but beyond question our sys- \ntem of labor itself fostered waste by all our people. \n\nBut economy we are learning. Free labor, trans- \nportation facilities, ready markets, small farms\xe2\x80\x94 all \nthese things are helping ns. \n\nTHE NEED OF SAVINGS-BANKS. \n\nAll over the South we need what we have never \nhacl, outside of a few of our larger cities (and they \nhave been so managed as to amount to but little \nthere) \xe2\x80\x94 we need savings-banks, and the habits of \neconomy and the practice of small savings which \nthey foster and encourage. The savings-bank, \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. \n\n\n\n365 \n\n\n\nrightly managed and well patronized, would almost \nwork miracles among us. It is needed for whites \nand blacks; some place, some way, for saving the \nsmall margins between production and consumption. \n\nIf the savings-bank becomes an institution in the \nSouth, it must first win confidence. The disasters \nthat followed the collapse of the Freedman\'s Sav- \nings-bank was an immeasurable calamity to the ne- \ngroes of the South. What we want (and, as it ap- \npears to me, there is nothing we need more in our \nbusiness life) is a savings-bank system that can be \navailable in our small towns and villages. A sav- \nings-bank in Atlanta or Savannah might as well be \nin Boston so far as the majority of the people of \nGeorgia are concerned. "Why cannot our " pater- \nnal government\'\' devise some plan, something like \nthe English system, recommended, I believe, by Mr. \nPostmaster-general James \xe2\x80\x94 a post-office savings-bank \nsy \'stem, available by all our people, so that they can \ndeposit, where they will be safe, their small savings? \nThe people want a system in which they will have \nthe same confidence the} 7 have in the national cur- \nrency ; the bank may break, but the bill is good. If \nsome statesman rises up with enough practical sense \nto manage this matter, the next generation will \nbuild him a monument as noble as that which the \npeople of England have built in honor of the father \nof cheap postage. \n\nTHE COTTON EXPOSITION, \n\nnow progressing in Atlanta, symbolizes, in a most \ninstructive way, to people who see and think, the \n\n\n\n366 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nvast changes that are coming into the industrial and \nsocial system of the South. A Boston Yankee, Mr. \nEdward Atkinson, suggested it; another Yankee, \nwhom we have adopted and made our own, Mr. H. \nI. Kimball, pushed it through. Many thanks to \nthese gentlemen, and all who helped them. The \nSouthern people have gone into it most enthusiast- \nically, and the more hopeful believe that this Expo- \nsition of the resources of the country opens fairly \nthe new era that is to make the South truly prosper- \nous, and that is to bless the whole country. \n\nIt is impressive and inspiring to look upon the \nmultitudes that throng the Exposition buildings and \ngrounds. They are there from all sections of our \ngreat Union \xe2\x80\x94 the men of the North and the men \nof the South mingling happily together \xe2\x80\x94 talking \ncotton and all manner of business \xe2\x80\x94 asking nothing \nof each other\'s politics. \n\nCOTTON-FACTORY VS. PRESIDENT, \n\nThe fact is, the Southern people are marvelously \nstirred up about their business interests at this time. \nAn old Democrat at the Exposition, some days ago, \nsaid with some emphasis of language: "I would \nrather see another big cotton -factory in Atlanta \nthan to elect a Democratic President of the United \nStates." That was putting the case strongly. There \nmay be a stray Democrat in Tremont Temple to- \nday. It may occur to him that the Atlanta man \xe2\x80\x94 \nas Bishop Foster\'s people would say \xe2\x80\x94 has "back- \nslidden." But let me suggest to the Democrats of \nNew England, before they condemn him too severely: \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. \n\n\n\n867 \n\n\n\nWe Democrats down South have been trying rather \ndiligently for about sixteen years to secure a Dem- \nocratic President, and we have had poor success. \nWhenever the Democrats of the North get ready to elect \none of that faith and order, let them proceed, and we will \nhelp them. \n\nPYRAMID ON THE WRONG END. \n\nIn the matter of education we of the South have \nmuch to learn and much to do. We are behind in \nthese interests, It was inevitable with our past his- \ntory. Our better people feel it keenly, and are do- \ning their utmost to mend matters. \n\nIt is not just to say that we have lacked interest \nin education. Before the war the South had more sons \nand daughters in college than the North had. Our \nmistake was, we tried to stand the pyramid on its apex; \nwe neglected the common school. \n\nOur common schools are not efficient, but they \nare improving. For the most part our system is \ngood, but we lack money. Our States are not able \nto spend as much as the richer States of the North \nand West. But we are able to do better than we \ndo, and we are going to do it, for the people are de- \nmanding it. It will not be long till an elementary \nEnglish education is made available to all the chil- \ndren of the South \xe2\x80\x94 white and black alike. \n\nCOLLEGES IN THE SOUTH. \n\nI have been asked about our colleges. They are \nbetter than you suppose. Many of them have com- \npetent faculties, and do thorough and honest work. \nWith few exceptions our colleges lack endowments \n\n\n\n368 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nand the resources they bring. Few of them are \nequipped with libraries, apparatus, museums, as \nthey should be. You ask why? I answer: L Much \nof the South is a new and thinly settled country. \n2. In the older parts of the South, where in former \ntimes there was money, the idea of endowing col- \nleges had small place in the minds of those who \nhad it. 3. Since 1865 our people have not had the \nmoney to do it. \n\nThe South is looking up, the people are getting \non their feet again; but there is little money in the \nSouth in masses. The great endowments which \nhave made your colleges and universities strong and \nfamous did not come out of the pockets of the poor, \nor even from small and well-to-do farmers. Was a \ngreat endowment ever raised by the small contribu- \ntions of the thousands? No; they come by the \nthousands of the few. For the college men and \nwomen of the South I will say, They deserve honor \nfor their heroic efforts to do their work in spite of \ntheir poverty \n\nLIVING ON EIGHT DOLLARS A MONTH \n\nMy position as President of one of the oldest \nSouthern colleges brings me into 2onstant com- \nmunication with young men in all parts of the \nSouth. \n\nNothing is plainer than that there is a constantly \nwidening and deepening feeling of intense desire \namong our young men for higher education. There \nare more than sixty in Emory College working their way \nand living on eight dollars a month. (There will be \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. 369 \n\n\n\nnearly one hundred in the coming term.) [Decem- \nber, 1882, more than one hundred.\'] Our young women \nshare this feeling of noble aspiration. You will un- \nderstand what it signifies when I tell you there were \nnever so many young men in college from the farms as now. \nThere is brain and backbone in them. They will \nwin and be heard from in the golden day that is \nbeginning to dawn upon us. Some day they will \nhelp you make this country what it ought to be. \n\nTHE SOUTH AND POLITICS. \n\nI wish to say a word about the South and poli- \ntics. I know not what the professionals will think \nof what I say. Jfor am I overconcerned about it, \nas I have no favors to ask, nor have my kinsfolk. \nI doubt, indeed, if they understand me. In their \nlines there are no shrewder men. But their lines \nare narrow \xe2\x80\x94 they are party lines. When a man is \nlooking straight at an office, there is not much else \nthat he can see. The " signs of the times" hung \nout in the higher skies are invisible to him; he \ncould not see the sign of Constantine itself. \n\nI claim no prophetic insight, but a man who is \nnot a candidate for any thing may see and hear \nsome things hidden from him whose soul is hun- \ngering and thirsting for office. And I venture \nto say: \n\nThe great body of the Southern people are grown veiy \nweary of geographical and sentimental politics. \n\nThe political leaders they are looking for, and \nthat they are ready to follow, are the men who can \ndo something that has sense and substance in it; \n24 \n\n\n\n370 \n\n\n\nThe New South \n\n\n\nwho can so attend to the business of the country \nas to give it the fairest chance and the best devel- \nopment. They are weary of declamations; they \nare tired to death of controversy; they want peace, \nthe development of their industries, and the build- \ning up of their civilization. And it will go hard \nwith them, or they will have .what they want. \nMoreover, it will go hard with party leaders and \nbosses who seek to hinder them. Hinderauces that \nthey cannot overcome they are going to throw off; \nbonds they cannot untie they are going to break. \n\nWHY WE PRAYED FOR PRESIDENT GARFIELD. \n\nThanking you for your generous attention, I wish \nto tell you now the secret of the deeply sincere and \nuniversal interest of the Southern people in Presi- \ndent Garfield. They recognized his true greatness, \nand respected him ; they saw in him a certain lofti- \nness of chivalric sentiment, and were drawn to him; \nthey looked on his sufferings, and sympathized with \nhim; they beheld his fortitude, and admired him; \nthey believed in his religion, and trusted him. But \nthe real secret of their interest in him was this: \nAfter the smoke and fury of the canvass had cleared, \nand they saw him in the bright sunlight, they rec- \nognized in him a splendid embodiment of the true \nAmerican idea of this country. They believed that \nhe intended to give the country a true national ad- \nministration, from which they were not expecting favors, \nonly justice and a fair chance. While he yet lingered \nin suffering, millions of prayers were offered by our \npeople \xe2\x80\x94 in the great congregations and in humble \n\n\n\nFrom a Southern Stand-point. 371 \n\n\n\nprayer-meetings; in the houses of the rich and in \nthe lowly cabins of the poor. They trembled on \nthe lips of the eloquent, and they were offered in \nthe supplications of the untutored negro. And these \nprayers of men \xe2\x80\x94 of races and, nations \xe2\x80\x94 were answered. \nFor the hearts of the people were brought nearer \ntogether than they had been for fifty years. As it \nseems to me, James A. Garfield did, in the provi- \ndence of God, more to heal the bleeding wounds of \nhis country than all others had done since the ac- \ncursed war began. \n\nIt icas worth dying for to have done such a work. \n\nAnd now, if you men of the North and we men of the \nSouth allow party bosses of any party or section to undo \nit all, we will deserve the wrath of God and the indig- \nnation of men. \n\nTHE MEN OF WAR AT PEACE. \n\nThere was a scene in Chattanooga, Tennessee, last \nSeptember, that symbolized truly the spirit that \nanimates the hearts of nearly all of the old Confed- \nerate soldiers and inspires the hearts of the young \nmen of the New South. (Our implacables are those \nwho helped to bring on the war and then criticised \nits generals from the bomb-proofs of their exemp- \ntion.) The survivors of the Confederate Army of \nthe Tennessee held a reunion, to which they invited \nthe survivors of the Union Army of the Tennessee. \nMany of the bravest veterans \xe2\x80\x94 officers and men \xe2\x80\x94 \nof these two great armies met together. Missionary \nEiclge looked down upon them; Chattanooga was \nclose by; each registered a defeat and a victory. \n\n\n\n372 \n\n\n\nThe New South. \n\n\n\nThese veterans \xe2\x80\x94 the wearers of the blue and the \ngray \xe2\x80\x94 joined their hands in raising our country\'s \nstarry flag over the scenes of their festivity. "With \nequal devotion would they die under that flag in \ndefending its honor or in protecting and preserving \nthe perpetual union of these States. \n\n\n\nTHE NEGRO A CITIZEN. \n\n[A SPEECH.-] \n\n\n\nMR. PRESIDENT, I never saw the day since \nChrist converted me that my heart did not \nwarm toward any good cause that in its plans and \nefforts took in the whole human race. The Ameri- \ncan Missionary Association represents such a cause, \nand I am grateful for the privilege of taking some \nsmall part in this anniversary meeting. And I am \nthe more glad because this meeting is held in the \ncity where Garfield, our President, awaits the resur- \nrection of the just. \n\nPresident Hayes did a good work for the South, \nfor which history will give him due credit. It was \nthis: He let the South alone, that the storm-rocked \nsea might calm itself. And President Grarfield, liv- \ning, dying, and dead, awoke within the hearts of \nthe Southern people the throbs of a profounder na- \ntional sentiment than they had felt in twenty years. \n\nIt is becoming that I should speak this evening \nof that part of your work which I understand best, \nyour work in the Southern States; and of that part \nof it which I know best, your work among the ne- \ngroes. Any work of importance, as to its extent, \n\n* Delivered before the American Missionary Association, in \nCleveland, Ohio, October 26, 1882. \n\n(373) \n\n\n\n374 The Negro a Citizen, \n\n\n\nmethods, or designs, done among the negroes must \narouse interest in all thinking minds. For the ne- \ngro has been in America two hundred and sixty \nyears; there are not far from seven million of them \nin the United States to-day, and nearly all of them \nare in the Southern States. At the close of our war \nfor independence there were in the United States \nabout seven hundred thousand negroes. Within a \ncentury they have multiplied ten times. How many \nwill they be by 1982? To speak in round numbers, \nthe increase of the total population of this country \nfrom 1870 to 1880\xe2\x80\x94 as the last census shows \xe2\x80\x94 was \nthirty per cent. The increase of the white popula- \ntion, aided largely as it was by immigration, was \ntwenty-eight per cent.; the increase in the negro \npopulation, unaided by immigration, was thirty-four \nper cent. It is only very foolish people who can be \nindifferent to such facts; thoughtful people will con- \nsider of them. \n\nVisionaries and " cranks " may dream and declaim \nabout solving the problem of their future and ours, \nby getting them somehow out of this country. But \nif it were desirable or practicable to transport them, \nthey are born faster than whole navies could move \nthem. And it is as undesirable as it is impractica- \nble. They are here to stay, and, so far as men can \nsee, for the most part where they now are \xe2\x80\x94 in the \nSouthern States of this Union. They are now \nnearly one-seventh of our population, and, by the \nprovidence of God, they are freemen and voters. \n\nThe time has about passed, Mr. President, for the \nNorth to please itself with eloquent speech concern- \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\n375 \n\n\n\ning their emancipation, and for the South to fret \nitself with fervent denunciation concerning their \nenfranchisement. It were wiser and more profita- \nble for the people of both sections to accept the \nfacts of a most difficult question, to discuss the is- \nsues of 1882, and, in a business-like way, to do our \nbest to make the most of them. As to the now \ndominant sentiment in the South, nobody who has \ngood sense wants them back in slavery, and the \nSouth, you may depend upon it, will never consent \nfor the ballot to be taken from them. Everybody \nknows that when they received the ballot en masse \nthey were utterly unprepared for it. As a class, \nthey had just three ideas concerning the ballot when \nit was given to them: 1. They looked upon it as \nthe symbol of their freedom; this, perhaps, did them \nsome good. 2. They received it as a special mark \nof the love borne to them by the people of the \nNorth; this made them vain of it, and alienated \nthem from their white neighbors. 3. Their pre- \ndominant notion was that it was given them to \nkeep "the old rebels down;" this spoiled them for \nfair-minded politics. \n\nYou will pardon a single illustration of the new \nvoter\'s capacity for enlightened politics. For nearly \neight years I have had in my employment a veiy \nworthy colored man, Daniel Martin by name. He \nis about my own age; I trust him fully in all mat- \nters for which he has capacity; we are much at- \ntached to each other; and, the truth is, we have \nbeen taking care of each other for a good while. \nHe is above the average of his class in character \n\n\n\n376 \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\nand common sense. He can read " coarse print/\' \nand can sign his name imperfectly. \n\nYou will miss the point of my illustration unless \nyou bear in mind that Martin had steadily voted \nthe Republican ticket from the beginning of his \ncitizenship to the date of my story. And he so \nvotes till this day. \n\nThe day before the Hayes and Tilden election, \nDaniel was plowing in a little field near my house. \nOne of the students quizzed him about his views \nand intentions: "How are you. going to vote to- \nmorrow, Uncle Daniel?" It is a peculiarity of the \nSouthern negro that he never delivers a solemn \njudgment on any subject without coming to a full \nhalt in whatever engages him. One consequence is, \nhe comes to a great many halts in his work. An- \nother peculiarity of at least the Southern negro is \nthat he thinks in metaphor and speaks in parables. \nSo Daniel, stopping his horse and sticking his plow \ndeeper into the ground, delivered himself as fol- \nlows: \n\n" Now, Mr. Longstreet, you see I is plowin\' dis \nfurrow. If I only plow dis furrow I makes dis fur- \nrow too deep, an 5 I do n\'t plow de balance ob de \npatch." \n\nMr. Longstreet admitted the force of this state- \nment. Daniel continued, in answer to the young \nman\'s questions: \n\n" I think things is bin gwine on in one way long \nenough; I think dere ought to be a change, whar- \nfore I is gwine to vote for Mr. Hayes to-morrow \xe2\x80\x94 \ngit up, Bill." \n\n\n\nT^HE NeGRG A OlTI55ENi \n\n\n\n377 \n\n\n\nNext day he and I went to our cdunty-town; he \nvoted for Hayes, that there might be a change ; I \nvoted for Tilden, that there might be a change ; he \nkilled my vote, or possibly one of yours, and we \nwere " equal before the laW." \n\nBut few of them are now prepared to vote intelli- \ngently; and ballots, whether cast by fair or dark \nhands, deposited by ignorance, are dangerous to free \ninstitutions. Are not you of the North nearly as \nmuch concerned in the quality of the negro\'s ballot \nas we of the South are? TDill recently they voted \n"solid" for the Republican ticket. A few weeks \nago, in Georgia, the majority of them voted for an \nex-Confederate brigadier-general, who fought brave- \nly at the first Manassas, and who fan for Governor as \nan Independent Democrat, receiving, however, the \nwhole Republican vote; and thousands of them \nvoted for the nominee of the Democratic party, the \nex-Vice-president of the Confederacy. No white \nman running for office in the South refuses their \nvotes, and, so far as I know, their votes ai?e always \nsought when there is any chance to get them. I \nam not sure but that his ignorance makes his ballot \nmore dangerous when both parties seek his vote \nthan when it was given solid to one. \n\nIn your work in the South, Mr. President, I re- \njoice for many reasons. The reason I now mention \nis this: That work is helping to prepare the negro \nfor his duties of a citizen. I can well understand \nhow the best and wisest people of the North feel \nmost deeply and solemnly the obligation to do this \nwork, for they gave him the ballot, and history will \n\n\n\n378 The Negro a Citizen \n\n\n\nnot justify that gift unless they do what they can \nto prepare him for its intelligent use. Not now, \nnor during the next generation, can the South do \nthis work alone. Unless you continue to help, and \nto help mightily, it cannot be done. \n\nAs to primary education, many in the South\xe2\x80\x94 and \nI, for one, agree with them--believe, with our Sen- \nator Brown, of Georgia, that the national govern- \nment should come to the rescue, and help the States \nin this work, distributing its aids on the basis of \nilliteracy. This would give the South a large share \nof 64 appropriations" "under the old flag." What \nif it does? The South is a part of the North, and \nthe North is a part of the South, if this is a Union \nand a Nation. Slowly but surely, as it seems to me, \nwe are beginning to understand our relations to \neach other. Some day we will, it is to be hoped, \nunderstand one another so well, and agree so amica- \nbly, that the phrases " the North" and " the South " \nshall have only geographical meanings. President \nArthur\xe2\x80\x94 *many thanks to him for this! \xe2\x80\x94 made no \nallusion to "the South" in his first message to Con- \ngress. \n\nIf the General Government gives this needed help, \nit will be in the interests of the whole country, al- \nthough the Southern States may get, for once, the \nlion\'s share. For we are a very large part of this \ncountry; we are in the Union, and intend to stay \nthere \xe2\x80\x94 if we have to whip somebody in order to \ndo it. \n\nBut, in the nature of things, this sort of help must \nbe temporary, and, as I suppose, should, like the \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\n379 \n\n\n\neducational work of the State governments, be car- \nried on, for the most part, in the common schools. \n\nThe thing that must be done, if our work is to \nstand, is to train up among the negroes, as well as \namong the whites, men and women who can teach \nthe children of their race \xe2\x80\x94 teach them in homes, in \nschool-houses, and in churches. This cannot be \ndone by the State as it should be done. For if, as \none has said, the " negroes need educated Christian- \nity," they need Christianized education in order to \nget it. This the State does not and cannot give. \nTo achieve this most desirable and necessary result, \nthe school-house and the church must work togeth- \ner. There must be Bibles in the schools that are to \ntrain teachers among this people, and there must be \nChristian men and women in them who both teach \nand practice religion. \n\nTo train such teachers, as it appears to me, is the \nwork you, and others like you, are trying to do. \n\nYou are raising up in those schools men and \nwomen who, in the years to come, can, will, and \nmust teach the children of these people. Hundreds \nof them, trained by you, are doing this now. I say \nmust, for Christianized education must, by its in- \nstinctive and divine impulses, perpetuate itself and \ndiffuse itself. Christian education, whether in Chris- \ntian or heathen lands, is the most aggressive and \nformative influence that is now shaping the destiny \nof the human race. When you send out from Nash- \nville, from Atlanta, and from New Orleans, young \nmen and young women who are both educated and \nreligious, you send into the masses of these untaught \n\n\n\n380 \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen, \n\n\n\nmillions those who must teach them what they have \nlearned both from books and from Christ. Again \nI say must, for the spirit that is in an educated \nChristian man or woman is, as the old Methodist \npreachers used to say, "a fire in the bones," and it \nwill blaze out. \n\nThe author of the Declaration of Independence \nwrote, it is said, in 1782, this prediction: "Nothing \nis more certainly written in the book of fate than \nthat these people are to be free; nor is it less certain \nthat the two races, equally free, cannot live in the \nsame government." \n\nIt does not surprise me that Mr. Jefferson made \nboth of these predictions. As to the first, there was \nat that time in Virginia and other Southern States \na strong party that favored the emancipation of the \nslaves. As to the second prediction, he had studied \nFrench philosophy more than he had studied Chris- \ntianity. If this country had been pagan Rome or \ninfidel France, the first prediction would have failed \n\xe2\x80\x94 they never would have been set free by the will \nof men. Had they been set free, the second predic- \ntion would have been fulfilled, for in a pagan or in- \nfidel country the two races could not be " equally \nfree and live in the same government." They would \nnot have been set free had this not have been a \nChristian country; as it is a Christian country, the \ntwo races, " equally free" before the law, can "live \nin the same government," and the problem of their \nfree citizenship can be solved. \n\nBut this problem cannot be solved by legislation \nalone. Time has proved the truth of the weighty \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\n381 \n\n\n\nwords delivered at your anniversary in 1875, by that \nvenerable and great man who was taken to heaven \nlast winter \xe2\x80\x94 the Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon. At that \ntime Dr. Bacon wrote these words: \n\n"I come to this conclusion: Legislation on the \npart of the national government is no longer to be \ninvoked in aid of fundamental reconstruction. At- \ntempts by Congress to employ force for the aboli- \ntion of prejudices and antipathies in social inter- \ncourse do not help the cause in which the American \nMissionary Association is at work. I use the word \n6 force,\' because law enforced is force, and a law \nnot enforced is not law. The more completely our \ncause can be henceforth disentangled from all con- \nnection with political parties and agitators the bet- \nter for its progress. Doubtless there will be more \nlegislation by the several States \xe2\x80\x94 especially in be- \nhalf of the great interest of public education for all \n\xe2\x80\x94 before the consummation that we hope for shall \nhave been attained; but the legislation must be the \neffect and not the cause of that fundamental recon- \nstruction which we desire to work for. It will ex- \nhibit and record more than it can inspire or control \nthe progress of reformed opinions and better senti- \nments among the people." \n\nWhen the law gives equal opportunities and \nguarantees equal rights to all (and this it must do \nto be worthy of respect), it has done all it can do. \nFoundation-work, of the sort Dr. Bacon had at \nheart, means character-building, and this goes on in \nindividuals. Law has its educative force; but to \nlift up a race \xe2\x80\x94 whether white, or black, or yellow, \n\n\n\n382 \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\nor red \xe2\x80\x94 there must be character-building in individ- \nual men and women, and to do this work aright we \nmust have the church and the school-house. And \nthese two must work together, and not against each \nother. \n\nThis sort of foundation-work you are trying to \ndo through the American Missionary Association, \nand others like-minded with you are trying to do. \nIt has not failed; it cannot fail; it has life in itself. \n\nMr. Jefferson\'s second prediction will fail \xe2\x80\x94 it is \nfailing now. These two races are equally free, and \nthey are living together in the same government \nwith less and less of difficulty and misunderstand- \ning each year. Disturbances here and there, con- \nflicts, acts of violence, there have been, there are, \nand there will be for a time. The wonder is not \nthat there was a period of disorder in the Southern \nStates after the war. The true wonder is that there \nis now so little of it, and that between 1865 and \n1870 the South did not rush into final and utter \nchaos. \n\nThere was never in any country such a state of \nthings \xe2\x80\x94 so provocative of universal and remediless \nanarchy. What is it that saved us? Not the troops, \nnot acts of Congress. Christian schools and the \nChurch of God saved us. It was the Protestant \nreligion that dominated the majority both of the \nnegroes and of the Southern white people. I \ngrant you that the conservative influences that the \nChurches in the South brought out of the war have \nbeen greatly aided by the work done by your society \nand others like it, but it is also true that but for the \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. 383 \n\n\n\nwork the Church in the South did before your com- \ning, you could have done next to nothing by this \ntime in the experiment. \n\nAs to this whole subject, full of difficulties as \nthose know best who have personal relations to it, \nthere is just one platform on which Christian peo- \nple can stand. Our problem with these millions of \nnegroes in our midst can be happily solved, not by \nforce of any sort from without the States where \nthey live ; no more can it be solved by repression \nwithin those States. It can be worked out only on the \nbasis of the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the \nMount. \n\nOn this platform we can work out any problem \nwhatsoever, whether personal, social, political, na- \ntional, or ethnical, that Providence brings before us. \n\nOn any lower or narrower platform we will fail, \nand always fail. \n\nWe have learned, you of the North and we of the \nSouth, many things in the last ten years. Among \nother valuable discoveries, we have learned that the \npeople of neither section are either all good or all \nbad. As to this race question, we people of the \nSouth have learned, and are learning, that we can- \nnot manage our problem by any mere repressive sys- \ntem. The people of the North have learned, and \nthey are learning, that it cannot be solved by any \nsort of force from without \xe2\x80\x94 whether force of law, \nforce of troops, or force of denunciation. Such \nknowledge is precious. Alas that it cost us so \nmuch ! \n\nMay I quote at this place one other paragraph \n\n\n\n384 The Negro a Citizen, \n\n\n\nfrom the words of Dr. Leonard Bacon? It is at the \nclose of a letter dated " New Haven, October 22, \n1875," and is in these words; \n\n" May I be allowed to say one word concerning \nthe future of this society? That word is concilia- \ntion \xe2\x80\x94 conciliation by meekness, by love, by patient \ncontinuance in well-doing. The field is wide open \nfor schools and for the preaching of the gospel, two \ngreat forces operating as one for fundamental recon- \nstruction. In both these lines of effort the work of \nthe society must be more and more a work of con- \nciliation \xe2\x80\x94 conciliation of the South to the North \nand to the restored and beneficent Union\xe2\x80\x94 concili- \nation of races to each other, white to black and \nblack to white \xe2\x80\x94 conciliation of contending sects, \noppressed with traditional bigotries, to the simplic- \nity of the truth as it is in Jesus." \n\nThomas Jefferson was not a prophet; Leonard \nBacon was. And thank God so much has been \ndone by this association to incarnate the truth that \nwas in his great thoughts, and to fulfill his hopes \nand predictions as to its own future. \n\n"But this work of \' fundamental reconstruction\' \nis a slow process," suggests the impatient one. That \nis true; character-building, whether in a man, or in \na nation, or in a race, is always a slow process. And \nit must be slower in a nation, or in a race, than in \na man. There was never anj r great work done in \nthe uplifting or training of a race in a day, or in a \nyear. It takes generations. How slowly our own \nrace has risen out of savagery! how unfit we still \nare to fulfill our mission to the world! We have \n\n\n\nThe j^egro a Citizen. \n\n\n\n385 \n\n\n\nsmall cause for boasting when white men\'s votes \n\xe2\x80\x94 sometimes enough of them to turn the scale in \ngreat elections \xe2\x80\x94 can be bought cheap in the open \nstreets. \n\nLifting up a nation or a race is a slow process; \nwherefore the greater necessity for zeal, for wisdom, \nand for patience in our work. Wherever a great \nand necessary work that requires a long time and \nmuch labor is to be done, we should begin at once \nand do our best. \n\nYou find more sympathy and more of the spirit \nof cooperation among Southern people than you \nfound ten years ago. I rejoice in this change of \nfeeling in the South, and it is easy to understand it. \nTime, the healer, has done his blessed work. Grace \nhas overcome and the grave has buried much of \nbitter feeling on both sides. You have learned your \nwork better, and we have learned more perfectly its \nvalue. \n\nA good deal of your work I have seen. I be- \nlieve it is good. I have looked into your school \nmethods; they are yielding happy results. I have \nconsidered " examination papers " from some of \nyour schools ; they would have done credit to any \nschool for any race. I have listened to speeches and \nessays from colored youths at your commencements; \nthere was the evidence of sound culture and true re- \nligion in them. When I heard them, "I thanked \nGod and took courage." \n\nIt is often asked, " Why does not the South do \nmore in this work of educating and uplifting the \nnegroes? " Sometimes the question has been asked \n25 \n\n\n\n386 \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\nangrily, perhaps because ignorantly. I believe the \nSouth can do more than it is doing \xe2\x80\x94 certainly more \nthan it has done. But I think it likely that we have \ndone as much as any other people in like circum- \nstances would have done. History does not record \nof any people such vast, rapid, and radical changes \nof opinion and sentiment on subjects that had been \nfiercely fought over on hundreds of bloody fields as \nhave taken place in the South during the last fifteen \nyears, on the questions that grew out of the negro\'s \nemancipation and enfranchisement. \n\nBut the Southern States have done more than \nmost people suppose. Nearly one million of negro \nchildren attend the public schools of the South. \n\nIn considering what the South has done and has \nnot done in the work of educating the negroes, let \nit be remembered that the white people of the South \nhave not been on beds of roses since 1865. The war \nand its consequents made the South poor beyond \nconception by those who have not had our experi- \nence. It left the North rich. The majority of our \npeople have had a sharp struggle to live; most of \nthem have been unable to educate their own chil- \ndren. \n\nLet me tell you of a man I talked with last sum- \nmer. I went with my family and a little party on \nwhat we might call a camp-fishing expedition. As \nwe approached the place where we proposed to \nspend a few days in recreation, my attention was ar- \nrested by a white woman pulling fodder in a little \nfield near a cabin. That night her husband came \nto our camp, offering such welcome as he could. We \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\n387 \n\n\n\nhad a long talk together. He had been a Confed- \nerate soldier, and he had on his body the marks of \nseven bullet-wounds. He never owned a slave; he \nhad fought for what he had been taught to believe \nw^ere the rights of the States. He is a laborer on \nthe farm of the man who owns the land where he \nlives. He gets one hundred and forty dollars a year, \ncabin rent, a few acres tended by his wife and little \ngirls, and the privilege of his winter wood. He \nsaid his employer is one of the kindest of men, and \ndoes for him all he can do. The landlord himself \nhas small margins of profit. The poor fellow has \nfive children, the eldest a bright girl aged fourteen; \nshe looked dwarfed and older than her years; she \nhad been nurse and drudge for the little ones. These \nchildren came to our camp by invitation, and the \noldest promised to come one afternoon and show \nBay children how to fish; she knows the river and \nthe ways of the fish. I had my heart set on her \ncoming; I wanted my children to know more about \nsuch people. She did not come at the time ap- \npointed, but that night she came to tell us why. \nHer cotton dress was wet with the dew, and her lit- \ntle hands were fodder-stained. She said to me: "I \nam sorry I could not come ; mother and I had \nso much fodder to take up that we have just got \nthrough. 57 \n\nThis child and I had much talk together. I asked \nher: "Daughter, can you read?" \n\nHer face brightened as she answered, "Yes, sir; \na little." \n\n" Can you write?" \n\n\n\n388 \n\n\n\nThe Xegro a Citizen. \n\n\n\nThe brown eyes sought the ground as she an- \nswered, "Uo, sir." \n\n"If I will send you some books, will you try to \nteach your little sisters to read?" \n\nThe glad look in her eyes I will never forget as \nshe answered me, " Yes, sir; I will try." \n\n"We sent her a good supply, and it made them all \nglad. They are not beggars; the father would not \ntake money for a tine bunch of lish he sent with his \ncompliments to my wife ; and when he found that \nwe had left some money for some little services by \nthe children, he flushed and could hardly be per- \nsuaded to let them keep it. \n\nSome people call these "white trash ! ? \' I declare \nto you I never heard a Southern white man or \nwoman use the expression in speaking of such per- \nsons. \n\nMr. President, there are tens of thousands of \nwhite people in the South as poor as my friend of \nthe fishings-camp. If you can help them, in Christ\'s \nname do it. \n\nAs to our higher schools, some of our best col- \nleges have died since 1865; others are dying. Such \na death is a loss, not to the South alone; it is a loss \nto the country. Yours have grown rich. I do not \nenvy you; I rejoice in your strong and well-fur- \nnished institutions. But you should be patient to- \nward us, and I am not ashamed to say, you should \nhelp us as God gives you opportunity. \n\nMen and brethren, it is time to have done with \n1860-65. The majority of our voters were in their \ncradles in 1860. or have been born since then. Said \n\n\n\nThe ^egro a Citizen. \n\n\n\n389 \n\n\n\na Brooklyn man to me last year, who, unsolicited, \nhad helped two Southern schools: "I think my \nfriends here approve what I have done, but if any \nshould ask, 4 Why did you not give this money to \nyour own people?\' my answer is, They also are my \npeople; we are one people." On that platform we \ncan become a Christian nation strong enough to bless \nthe world. \n\nNorthern money has done much to "develop the \nSouth " during the last decade, in pushing railroads \nand other great industrial enterprises. It is all \nwelcome, and ten times as much. But I clo not \nquestion that each hundred dollars invested in \nChristian education in the South since the war \nhas done more to develop it in every best sense \nthan each thousand dollars placed in railroads and \nfactories. \n\nBut enough on these lines of thought. I must \nsay a word or two as to the relations of your work \nto Africa. The first school-atlas I ever saw made a \ndesert of sand cover all the wonderful lands that \nLivingstone, Stanley, and others have discovered, \nand across the map of Africa was printed 28,000,000, \nwith an interrogation-point to indicate a guess as to \nthe population. Xow we are studying the maps of \ninterior Africa, and they tell us of great nations, \nand a population that may reach two hundred \nmillion. \n\nCan any man, who believes in the Bible, or in \nGod, doubt for one moment that Providence is in \nthe history of the negroes in the United States? \nCan we doubt that these millions of negroes now \n\n\n\n390 \n\n\n\nThe Negro a Citizen. \n\n\n\ncommitted to us, as the wards of the Christian \nChurch, must, some day, attempt and accomplish \nthe evangelization of Africa? \n\nI rejoice that your association has its eye and \nheart on Africa. I saw two photographs in the chapel \nof Fisk University last May that stirred my soul. \nThey were the faces of two missionaries who had gone \nfrom that great Christian school to the Dark Conti- \nnent. One Sunday evening I preached in the chap- \nel. A youth from your Mendi Mission, a native of \nAfrica, getting ready in Fisk to be a missionary, \nsung for us, in his home language, a familiar Sun- \nday-school song, "I have a Father in the Promised \nLand." Some day they will be singing Christian \nsongs in every village in Africa. How the thought \nof the Divine fatherhood and of the brotherhood of \nthe Eternal Son has changed Europe and made \nAmerica! Some day these thoughts will change \nAfrica too. What we call civilization cannot do it; \nthe gospel can. \n\nThe Christian negroes are getting ready for their \nwork, and you and others working in the same field \nare helping them to get ready. The missionary fire \nis beginning to burn in their hearts. When they \ngo forth, bearing the sacred symbol of our Lord\'s \nlove to men, every Christian man and woman in our \nland should help them. That movement \xe2\x80\x94 and it is \ncoming at no distant day \xe2\x80\x94 will give your missionary \nand colonization societies all they can do. \n\nWa*s there ever a greater need or a more hope- \nful field? a greater duty or a higher promise of \nsuccess? \n\n\n\nThe Negko a Citizen. \n\n\n\n391 \n\n\n\nMr. President, you may be sure that from thou- \nsands of Christian hearts all over the South the \nprayer goes up : " God bless the work of the \nAmerican Missionary Association, with all others \nwho are preaching the gospel to the poor!\'\' \n\n\n\nTHE MUSTARD-SEED AND THE LEAVEN. \n\n\n\n[OXFORD, (jA., NOVEMBER 19, 1882,] \n\n\n\n"Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom \nof heaven is like to a grain of mustard-seed, which a man took, and \nsowed in his field : which indeed is the least of all seeds ; but when \nit is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so \nthat the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof. \nAnother parable spake he unto them : The kingdom of heaven is \nlike unto leaven, which a woman took, and hid in three measures of \nmeal, till the whole was leavened." Matt. xiii. 31-33. \n\nHAD our Lord spoken only the parables of the \nSower and of the Tares, there might have \nsprung up a doubt as to the final triumph of his \nsaving truth. The parables of the Mustard-seed \nand of the Leaven come to reassure our faith. And \nthey are as fresh and true to-day as when Jesus de- \nlivered them, for the natural miracles of growth are \nbeing wrought every day, and nature expounds the \nsupernatural now not only as in the beginning, but \nfar more lucidly and eloquently. For every truth \nthat science finds in nature is a truth of God, and \nbelongs to his children. The parables of our text \nare distinct in their form and in their lessons, but \nthe spiritual laws they unfold and illustrate are so \nrelated that neither could be true without the other. \n\n(392) \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 393 \n\n\n\nThey belong to each other as surely as the two \nmotions of the heart are essential to each other. \n\nOur Lord says, " The kingdom of God cometh \nnot with observation." This the parable of the \nLeaven sets forth. But, in a true sense, this king- \ndom does come with observation; we see its work \nand progress in the world, and this the parable \nof the Mustard-seed illustrates. As Dean Trench \nsays: " The parable of the Leaven sets forth the \npower and action of the truth on the world brought \nin contact with it; the parable of the Mustard-seed \nthe power of the truth to develop itself from within \nitself \xe2\x80\x94 how it is as the tree shut up within the seed, \nwhich will unfold itself according to theimvard law \nof its own being. Both have .this in common, that \nthey describe the small and slight beginnings, the \ngradual progress, and the final marvelous progress \nof the Church." \n\nThe parable of the Mustard-seed declares the ex- \ntensive, that of the Leaven the intensive, develop- \nment of the gospel. \n\nThe statement in the parable as to the size of the \nmustard-seed is in proverbial form ; it was not in- \ntended to be scientifically precise. (It illustrates the \ncontemptible spirit of a class of infidels that they \ngravely object that there are really some seeds, as \ntobacco-seeds for example, that are not so large as \nmustard-seed!) The illustration is introduced not \nto show how small the seed was, or how large its \ngrowth, but the proportion between the smallness \nof the seed and the greatness of the plant. One \nsuch herb might well produce a million of mustard- \n\n\n\n394 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\n\n\nseeds, each as large as the first, to say nothing of \nroots, and stalks, and branches, and leaves \xe2\x80\x94 all to- \ngether containing a mass so many times larger than \nthe seed that the figures which express it would \nonly bewilder us could we at all ascertain them. \nOur Lord\'s comparison is the ultimate glories of \nhis kingdom compared with what to the eye of \nsense, or to mere worldly wisdom, were such utterly \ninsignificant beginnings. \n\nWhat was there then to be seen ? This Galilean \nTeacher and the little company of obscure friends, \nmore or less devoted to him. What were the great \nthings in the world then, of the sort that were to be \nseen? In learning, art$ and philosophy, Athens; \nin conquering power, Rome; in ecclesiastical organ- \nization and influence, such a Church as that which \nthe scribes and Pharisees controlled. If you look \nat this mustard-seed, what you see is very small \xe2\x80\x94 a \nlittle round and altogether insignificant- looking \nblack thing. What you do not see is its secret of \nlife that is locked up in its heart. The microscope \nwill show layer upon layer down to what seems to \nbe nothing, but there is a cell-form there with life \nin it. And much more; it is a life that imparts and \nperpetuates life in an infinitely widening series. \nGive the little seed a chance \xe2\x80\x94 soil, heat, air, moist- \nure \xe2\x80\x94 and it will grow more seeds, small and dead as \nit seems, than there are grains of sand in the globe, \nor drops of water in the seas. \n\nAnd the gospel \xe2\x80\x94 that is, Christ and his truth \xe2\x80\x94 is \na seed that has " life in itself/\' It is small at its be- \nginnings, as all the works of God are, so far as we \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 395 \n\n\n\nsee or know them. (As also are the works of men \nthat are good for any thing.) Look about you and \nsee. The great oak was once a small acorn; the \nsmaU acorn was once wrapped up in a very small \nbud, and that bud was once invisible in its small- \nness. So of all forms of life. If you would trace \nthe progress and seek the genesis of any life-forms, \nyou will presently reach a point where the micro- \nscope itself is blind. \n\nWe are slow to learn the parables of nature that \nGod sets before us day by day. The ambitions of \nmen sometimes seek to launch great schemes proud- \nly and upon a vast scale to begin with. But things \ngreat at first do not abide. The mythologic conceit \nof Minerva, full-grown and full-armed at the first, \nviolates both nature and philosophy. Just here, as \na lesson both of patience and hope \xe2\x80\x94 a lesson good \nfor men as well as boys \xe2\x80\x94 I am going to read you a \nlesson from one of George MacDonald\'s novels, \n" Weighed and Wanting." Two persons in the \nstory were talking of the need of helpful work \namong the wretchedly poor of London. (You young \nmen, who have had the rare good fortune to have \nbeen brought up on farms in the country, cannot un- \nderstand what is meant when men talk of the pov- \nerty and wretchedness of garret and cellar life in \nthe great cities.) Hester Raymount, a grand Christ- \nwoman, was almost in despair because she could do \nso little; her faith was nearly paralyzed, for she had \nbeen brooding over the magnitude of the work that \nneeded to be done more than she had been meditat- \ning upon the power that was in Christ to help her \n\n\n\n396 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\n\n\ndo such part of the work as he had committed to \nher. She was talking sadly enough one day with \nDoctor Christopher, who was also trying to do good. \nHe had money enough, but had learned medicine to \nhelp him in a work to which he felt that God had \ncalled him. (It is very strange to me that, for the \nmost part, only those who " preach " feel " called; " \nI believe God " calls " every one.) Hester envied \nthe good Doctor his power and opportunity; so one \nday she said to him: \n\n" Is it not delightful to know that you can start \nany thing when you please? 07 \n\nThe wise worker for the Master made answer: \n"Anybody with leisure can do that, who is will- \ning to begin where every thing ought to be begun \xe2\x80\x94 \nthat is, at the beginning. Nothing worth calling \ngood can or ever will be started full-grown. The \nessential of any good is life, and the very body of \ncreated life, and essential to it, being itself operant, \nis growth. The larger start you make the less room \nyou leave for life to extend itself. You fill with the \ndead matter of your construction the places where \nassimilation ought to have its perfect work, build- \ning by a life-process, self-extending and subserving \nthe whole. Small beginnings with slow growings \nhave time to root themselves thoroughly. I do \nnot mean in place, nor yet in social regard, but in \nwisdom. Such even prosper by failures, for their \nfailures are not too great to be rectified without \ninjury to the original idea. God\'s beginnings are \nimperceptible, whether in the region of soul or \nmatter." \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 397 \n\n\n\nWhat is the essential life of the gospel-seed? It \nis not merely the doctrine that Jesus taught; it is \ncertainly not the Church he planted upon the earth; \nleast of all is it any outward Church-form, whether \nexpressed in a creed, a polity, or a ritual. Jesus \nChrist is himself the very " mustard-seed " th at sym- \nbolizes the life that is in the gospel. "In him was \nlife." \n\nI mean this : If it had been possible for any think- \ner to have constructed an ideal character that yet \nnever lived, and to have put into his mouth every \nword that Jesus ever spoke, these words would not \nhave had life in themselves. If any thinker could \nhave constructed a philosophy of life that should \nhave contained in it every single truth that Jesus \never taught, then such a philosophy would have \nhad no life (of a sort that saves sinful men) in itself. \n" I am the truth," Jesus said. What makes his \nspoken truth a living and saving truth is his own \nlife. Truth that has life-seed in it must, somehow, \nbecome incarnate; it must be lived by a person, and, \nif it is to save men, it must be lived by a man. \nThere is no stronger impression made upon us when \nwe read the gospels than this: Jesus lived all he \ntaught. And herein is a lesson for us every one, in \nour sphere and measure of living. The truth we \nlive is our truth that has life-seed in it. It is not \nthe truth in our words, in our creeds, it is the truth \nin our lives that is self-propagating. One who does \nnot live his true doctrine may indeed give good ad- \nvice; a man who lives his truth cannot fail of use- \nfulness. Illustrations abound. Whether we preach \n\n\n\n398 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\n\n\npurity, or integrity, or benevolence, the important \nand vital thing is that we live the truth we teach. \n\n"What does history say to this parable of the Mus- \ntard-seed? We need not go far into the answer to- \nday. But the seed, once so small that the great \nones of our Lord\'s time took no account of it, has \ngrown into " a great tree." All the best things in \nthe world to-day gather about it, feed upon it, and \nare sheltered by it. What a space it fills! It is in \nour laws, customs, literature, science, philosophy, \nart; it is in all of our civilization that is good; and, \nif we look about us and beyond us, we see it spread- \ning always and everywhere. If we look into the \nfuture of our race, we see that all that has good and \nhope in it is vitally joined to the life of this seed \nand the growing of this tree. \n\nx The parable of the Leaven also shows the mar- \nvelous increase of the kingdom of Christ; but while \nthe parable of the Mustard-seed shows its outward \nand visible development \xe2\x80\x94 yet emphasizing the truth \nthat this outward growth is from within \xe2\x80\x94 this of \nthe Leaven declares the hidden, mysterious processes \nby which saving truth does its work in the world. \nIt teaches what the first does, but it goes farther; \nit not only shows the increase and development from \nwithin ; it not only illustrates the marvelous increase \nof what, in its beginnings, was so small; it also \nshows how the gospel changes into its own qualities \nwhatever it lays hold upon. \n\nLet us trace briefly some of the analogies sug- \ngested by the figure. \n\n1. The leaven, or yeast, is different from the lump \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 399 \n\n\n\nof meal. It is brought to it from without. So the \ngospel truth is not by humanity self-evolved. In \nits origin it is not of this world; it is not a product \nof the fermentation of philosophy. The kingdoms \nDaniel saw in the prophetic visions "rose out of the \nearth;" they belonged to this world. The king- \ndom of Christ, which John saw, "descended from \nGod out of heaven.\' 3 Our Lord himself said, " My \nkingdom is not of this world. 1 \' Christ Jesus, with \nhis incarnate truth, came into the inert mass of hu- \nmanity as a new and quickening power ; a center of \nlife around which all of good in man, and all of \ngood the gospel itself awakens, forms and gathers, \nas around one little yeast-cell millions more are \nformed " till the whole is leavened/\' \n\n2. The leaven and the meal have affinity for each \nother; yeast cannot work in substances not in affin- \nity with it. Yeast cannot work in a mass of plas- \nter of Paris, or powdered chalk; a small quantity \nof sulphuric and of some other acids immediately \narrests its processes. The gospel is \' leaven in hu- \nmanity because it finds its affinity in man. And it \nhas affinity for humanity because it is the gospel of \n"the Son of man." There might have been all the \ntruth, so far as words go, that there is in the gospel, \nbut it would not have been leaven in humanity had \nthe eternal Logos taken the form of an angel, or of \nany other creature but man, for his manifestation. \n" He took not on him the nature of angels, but the \nseed of Abraham." " He was made like unto his \nbrethren;" so like them that "he was tempted iu \nall points like as we are, yet without sin." Where- \n\n\n\n400 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\n\n\nfore the apostle adds: "In that he suffered, being \ntempted, he is able also to succor them that are \ntempted/*\' Jesus Christ brings to man that which \nhe needs for his completion. The "kingdom of \nheaven" is the renewal and exaltation of humanity \nby the righteous man, Jesus Christ. \n\n3. To use the words of Chrysostom: \n\n" That which is once leavened becomes leaven to \nthe rest; since as the spark, when it takes hold of \nwood, makes that which is already kindled to trans- \nmit the flame, and so seizes still upon more, thus it \nis also With the preaching of the word." \n\nIn the leaven it is a cell that produces another, \nand from this others proceed in an infinite series. \nThe scientists \xe2\x80\x94 Heaven prosper their search in all \nGod\'s works! \xe2\x80\x94 are finding out more and more about \n" cells." They have found out that there are cells \nwhere there is life. \n\nAVhat is a cell? It is a lar^e and difficult discus- \nsion, and needs a specialist for its elucidation. Take \na small particle of common yeast and place it under \na microscope. You will see a multitude of minute \nesfg-shaped bodies, not more than " one two hun- \ndred and fiftieth part of an inch in diameter." Pres- \nently these minute egg-shaped bodies, so very small \nas we have seen, begin to throw out from their in- \nconceivably thin sides \xe2\x80\x94 what one would call a shell \nif it were not so thin that it seems to be almost a \nmere nothing, as if it were the shadow of the least \nand thinnest something in the world \xe2\x80\x94 little buds, \nstill smaller than the cells and with thinner disks, \nthat presently grow into cells of full size; and from \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 401 \n\n\n\nthese more and more infinitely. Leaven diffuses it- \nself by cells: plants grow by cells; so do animals. \nSo does every thing visible by our eyes or by our \nmicroscopes grow and form its hidden beginnings to \nits largest development. \n\nAs the leaven-cells spread through the dough, so \nthe truth of Christ, if there be no hinderance, hid in \nthe heart, spreads throughout the soul and spirit \nand life of a man, and throughout the whole mass \nof humanity. And always where there is not re- \nsistance. Here is the difference: the meal is pas- \nsive, but human volition may prevent or arrest the \nprocesses of truth. And let me emphasize this that \nlias already been alluded, to: as the life of the gos- \npel is in the life of the Christ who lived it, so its as- \nsimilating power, so far as you and I are related to \nits spread among men. is in the truth we live \xe2\x80\x94 that \nwe make incarnate. Mere creeds, however perfect, \ndo not leaven men: the gospel lived does. \n\n4. What the gospel leaven does it does in persons, \nin individual men and women and\' children. There \nis no such thing as " leavening society," considered \nas something other than the whole number of per- \nsons who compose it. If we conceive of the truth \nas leavening " the whole lump" of humanity, we \nmust remember that it does this only as it works its \nblessed results in individuals. Thus, if it be said of \na certain town, " This town has improved greatly un- \nder religious influences, ?? what is the truth in the \ncase? Just this: that Smith, and Jones, and Brown, \nand the rest, are better men. If now we ask how \nthe truth leavens these persons, I answer, fc * Through \n\n\n\n402 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\nother persons who have been leavened, and so on \nback to the men whose lives were leavened by \nChrist, by contact with him by living faith." If I \nmay use the word \xe2\x80\x94 and why not, since He uses the \nnatural fact to illustrate his truth? \xe2\x80\x94 Jesus Christ is \nthe original spiritual cell from which grew every oth- \ner of untold millions. \n\nWhat you and I need just now to think of is this: \nIt is not the Church, as a corporate body or society, \nthat does any good in this world, but the persons \nin it. I read you more gospel truth from MaeDon- \nald\'s novel, "Weighed and Wanting." It is fresh \non my thoughts; I was reading it but last week, on \nthe cars. He says in one place: \n\n"How the devil would have laughed at the idea \nof a society for saving the world ! But when he saw \nOne take it in hand, One who was in no haste even to \ndo that; One who would only do the will of God \nwith all his heart and soul, and cared for nothing \nelse, then indeed he might tremble for his kingdom! \nIt is the individual Christians, forming the Church \nby their obedient individuality, that have done all \nthe good done since men, for the love of Christ, be- \ngan to gather together. It is individual ardor alone \nthat can kindle into larger flame. There is no true \npower but that which has individual roots. Neither \ncustom, nor law, nor habit, nor foundation, is a root. \nThe real roots are individual conscience that hates \nevil, and individual faith that loves and obeys God, \nindividual heart with its kiss of charity." \n\nThe spiritual power of this Church at Oxford is \njust and only what the personal spiritual power is. \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 403 \n\n\n\n5. What the gospel leaven does for us it must \nfirst of all do in the hidden places of our hearts. It \nmust be hid in the innermost recesses of our nature. \nIt is not a matter of mere external conformity to \ncertain conventional observances, or even what are \ncalled duties. Its true working is in the heart; its \nresults are that we are, in our thoughts and loves, \nassimilated to Christ, the original cell of all spiritual \nlife. \n\nLet me ask you now to make some sharp test of \nyourselves. Let each one search diligently his own \nheart. Are you being leavened by the truth that is \nin Jesus? The ruling love determines. What is it \nthat you love most? Is it gold? or fame? or pow- \ner? or pleasure? or is it the truth of Christ ? \n\n6. We have in both parables the time-element, not \nas accidental but essential in God\'s plans and deal- \nings with men. This also is in accordance with \nevery analogy of nature; and nature cannot lie or \npreach a false or contradictory gospel. Many oth- \ner parables and many words our Lord uses recog- \nnize the time-element in Christian life. The very \nterms that inspiration uses to express the origin and \nprocesses of spiritual life imply the time-element, \nand they are without meaning if it be denied. If \nnot, what mean such words as " quickened," " con- \nceived," "born/ 3 "babes," "grow," and many more \nlike them, as applied to the genesis and experiences \nof religion ? \n\nThe principle of which I now speak is as uni- \nversal as it is important. STo change in place or \ncondition can take place instantaneously. Light, \n\n\n\n404 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\n\n\nthough it is so swift, requires time. It takes time \nfor the nerves to report to the brain a hurt upon \nthe finger. Astronomers recognize in their calcu- \nlation what they call the " personal equation " of \nobservers of the heavenly bodies. It is short time, \nbut it is time. A whale seventy-two feet long re- \nquires, it has been determined, a full second for his \nbrain to know that a spear-point has pierced his tail. \n\nIt is almost too obvious and commonplace to say \nthat whatever has life must grow, and that growth \nrequires time, not as an accident, nor as an arbitra- \nry, but as an essential, condition. This law prevails \nin intellectual and spiritual even more than it pre- \nvails in vegetable and animal life. \n\nWe need not question it; the time-element enters \nby a natural and, I may say (since God has so ar- \nranged the constitution of his universe), a divine ne- \ncessity into religious life. It is folly and fanaticism \nto deny this law, written upon every thing that \nlives, recognized in the Holy Scriptures, and pres- \nent in our very consciousness. There never was a \nchild of God who did not, if faithful, ripen as years \npassed over him. Moses did; and Paul, and Wes- \nley, and Juclson, and Livingstone \xe2\x80\x94 and, I say it most \nreverently, so did the man Jesus. It is said of him : \n"The child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled \nwith wisdom ; and the grace of God was upon hhn." \n\nMoreover, much in Christian character depends \nnot merely upon what we believe, upon what we \nfeel, upon what is done in us, but upon what we do; \nperhaps much more upon what we suffer \xe2\x80\x94 and this \nrequires time. \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 405 \n\n\n\nIf you ask about the processes by which a Chris- \ntian is to approach perfection \xe2\x80\x94 -and let us always re- \nmember that it is to be an eternal approaching \xe2\x80\x94 I \nanswer, "It is not a question only as to what God \ncan do, but a question chiefly as to what it actually \npleases him to do/ 5 And we see it pleases him to \nmake time one of the conditions of the process, as \nthe parables of the Mustard-seed and of the Leaven, \nas all nature, and all common sense, and all obser- \nvation, and all experience, that can give articulate \nand rational expression to itself, set forth and con- \nfirm. The question is not whether God, by his al- \nmighty Spirit, can make a man, by one given spir- \nitual act, as good as he can be, but whether he chooses \nthat way. I say \xe2\x80\x94 his word and his works being \nwitnesses- \xe2\x80\x94 he does never, in such a case, choose any \ninstantaneous method. Having made man as he has \nmade him, he could not so choose. And why not? \nFor two reasons that involve each other. First: \nCharacter is conditioned on volition, and cannot be \ncreated in any such sense as a world may be created. \nSecondly: The whole gospel scheme is one of co- \noperation \xe2\x80\x94 God and man working together \xe2\x80\x94 and \nthis requires time. \n\nIt is fanaticism of a very meager and blind sort to \nconclude that by any so-called " act of faith" any \nman can achieve instantly what requires time, and \nfor the reason that it requires time to live and to do \nand suffer the will of God. \n\nMen talk of the moment of conversion. What do \nthey mean by that? I grant you that, in strictness \nof thought, there must be an instant when spiritual \n\n\n\n406 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\n\n\nlife begins in a man\'s soul, just as there was an in- \nstant when both bodily and spiritual life began in \nthe darkness where God fashioned wonclrously the \nchild conceived and not for a long time yet to be \nborn \xe2\x80\x94 a moment when that was which just now was \nnot. But no science can absolutely fix that point \nof time, or eternity \xe2\x80\x94 which should I say? There is \nan instant when that life, so unsearchable in its be- \nginnings, manifested itself; but there is no search- \ning that can determine just when that life began to \nbe. But the main question is, Is there life? \n\nThere are some ill-informed persons, who think \nloosely and know not the force of words, who are \ndisposed to say, " If one does not know the very \ntime and place of his spiritual new birth, then he has \nhad no spiritual new birth." This is folly, pure and \nsimple. It is true, indeed, that many do know when \nthey first realized in consciousness the " quicken- \nings" of the new life in the soul, but there is no \nman, who understands what he is talking about, who \ncan, on the dial-plate of his spiritual history, put his \nfinder on the very figure that marks the hour when \nhe began to exist in religious or spiritual life. \n\nOne says, " On such a day and hour, and at such \na place, I was converted." It is no more than to \nsaj^, " On such a clay and hour, and at such a place, \nI was born." That does not determine when or \nwhere the new being really was first a being, a person. \n\nThis 19th day of November is, as we say, my birth- \nday. That is, forty-three years ago I came into this \nworld "with observation," and began to occupy a \nplace among those who were counted in census ta- \n\n\n\nThe Mustard-seed and the Leaven. 407 \n\n\n\nbles. But I was a person that God counted before \nthat day. I have known of two very good men, \neach one saying " he was spiritual father to me." \nWhy? Forsooth, because they chanced to be about \nwhen I stepped forth one Sunday morning, in July, \n1854, and joined the visible Church! How absurd! \nWhere were they when the renewing Spirit, by the \nsaving leaven of divine truth, fashioned my spirit- \nual life in the secret places deep clown in and deeper \ndown below my own conscious thoughts? \n\nThe difference is just this : the consciousness of \nthis new spiritual life in the soul is vivid as light- \nning and pronounced as thunder in some, so that \nthey do know the hour and spot where they first \nknew that they were beginning to live in Christ \nJesus ; in others this consciousness comes gradually \nand gently as the dawn of a cloudless day. \n\nNow, if any careless hearer infers that because I \nsay the time-element enters into the divine methods \nof perfecting religious character that therefore I set \nforth a lower standard of religious aspiration and \nreligious living, I tell him, " Nay, brother, you do \nnot even know what I am talking about. I am \ntalking of a spiritual life so deep and high that your \ndefinitions do not measure it." \n\n, I will use no past tense. I will never say Christ \nhas done his work in this or that man; I will say, \nChrist is doing his work in this man. And this \nChrist will do through all eternity, if he have his \nway with him. No man will fairly understand \nwhat I am now talking about, w r ho, by any thought, \nor wish, or plan, or hope of life, consciously and de- \n\n\n\n408 The Mustard-seed and the Leaven. \n\n\n\nliberately opposes the working of the Christ leaven \nin his heart and life. I believe that the richest and \nsweetest of all the beatitudes is this : " Blessed are \nthey which do hunger and thirst after righteousness; \nfor they shall be tilled/\' Filled, but never sated. \nThis hunger, this thirst, are immortal. That which \nfeeds increases the divine pang of spiritual hunger. \n\n7. " Till the whole be leavened.\'\' This is a word \nof promise and prophecy. The leavening has been \ngoing on since God gave to men the first w r ord of \ntruth \xe2\x80\x94 before Jesus was born and ever since that \nhallowed hour. Before Jesus, all that God did was \nthe preparation; since he came, all that is w 7 orth re- \nmembering is the history. It is the leaven of Jesus \nthat changed Europe, that has made America, that \nis making Madagascar, India, the islands of the sea, \nChina, and Africa. \n\nWhat hosts of croaking frogs we hear sometimes. \n"Alas for the Church! " croak they. "Alas for the \ntimes ! the world is getting worse; \' the former days \nwere better than these.\' " There never was a great- \ner lie, or a meaner libel on Divine Providence. \n\nWorse, indeed! Who are we? Descendants of \nsavages. Compare the times now and only one hun- \ndred or one hundred and fifty years ago. Take for \nillustration a special case, where many cases might \nbe offered. Consider England and Ireland. It is \nbad enough now; but how T different the attitude and \nspirit of the Government now and one hundred \nyears ago! Compare the methods undertaken by \nGladstone \xe2\x80\x94 that noblest figure in public life to-day \nin the whole w r orld \xe2\x80\x94 in the pacification of Ireland \n\n\n\nThe Mustard^seed and the Leaven* 409 \n\n\n\nand the methods of prime-ministers a century ago. \nWe see this man . simply and grandly trying to do \nright ; we read history, and see those of former gen- \nerations robbing and slaying without emotions of \npity or pretense of justice. \n\nThis Christ-leaven is working its way through \nthe whole lump. It has worked out of civilization \nlegalized slavery; it is working out all despotisms, \ndespotism of governments and of ignorance. It is \nworking out the savagery th\xc2\xbbat still lingers in civil- \nization, and the superstitions and fanaticisms that \nstill linger in the Church. \n\nMay it work all sin out of you and me! \n\nOur Lord says, " Till the whole be leavened." \nHow deep a word is this to your conscience and \nmine! Not a belief, not a feeling, but the whole \nman is to be leavened. The man in his loves and \nhates, his joys and griefs, in his plans and aspira- \ntions. The man in his whole life, at the anvil as \nwell as at the sacrament ; in his savings and spend- \nings, as well as in his prayers and songs. \n\nWe are to be all Christ\'s \xe2\x80\x94 all and forever. We \nmay conclude with the prayer of St. Ambrose : \n\n" May the holy Church, which is figured under \nthe type of this woman in the gospel, whose meal \nare we, hide the Lord Jesus in the innermost places \nof our hearts till the warmth of the divine wisdom \npenetrates into the innermost recesses of our wills! " \n\n\n\nTHE LIFE TO COME. \n\n\n\n[OXFORD, G-A.j NOVEMBER 26, 1882,] \n\n\n\n"For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were \ndissolved, we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, \neternal in the heavens." 2 Cor. v. 1. \n\nTHE thought of annihilation is repugnant to ev- \nery mind in every age and every race of men. \nExplain it as we may, or deride it if we will, this \nfact remains : there is something in man that utter- \nly refuses to die \xe2\x80\x94 to go into nothingness. It may \nbe doubted whether any sort of education, whether \nany long-indulged habit of thinking about these \nquestions as out-and-out materialists are supposed \nto think of them, ever yet sufficed to utterly hush \nthat voice, deep in the secret places of our nature, \nthat as soon as it can speak and as long as it can \nspeak declares, as one of the fundamental beliefs of \nthe human mind, its own immortality. Very often \n\xe2\x80\xa2avowed atheists have forgotten for a time to be con- \nsistent, and have talked about the other world and \nthe hereafter; just as some of our modern unbeliev- \ning scientists, in elaborate arguments to prove that \nthere is no designing Mind in the universe, often \nemploy words which imply design in the facts and \nprocesses of nature that they describe. \n\nThe lowest savages and the noblest men of civil- \n\n(410) \n\n\n\nThe Life to Com& \n\n\n\n411 \n\n\n\nized races agree in this, that this life is not all ; there \nis something to come; death is not and cannot be \nwhat it seems to be, annihilation. I know that at \ntimes men have affirmed that there is no hereafter, \nbut they cannot keep to that track of argument; \nnature will have her revenge on their philosophy \nand somehow manage to record her protest. \n\nOne thing is certain: whether there be such an \nessence as spirit; whether thought be the result of \nmere organization ; whether mind, which thinks and \nfeels, dissolves into nothingness or no, the body does \nnot. There is no annihilation for the body, by any \nskill of science or process of natural law. If science \nhas settled any thing whatsoever, it has settled this: \nthat matter is indestructible. Make any experiment \nyou will, and with any substance. Take the hard- \nest, toughest things, or the softest and frailest. Heat \nup your furnaces till they are white, and burn this \ntoughest or frailest thing in the universe. It goes \noff in flame or smoke, or sinks down into ashes, but \nyou have not destroyed one atom of it. Take the \nashes and pound them, if possible, into greater fine- \nness, or try them with any solvents known to chem- \nistry. You may so change their form and relation \nas to lose sight of them, but you have not destroyed \n\xe2\x80\x94 resolved into nothingness \xe2\x80\x94 the very least atom. \nWhether by burning, pounding, or dissolving you \ntry your experiment, the result is the same; you \nchange forms, you destroy nothing. There is not \nin the whole universe one atom of any sort that \never existed that is extinct, non-existent, missing \nto-day. There are in the universe just as many \n\n\n\n412 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\natoms as when it was first created, and no more \xe2\x80\x94 \nunless, as it may be, God is creating new worlds. \n\nNow, there is something that is behind thought \nand feeling; something in which it inheres and from \nwhich it proceeds, jnst as bodies are necessary to the \nqualities which characterize them. It is as easy and \nreasonable to think of weight and length and thick- \nness, of color and form, without bodies to which \nthey belong, as to think of thought without some- \nthing that thinks; to think of feeling without some- \nthing that feels. To make the annihilation of mind \na conceivable thing, it must first be proved that \nthought is a product of the bodily organization \xe2\x80\x94 \na sort of secretion of the brain, just as bile is the \nsecretion of the liver. But this has never been \nproved, and in the nature of the case it never can \nbe proved. \n\nThe scientific law of the conservation of substance \nand force- \xe2\x80\x94 a law that utterly refuses to let slip out \nof its grasp into nothingness any single atom, or \nany one form of force- \xe2\x80\x94 does, in my belief, absolutely \ndeny and repudiate as unscientific, impossible, and \nunthinkable the notion that the something we call \n" spirit\' 7 can any more cease to exist than an atom \nof matter can cease to exist. And we know that \nit is as possible to create out of nothing an atom of \nmatter as it is to resolve it into nothing. \n\nSt. Paul\'s language in the text is exactly scientific: \n"We know that if our earthly house of this taber- \nnacle be dissolved;" \xe2\x80\x94 he does not say destroyed. \n"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes," does not mean de- \nstruction; only change in form and function. \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\n413 \n\n\n\nHe affirms, as an article of his faith, that when \nthis present tent-dwelling, called " tabernacle," is \ntaken down \xe2\x80\x94 ;i dissolved 7 \' \xe2\x80\x94 " we" \xe2\x80\x94 that is, the soul, \nthe real person \xe2\x80\x94 will certainly have another body \nfor the indwelling of the soul. For " house not \nmade with hands" here does not refer to the heav- \nenly city, or the house of the Father in which the \n"many mansions" are "prepared" for his children. \nThe apostle is still speaking of the soul\'s house; if \nour present soul -house \xe2\x80\x94 this body \xe2\x80\x94 be dissolved, we \nwill have another, aud of this he affirms \xe2\x80\x94 seeing \nthat it is no more under any law of mortality \xe2\x80\x94 that \nit will be " eternal in the heavens." This " building \nof God" is antithetic to another building, namely, \nour present perishing bodies; it will be something \nwhich is not the soul itself \xe2\x80\x94 just as the body we \nnow inhabit is not the soul, but only its tent and \nvehicle for a time \xe2\x80\x94 but a something as necessary to \nthe modes of existence and uses of life in what we \ncall the spiritual and eternal world as these bodies \nare necessary to our states and modes of action in \nthe present world. It is the opinion of some that \ncorporeity \xe2\x80\x94 bodily form \xe2\x80\x94 is necessary to the exist- \nence of a finite spirit. It may be that a human \nbeing cannot exist as pure spirit \xe2\x80\x94 as spirit wholly \ndissociated from form. But corporeity may be and, \nin sound thinking as well as according to the doc- \ntrine of the Bible, must be denied of God. For \nGod can have " no form nor parts; " God is infinite, \nand there cannot be infinite form, since form signi- \nfies limitation. To talk of a four-sided triangle \nwould be as rational as to speak of infinite form. \n\n\n\n414 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nI will not affirm that the human spirit cannot \nexist, or act, without some kind of form as its \ndwelling-place and vehicle, but it is certain that the \nScriptures teach that, in absolute strictness of speech, \nthere are no disembodied human spirits. When \nthey go out of these bodies, and out of the sight and \nhearing therefore of our bodily eyes and ears, they \nassume some other form. They are said to "be \nclothed upon "with that form \xe2\x80\x94 not yet visible to \nus; this in the text is signified by the "house not \nmade with hands." The same fact and law of ex- \nistence underlies St. Paul\'s argument on the resur- \nrection of the dead, where he calls the resurrection \nbody "a spiritual body." \n\nWhether the tabernacle of the spirit spoken of \nin the text as "a house not made with hands" is \nidentical with the "spiritual body," is an inquiry \nthat may involve difficulty, but it need not give us \ntrouble. For this much is clear: St. Paul affirms \nthat when our souls go out of these bodies they as- \nsume, rather are "clothed upon" by, others. And \nthe phrase "spiritual body" indicates the essential \ncharacteristics of the new form, whether we think \nof the soul-house that is ready for us the instant we \nmove out of these present "tabernacles" that are \ndaily being dissolved, or of the bodies that will be \nours at the resurrection. \n\nObviously we have here a difficulty of expression; \nlanguage cannot perfectly adapt itself to the state- \nment of conditions and existences now unknown to \nus. It is hardly more odd-sounding to say bodily \nspirit than it is to say "spiritual body;" but what \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\n415 \n\n\n\nelse could St. Paul say, when he wished to speak of \na something not spirit but connected with it, and \ndifferent from and yet more like it than the bodies \nwe now know? It seems to me not improbable that \nif there were some word exactly fitted to character- \nize the form assumed by the spirit when it escapes \nfrom these bodies, it would appear so plain to us \nthat we would immediately conclude that we un- \nderstood the whole matter fully. I speak in this \nway because it does not occur to most people that \nthey no more understand how spirit dwells in these \npresent bodies than they understand how it may \ndwell in some other kind of body. There is no \ngreater mystery than the mode of the indwelling \nof our spirits in the bodies they now have. This \nmystery does not perplex us, because we are so fa- \nmiliar with the fact that we imagine that we com- \nprehend the mode. \n\nIf one should ask me, $\'How can God give the \nspirit another body? " I answer, " I do not in the least \nknow." But before he concludes against the truth \nof St. Paul\'s doctrine on this ground, let me ask \nhim, "Do you know how God gives our spirits their \npresent bodies? how did they get into them? how \ndo they stay in them ? how do they get out of them? " \nAs to the how of our complex existence, we know \njust as much of the mode of existence of spirit and \nbody in the life to come as we know of it in the life \nthat now is. That is, we know nothing of either; \nand it is not of the least consequence that we should \nknow. Else God would, in some way, have told us. \n\nIf it be asked, " What are some of the qualities \n\n\n\n416 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nand characteristics of this \' house not made with \nhands? 7 \xe2\x80\x94 this body with which the spirit is clothed \nin the invisible world when it is unclothed here in \nthe visible world by the processes of nature that we \ncall death? "I answer, " The apostle\'s language makes \ntwo things clear to us: (1) It is \'a spiritual body; \' \n(2) it is immortal, being \'eternal in the heavens." 7 \nSometimes we can have glimpses of more than \nwe can describe or put into words. So of this re- \nmarkable phrase, " spiritual body." What do these \nwords mean? I have thought of them very often, \nand have never satisfied myself; perhaps I never \nwill. But I think I see pretty clearly one truth \nand one fact that they intimate; \xe2\x80\x94 a form of exist- \nence in which the spiritual predominates over the \nmaterial. We know how gravity binds these pres- \nent mortal bodies to the earth, to which they will \nsoon be returned. Our present bodies come under \nall the laws which control mere matter. We move \nslowly and with difficulty; we are arrested by walls \nand other obstacles. Our bodies are like other or- \nganized bodies; the very law of their organization \nanticipates and provides for disorganization. But \n"a spiritual body 77 is not dominated by matter, or \nthe laws which control it. If spiritual bodies have \nany relation to such laws, it is only as these laws \nare subservient to the ends the spirit wills to accom- \nplish. We see some faint foreshadowing of such \nrelations between spirit and matter even in this \nworld, where now and then some great mind and \nlarge heart seems almost to have control of mate- \nrial conditions, dominating the body by force of \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\n417 \n\n\n\nspirit, and using many of the mightiest agencies of \nmaterial nature to serve its ends. \n\nBut how transcendently superior in these respects \nwill our spiritual bodies be ! As the bodies we now \nhave are perfectly suited to our conditions, perfectly \nadapted to the ends for which we want bodies in \nthis world, so will our spiritual bodies be perfectly \nfitted to the conditions of existence which await us \nin the other world. As we use our present bodies \nto accomplish the ends of the present life, so will \nw r e use our spiritual bodies for the ends God will \nappoint us to accomplish in the life that is to come. \n\nLet me dwell on this thought a moment. How \nadmirably our bodies are adapted to their present \nuses! To be able to explain this adequately, both \nyour preacher and his congregation should have \nperfect knowledge of anatomy, physiology, mathe- \nmatics, mechanics, chemistry, possibly of other sci- \nences also. An illustration or two will suggest what \nis not now to be discussed. For instance, the aver- \nage body is the right size, and lasts long enough for \nits uses here. I mean that if men, as a race, were \neither much larger or smaller than they are, or if \nthey lived much longer than they do, they would \nbe badly adjusted to the work they have to do. For \nthe ordinary occupations of life, man\'s combination \nof nerves, ligaments, muscles, and bones, gives him \njust the right degree of strength and facility for his \nwork. If the average arm were shorter or weaker, \nthe average man could not raise the weights or do \nother things necessary to be done. If it were much \nlonger or stronger, he would have a great deal of \n27 \n\n\n\n418 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nforce he would not need to exert; perhaps he could \nnot, with this excess of force, do satisfactorily the \nkind of work necessary to be done. In a word, \nman\'s present bodily adjustment to his environment, \nto the world he lives in \xe2\x80\x94 its size, weight, and rela- \ntion to the solar system and all other systems, so far \nas we know \xe2\x80\x94 and to the work he has to do in this \nworld, is absolutely perfect. \n\nYou may extend this inquiry if you will, and you \nwill find fitness in all points. Man\'s appetite of \nhunger and his function of digestion are as perfectly \nadapted to the food he needs as the length and \nstrength of his arm are adjusted to the weights he \nhas to lift, or to any other task he needs to perform. \nIn brief, these bodies are in harmony with all the \nmathematics and mechanics and chemistry of the \nworld we now live in, and are therefore perfectly \nadapted to the uses of the spirit for which bodies \nwere given to spirits. \n\nITow, every analogy in the universe which is open \nto our view, every principle of divine law that is \nexpressed in any exhibition of creative power, as \nwell as every word of inspiration, lead us to believe, \nwithout a shadow of doubt, that the spiritual bodies \nwith which we (when I say we I mean our spirits \xe2\x80\x94 \nthat is, our real selves) will be "clothed upon" in \nthe invisible world, which we will presently enter, \nwill be, in every respect, perfectly adapted to our \nneeds in that mode of existence. And more, that \nmode of existence will appear to be in perfect har- \nmony with us when first we enter it; as natural to \nus as this world, as first felt in a mother\'s arms, ex- \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\n419 \n\n\n\npressed in a mother\'s form, voiced in a mother\'s \nwords, or mirrored in a mother\'s eyes, is natural to \nthe baby that has just come out of the realm of the \ninfinite and invisible to dwell for a time in the finite \nand visible. \n\nLast Sunday, when we were about to bury in the \nkind bosom of our mother earth the mere physical \nbody (if you will let me employ an awkward phrase \nas antithesis to St. Paul\'s equally awkward phrase, \n"spiritual body") of Professor Bonnell\'s dear little \ngirl, I made some allusion to the beautiful fact in \nnature that God, directly or through some fit agen- \ncy, prepares beforehand for the coming of every new \nlife that appears in this world. "What he does per- \nfectly and upon an infinite scale, through all the \nprocesses and changes of nature, men do, by instinct \nand from the teachings of experience, upon a lim- \nited scale. We prepare our fields for the seeds that \nare to be planted, and for the crops that are to be \ngrown, that there may be wise and useful adjust- \nments between our designs and the conditions under \nwhich we work. The expectant mother prepares a \nlittle world for the babe that is to come to her with \na new prophecy of hope. We seek in all our school \nand college training to prepare our children for the \nduties that await them. \n\nSo we may be sure that there will be perfectly \nnatural and harmonious adjustments between the \nvehicles of our immortal energies \xe2\x80\x94 between our \nspiritual bodies and the sphere into which we go \nwhen we leave this present world. If it be needful \nin the life to come that we move from one place to \n\n\n\n420 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nanother as quickly as the light moves, it may read- \nily be done, for our volitions will not be held back \nby spiritual bodies; for spiritual bodies cannot sus- \ntain such relations to gravity as our fleshly bodies \nsustain to it, if indeed they will sustain any relation \nto it. If this be so, the limitations of time and \nspace which now press upon us will be unknown. \nIn many senses it may be, we shall "be as the an- \ngels," strong, swift, immortal. The astronomers \nmake us dizzy when they tell us of the distances \nand magnitudes of the universe. But it is not too \nlarge for the explorations and useful activities of \nmillions upon millions multiplied of human souls \nredeemed that are clothed upon with spiritual \nbodies. \n\nI do not mean to assert or to intimate that the \nmany millions of far-off worlds that people space \nwill be the fields of activity for redeemed spirits; \nfor spiritual bodies are so different from these pres- \nent heavy physical or natural bodies that they may \nnot at all need mere material worlds for their uses. \nThe worlds they will inhabit, being adapted to \nthem, may well differ as much from such a world \nas this earth, or from such a world as Venus, or \nMars, as the spiritual bodies themselves differ from \nour present natural bodies. \n\nIf these things be true, the sphere in which spir- \nitual bodies live and move may be very close to the \nworld in which we who are still in the flesh live and \nmove. We do not know r how to measure distances \nor dimensions, or how to estimate relations, in such \naltogether possible coexistences. \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. 421 \n\nIt may be remarked here, not as explanatory of \nthe mystery of the spiritual bodies that await our \ngoing hence, but as an illustrative instance, that the \nbody in which our risen Lord manifested himself, \nduring the forty days between the resurrection and \nthe ascension, seems, in its appearances and disap- \npearances, its sudden manifestations in rooms whose \ndoors were shut, its ascension from the solid earthy \nwhich had no power to hold to him, to have been \na spiritual body. \n\nHow near and yet how far from us one may be \nwho dwells in a spiritual body! When Jesus " man- \nifested 5 \' himself to his disciples, it was done so in- \nstantaneously that he seemed to have been already \nthere; when he " vanished," he seemed, to their eyes \nand ears and hands, as far gone from them as if a \nuniverse stood between. O if these eyes could see \nspiritual bodies, what visions we might behold ! How \nnear we may be to them! How near they may be \nto us! Myriads of circles may be drawn around a \ncommon center; how the spheres of being compre- \nhend one another, we may not know. No doubt it \nis well that we cannot know and see and hear all \nthat is close to us; we could hardly finish the work \nto which the Master has appointed us. It is idle, \nand it may be hurtful, to ask too curiously concern- \ning these things. \n\nBut we may ask, "What do the Scriptures tell us \nof the worlds, or spheres, into which the spirits of % \nthe good \xe2\x80\x94 now clothed upon with their soul-house, \nor tabernacle, from heaven \xe2\x80\x94 have entered?" They \ntell us much \xe2\x80\x94 much more than can be set in order \n\n\n\n422 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nbefore you to-day* I shall only mention some char- \nacteristic statements \xe2\x80\x94 nearly all of them figurative \n\xe2\x80\x94 to give stronger statement of glorious facts than \nany form of literal and exact speech could convey. \n\n1. What we may call the negative characteristics. \nI do not dwell upon them; I only mention a few \xe2\x80\x94 \nyour reference Bibles or a concordance will give you \nmany. There is no sickness; of that country it is \nsaid, " The inhabitants shall no more say, I am sick." \nThere is no pain, " neither sorrow, nor crying," for \n64 God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." \n" There is no night" \xe2\x80\x94 type of evil. There is "no \nmore sea" \xe2\x80\x94 type to the Jews of old of desolating \nand hostile forces. There is no sin among these \nredeemed ones; \xe2\x80\x94 this, thank God, is no figure! \nAnd "there is no more death," for "death is swal- \nlowed up " \xe2\x80\x94 overcome of life. Life there is so in- \ntense, so godlike, that death can have no place \namong them. \n\n2. What we may call the positive characteristics. \nAs to the place, or what is represented as place to \nhelp our imagination take hold on absolute truths, \nwe have the most beautiful and fascinating images \nthat ever moved the heart of man. The holy writ- \ners speak of fair cities. We look through the eyes \nof the exile of Patmos, and we see walls of jasper \nand gates of pearl. We look through the open \ngates, and see streets of gold and a bright river run- \nning through the midst of it, with trees golden with \nfruit all along its margin. The city is full of bright- \nrobed and beautiful people. They bear palms of \nvictory, and upon their heads are splendid crowns. \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\n423 \n\n\n\nWe hear harps of gold, with the songs of the angels \nand of the saints. \n\nBut gold is cheap, pearls are commonplace, com- \npared to the reality. Inspiration seized upon the \nthings we prize most to lift us up to the noblest \ncontemplations and sentiments possible to us. \n\nThere are many ways in which heaven is repre- \nsented to us. Just now I mention but two others, \nand they belong to each other: Our Lord speaks of \nhome-like scenes and enjoyments in heaven. Laz- \narus is in Abraham\'s bosom. Jesus speaks of those \nwho should " sit down in the kingdom of God with \nAbraham, Isaac, and Jacob." Appealing directly \nto the home-instinct (and did it because he meant \nto satisfy it with the truth), he said: " Let not your \nheart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also iu \nme. In my Father\'s house are many mansions; \nif it were not so, I would have told you. I go to \nprepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare \na place for you, I will come again, and receive \nyou unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be \nalso." \n\nGod has not seen fit to give us a schedule of the \nemployments of his redeemed ones when they have \nentered into that sphere where spiritual bodies are \nto be their vehicles and servants. But some things \nare too plain to admit of a moment\'s doubt. For \none thing, the notion of heaven that makes it a \nplace of eternal choir-practice is absurd. As if \nGod\'s purpose in framing the worlds, and in creat- \ning arid redeeming man, was that he might be sung \nto! There are ways of praising God other than by \n\n\n\n424 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nsinging, sweet and good as it is. Nothing praises \nor pleases God like service. \n\nIt is certain that activity \xe2\x80\x94 elevated, intense, con- \nstant, eternal \xe2\x80\x94 will characterize the lives of those \nredeemed spirits who are clothed upon with spirit- \nual bodies. The very lowest forms of life indicate \na degree of activity. The poor sponge has activity \nin virtue of its being alive. The law is universal; \nwherever there is life\xe2\x80\x94 vegetable, animal, or intel- \nlectual \xe2\x80\x94 there is action. One of the sages of an- \ntiquity expressed it thus: "To energize is to exist." \nThat is, where there is existence in the sense of life, \nthere is energy in action. The higher the form of \nlife the greater the energy, and the intenser the ac- \ntivity. Nothing can less need proof or illustration. \n\nThere will be service \xe2\x80\x94 something good to do. \nThere is room enough and work enough for all. It \nmay well be that we shall have to learn how to do \nour work; it is to be hoped so, for hardly anything \nis so delightful as learning. When the baby first \ncomes into this world, it does not know what to do \nwith itself; it does not even know the use of its lit- \ntle fingers. By and by it learns that there is enough \nin this world for its fingers to do. But this much \nis certainly true: all that we learn in the school of \nChrist here fits us for better service and nobler joys \nyonder. I fear that some of us, who only want re- \nligion to keep us out of hell, and therefore seek as \nlittle as we think will do (hardly enough to do), will \nhave to begin in heaven\'s school in a very low form \n\xe2\x80\x94 will have to begin there to " learn our letters" in \nthe great studies of usefulness and of true happiness. \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\n425 \n\n\n\nWe must conclude that in the sense of idleness \nthere is no rest in heaven. There is work to be \ndone there, and upon a scale so vast that it may \nsome day take in the whole universe \xe2\x80\x94 except (shall \nI say?) that part of it which, in "outer darkness," \nis without the fair city with its jasper walls and \ngates of pearl. \n\nBut let us not fall into the error of supposing \nthat action and service mean only doing certain \nthings. It is also learning; it is thinking; it is \nfeeling \xe2\x80\x94 in a word, the use of all our redeemed fac- \nulties. How a redeemed spirit, clothed upon with \na spiritual body, can study, can think, can learn of \nall God\'s wonderful works and wonderful words! \nHow such a spirit will look into the heart of things! \nHow it will hear answers to its questions inaudible \nto us ! \n\nWe see in this world great differences in capacity \nnot only of learning but of truly apprehending and \nrightly feeling truth. People are born with differ- \ning capacities; culture in books, in art, in experi- \nence, but culture, far more, in character, makes \ngreater differences. Compare two children. One \nnever sees the blush of a rose/ never hears the song \nof a bird. The other has all the senses of the soul \nopen. Now and then half-superstitious people say of \nsuch a child, "The angels talk to it." Many years \nago, one autumn evening, just before sunset, a man \ncarried a little girl, in her fourth year, to the Capi- \ntol in Nashville, Tennessee. The little one had \nnever seen a great house like this before. She stood \ngazing at the great columns, the rays of the setting \n\n\n\n426 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nsun flashing back in golden splendors from the \nmany windows. Her eyes were sparkling and her \ncheeks were flushed. " Daughter/\' said the father, \n\'\xe2\x80\xa2whose house is this?" The little thing clasped \nher hands together, a worshipful spirit shone in her \nface, and she answered, "It is God\'s house." \n\nHow the beauty of God\'s great universe thrills \nsome souls! In some souls, \n\nThe sight of the meanest flower that blows, \nMoves thoughts that are too deep for tears. \n\nHow some people\'s souls vibrate under the spell of \nmusic ! The man with no music in him thinks it an \naffectation, or the mere excitation of certain nerve- \ncenters, like the effect of martial music upon a spir- \nited horse. But it is not this. There are souls so \nattuned to the harmonies of music that they can \nexpress, not simply in songs, but in wordless music, \nthoughts that were never put into words, feelings \nthat were never expressed, visions of beauty that \nwere never sung, carved, nor painted. There is a \nwoman in this congregation whom I have seen list- \nening to a singer, or to an orchestra, with a face as \nof one transfixed \xe2\x80\x94 who felt it till it gave her pain. \n\nThese illustrations I offer to suggest the vastly \ngreater capacities of our spirits when we get our \nspiritual bodies. In this world some see and hear \nand feel more than others. But we will then all of \nus far surpass our present selves. Then we will see \nclearly "in the white light of eternity" with keener \neyes. All forms of truth will yield up their secrets \nto us; but not all of them \xe2\x80\x94 we will be learning for- \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\n427 \n\n\n\never. Now we have glimpses of things and their \nmeaning; then we will see what rainbows, and flow- \ners, and snow-crystals, and sweet human faces really \nmean. The whole universe will be close to us; we \ncan read it then. Then we can shape our questions \naright; then we can understand the answers which \nwill come to us out of secrets that have been locked \nup since the creation of the worlds. Then we will, \nwith our finer ears, understand the many voices of \nGod in his works. Vs r e will understand the song \nof the seas and the storms, and of all things that \nGod has made. \n\nBut best of all the possibilities of that world, we \nwill be capable of diviner spiritual thought and ex- \nperience. Our susceptibility to divine influence- \xe2\x80\x94 \nto the communion of the blessed Spirit\xe2\x80\x94 will be \nquickened. AYe will begin to understand the char- \nacter of Jesus Christ our Lord and Brother. " We \nwill be like him, for we shall see him as he is." \n\nHow does the doctrine of our text and of this \ndiscussion apply to the future states of the impeni- \ntent and unsaved? They also will have spiritual \nbodies. There will be no bodies in that world that \nmaterial fire can burn; spiritual bodies are not sub- \nject to the laws of combustion. Monstrous fur- \nnaces and broiling flesh \xe2\x80\x94 these are pagan concep- \ntions; they are not in the word of God. \n\nSin is hideous everywhere, but it is most hideous \nin the most nobly gifted. The unsaved, because per- \nsistently impenitent, will when they have their spir- \nitual bodies be capable of greater wickedness, and \ntherefore greater suffering. Suffering follows sin; \n\n\n\n428 \n\n\n\nThe Life to Come. \n\n\n\nhell begins in this world \xe2\x80\x94 it can never end till there \nis an end of sin. Of those whose sins have shut \nthem out of the holy city \xe2\x80\x94 it might be worse for \nthem could they be shut inside of it \xe2\x80\x94 it may be \nsaid of a truth : " Their worm dieth not," and " the \nsmoke of their torment ascendeth forever." \n\nSt. John, in setting forth the blessed doctrine that \nthe redeemed ones, when they enter into their spir- \nitual bodies, shall be like Christ, adds this saying: \n" Whoso hath this hope in him purifieth himself \neven as He is pure." This is our chief business \xe2\x80\x94 \nrightly understood, our only business \xe2\x80\x94 in this world. \nAnd God\'s chief concern about us \xe2\x80\x94 rightly under- \nstood, his only concern \xe2\x80\x94 is to get us ready for our \nspiritual bodies and our immortal duties in the \nworld to come. \n\nWe may conclude, this morning, with St. Paul\'s \nburning words that go before our text: \n\n"We are troubled on every side, yet not dis- \ntressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; per- \nsecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not de- \nstroyed ; always bearing about in the body the dying \nof the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might \n\nbe made manifest in our body For which \n\ncause we faint not; but though our outward man \nperish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. \nFor our light affliction, which is but for a moment, \nworketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal \nweight of glory; while we look not at the things \nwhich are seen, but at the things which are not \nseen; for the things which are seen are temporal, \nbut the things which are not seen are eternal." \n\n\n\nLIBRARY OF CONGRESS ft \n\n\n\n028 310 185 A \n\n\n\n'