$90** 
 
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 PRINCETON, N. J. 4f> 
 
 Shelf. 
 
 
 Division 77rr..7Trr^ 
 
 Section &trj&„ . /. ..!^ 
 
 Number 
 
 i 
 
ISMS 
 
 OLD AN~D NEW 
 
 WINTER SUNDAY EVENING SERMON-SERIES FOR 1880-81 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE FIRST BAPTIST 
 
 CHURCH, CHICAGO 
 
 BY THE PASTOR 
 
 GEORGE C. LORIMER 
 
 MEMBER OF VICTORIA INSTITUTE, THE PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY OP 
 GREAT BRITAIN 
 
 Till at length no heavenly Ism any longer coming down upon us, Isms from 
 
 the other quarter have to mount up. 
 
 Carlyle's "Past and Present " 
 
 CHICAGO 
 S. C. GRIGGS AND COMPANY 
 
 1881 
 
Copyright, 1881, 
 By S. C. GRIGGS & COMPANY. 
 
 I KMIGHT &. LECNARP"."] 
 
TO 
 
 THE FIRST BAPTIST CHURCH, CHICAGO, 
 
 THESE DISCOURSES ARE INSCRIBED 
 
 WITH GRATEFUL MEMORIES OP 
 UNWAVERING AND UNCEASING KINDNESS 
 
 TO THE AUTHOR. 
 
 'My love be with you all in Christ Jesus, Amen. 
 

 While it is preeminently the duty of the pulpit to 
 expound the doctrines and precepts of Holy Writ, there 
 are times when it should confront and challenge the 
 insidious errors which unfit the public mind to receive 
 attentively and believingly its expositions. Exegesis, 
 however eloquent and elaborate, will be as powerless, 
 morally and religiously, as the learned interpretations 
 of dusty Egyptian hieroglyphics, if confidence is seriously 
 impaired in the Divine origin of the Book whose teach- 
 ings it seeks to unfold. The unclean spirit must be 
 cast out, and the house be swept and garnished, before 
 the spirit of truth will find there a welcome and a sure 
 asylum. We invite the wayward to accept Christ and be 
 saved, and when we chide them for not doing so, we fre- 
 quently overlook the fact that they are in sympathy with 
 forms of thought which are irreconcilable with the claims 
 of that volume on whose authority rests the duty so ear- 
 nestly enjoined. Hamilton says, "Plato in his Phaedo 
 demonstrated the immortality of the soul from its sim- 
 plicity; and in the Republic demonstrated its simplicity 
 from its immortality," a species of reasoning still in vogue, 
 and by many highly esteemed, but which is utterly inade- 
 quate to meet the subtle and protean infidelity of our 
 age. Never will its enthusiastic course be arrested, nor 
 its illusions be dispelled, nor the asbestos fire it is kindling- 
 be quenched, and the Gospel achieve its triumph over both 
 head and heart until, abandoning the petitio principii in 
 our methods, we fight the enemy with its own weapons, 
 and prove at least that it is not invulnerable. 
 
 This conviction led to the preparation of the accom- 
 panying sermons. Working for Christ in a community 
 distinguished almost as much by its mental restlessness as 
 by its business activity, the author became convinced if 
 he would promote in the highest sense the religious life of 
 the unconverted in his congregation he must diminish 
 their confidence in certain prevailing errors, and disengage 
 
them from their fetters. His endeavors were so favorably 
 received that he has ventured to seek for his series a 
 wider sphere of usefulness, by giving the discourses to 
 the press. They are not, however, printed precisely as 
 they were delivered. They have been subject to such 
 revision as the cares of an exacting pastorate, enhanced 
 by the labors incident to the formation of a new church 
 and the building of a house of worship, would permit; 
 and they have been increased in number by the addition 
 of several that were not included in the original course, 
 of which the one on Buddhism is a sample, which was 
 preached under a different title soon after the appearance 
 of the beautiful poem which it commends and reviews. 
 
 In dealing with such themes as are presented in this 
 volume, especially within the limits usually prescribed to 
 sermons, an author will find himself frequently baffled by 
 the immeasurableness of the territory he has to traverse, 
 and by the shadowy vagueness of the land he seeks to in- 
 vade. Dr. Johnson has said, " There are objections against 
 a plenum and also against a vacuum, but one or the other 
 must be true." Verily; but how much wearisome think- 
 ing and how much wearisome writing would be needed to 
 answer all these objections, and how much more of both 
 would be required to completely fathom the emptiness of 
 unbelieving speculation, and to vindicate the fullness of 
 Christian truth. This the author of these discourses has 
 keenly felt; and he has done, not the best that could be 
 done, but the best that he could do under the circum- 
 stances. While not attempting an exhaustive treatment 
 of these Isms, he has tried to point out their startling- 
 dissonances, their thought-encircling darkness, and their 
 comfortless, hopeless, soul-freezing tendencies; and he has 
 tried to help his readers to grasp more deeply and feel 
 more intensely those essential doctrines of religion that 
 meet the necessities of our spiritual life, as the celestial 
 poles coincide with the axis of our revolving world. As 
 Lord Byron says in Childe Harold, "what is writ is 
 writ"; and the author can only pray that it may not 
 "die into an echo," but prove a word of hope to many a 
 troubled heart, — a living seed, which, however lowly and 
 insignificant, may not altogether prove either flowerless or 
 leafless. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. 
 
 AGNOSTICISM. 
 
 Or the Impregnability of Ignorance, - - - - 9 
 
 II. 
 
 ATHEISM. 
 
 Or the Superfluousness of Deity, 40 
 
 III. 
 PANTHEISM. 
 
 Or the Deification of the Universe, - - - 62 
 
 IV. 
 
 MATERIALISM. 
 
 Or the Theory of Mindless Mechanism, - - - 82 
 
 V. 
 
 NATURALISM. 
 
 Or the World Without a Sovereign, - - - 101 
 
 VI. 
 
 PESSIMISM. 
 
 Or the Mystery of Human Suffering, - - - 127 
 
 VII. 
 BUDDHISM. 
 Or the Light of Asia and the Light of the 
 
 World, 15G 
 
 vii 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 UNITARIANISM. 
 
 Or the Superhuman Manhood of Christ, - - 182 
 
 IX. 
 
 SPIRITUALISM. 
 
 Or the Modern Necromancy, - - 205 
 
 X. 
 
 SKEPTICISM. 
 Or the Unreasonableness of Doubt, ... - 229 
 
 XI. 
 
 LIBERALISM. 
 
 Or the Limits of Thought-Freedom, .... 250 
 
 XII. 
 
 FORMALISM. 
 
 Or the Relation of Shadow to Substance, - 267 
 
 XIII. 
 
 DENOMINATIONALISM. 
 
 Or Christian Unity in Diversity, - - - - - 284 
 
 XIV. 
 
 MAMMONISM. 
 
 Or the Savageness of Money-Greed, - - - - 303 
 
 XV. 
 
 PAUPERISM. 
 
 Or the Problem of Poverty, ------- 326 
 
 XVI. 
 
 ALTRUISM. 
 
 Or the Law of Self-Sacrifice, ---»-- 345 
 
ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 AGNOSTICISM. 
 
 " To the Unknown God." Acts xmi, 23. 
 
 " And toward me now, the self-same paths I see a pilgrim steer. 
 Halt, wanderer! halt! — and answer me.— What, pilgrim, seek'st 
 thou here? 
 
 To the world's last shore 
 
 I am sailing o'er, 
 Where life lives no longer to anchor alone, 
 And gaze on creation's last boundary stone. 
 Thou sail'st in vain.— Return ! Before thy path, infinity! 
 And thou in vain! — Behind me spreads infinity to thee! 
 
 Fold thy wings, drooping, 
 
 O thought, eagle swooping! 
 Oh, fantasie, anchor! The voyage is o'er: 
 Creation, wild sailor, flows on to no shore! " 
 
 Lyttori > 8 Schiller. 
 
 IN a curious book, called The Rosicrucicms, an Eng- 
 lish peasant is represented as making an important 
 discovery. As he was completing a trench on the close 
 of a long day's work, his pick suddenly struck something 
 hard, which emitted sparks. On examination it proved to 
 be an oblong slab of granite, in the center of which was 
 inserted an iron ring. After considerable labor he re- 
 moved the stone, and found that it covered an entrance 
 leading to subterranean chambers. Although it required 
 no small degree of courage to do so, he determined to 
 descend the rude and broken steps and attempt to pene- 
 
10 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 trate the darkness. Down he clambered, and pressed on 
 until the aperture above him had disappeared and the 
 blackness of night enswathed him. He continued, how- 
 ever, to persevere in his perilous journey, and "at the 
 foot of a steeper staircase of stone he saw a steady 
 though pale light " gleaming. " This was shining as if 
 from a star, or coming from the center of the earth." 
 Naturally enough his alarm increased; but, resolutely 
 hushing the voice of fear, he decided to explore the cave 
 yet farther, and if possible solve the mystery. But as 
 he cautiously felt his way he thought he heard noises 
 as of horses and wagons over his head, which, combined 
 with strange aromas that filled the cavern, heightened 
 his bewilderment and apprehension. Awe stricken as he 
 was, he followed the light, which grew brighter as he 
 advanced, and gradually led him to a large, square built 
 chamber. " Here was a nagged pavement and a some- 
 what lofty roof, in the groins of which was a rose, ex- 
 quisitely carved in dark stone or marble." The place 
 was solemn and gloomy, and great was the surprise of 
 the rustic to see in the chamber the image of a man 
 sitting in a rude chair, intently reading a huge book 
 by the nickering radiance of an ancient lamp suspended 
 from the ceiling. An involuntary cry of astonishment 
 rose to his lips, and, though anxious to retreat, he act- 
 ually took a step forward, and as he did so the figure 
 started bolt upright, as if amazed at his boldness. Its 
 hooded head was reared apparently in angry mood, and 
 it moved as though it would address the intruder. The 
 peasant, with that recklessness which seems to come to 
 the human heart on the approach of danger, was not 
 to be deterred by threatening looks, and therefore he 
 drew nearer and yet nearer to the occupant of the stone- 
 like throne. But as he advanced the hooded form thrust 
 out its long arm and waved an iron baton forbiddingly; 
 
THOUGHT LIMITATIONS. 11 
 
 and then, as if perceiving that the intruder would pre- 
 sumptuously adventure closer, it violently struck the 
 lamp, and amid crashing detonating thunders out went 
 the light. Enwrapped in darkness the brave peasant 
 tremblingly stood, and realized that he had reached a 
 boundary inviolable. He found himself in the abyss of 
 midnight, reflecting, doubtless, on what had taken place, 
 and slowly discerning that the effort to transcend the 
 limits of inquiry had only resulted in distracting disor- 
 der and paralyzing portents. 
 
 Ever since man discovered the door that leads to the 
 mysterious courts of knowledge, he has, lighted by rea- 
 son, steadily pursued his way along tortuous labyrinths 
 intent on possessing truth in its completeness, impatiently 
 exclaiming, with the youth portrayed by Schiller, "What 
 have I if I have not all?" Before him Nature, silent, 
 stern, sublime, holding in its hand an inspired volume — 
 the Bible, — has risen clearly and distinctly before his 
 mental vision. Through the weary course of years, amid 
 the thunderous roar of social and religious revolutions, 
 he has drawn closer and closer to the "Giant Image," 
 "dim gleaming through the hush of the large gloom," 
 and has sought to penetrate its mightiest and deepest 
 secrets. But ever has his impetuous search, "urged 
 by the sharp fever of the wish to know," been baffled, 
 and baffled when success seemed most assured. Triumph 
 has quickly changed into defeat. Evermore has a mys- 
 terious hand warned back the ambitious invader of the 
 Inscrutable, and mute lips have seemed to murmur, "Hith- 
 erto shalt thou come, but no further"; if, however, in 
 blind intrepidity he has disdained the warning, and has 
 continued "to rush in where angels fear to tread," darkness 
 has settled over all his knowledge, and the harmonies of 
 nature and of grace have grown discordant. Many a 
 mind has been beclouded, many a soul has been sad- 
 
12 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 dened, "the sweet serenity of life has fled," and "deep 
 anguish has dug an early grave," through the failure of 
 inquiry to arrest its search at the boundary line of the 
 impenetrable. To this boundary the Rosicrucian tradi- 
 tion points; and wise the man who recognizes its impas- 
 sableness, and content with what of knowledge is attain- 
 able, frets not because beyond the reach of thought the 
 pathless obscure extends. 
 
 Everywhere throughout the universe are limitations 
 manifest. The fire-planets, that in their swift and mazy 
 revolutions seem to sweep at pleasure through the un- 
 shored sea of space, are restrained and curbed, held to 
 particular orbits, from which they never deviate, and be- 
 yond which they cannot circle. Oceans roll and impetu- 
 ously drive their landward waves, and, dashing surgeful 
 waters against nature's rugged barriers, threaten to sub- 
 merge the earth. But all in vain their stormful rage and 
 mad ambition. Ragged, jagged rocks intercept the law- 
 less billows, and proudly disperse their strength in iri- 
 descent spray; and even defenseless sands check their 
 tumultuous advance, and convert their white-capped 
 breakers into idle, crawling, harmless foam. Plants and 
 animals are circumscribed by zones and latitudes, or are 
 so conditioned by some special element, that where one 
 class or order flourishes others sicken, pine and die. 
 Birds for the air, and fish for the water, and both for the 
 narrower sphere within these broad domains to which they 
 are adapted. The bald, grave eagle, around whose iron 
 talons has been bound an iron chain, excites our pity, 
 because he cannot rise on mighty wing to salute the burn- 
 ing splendor of the noon-tide sun. His ignoble fetters 
 fatally curtail his freedom, and his straitened flight is easily 
 surpassed by the ungainly efforts of the humblest fowl. The 
 length of his chain determines the height of his winged 
 ascent. But release him, set him free, and let his strong, 
 
AN AMBITIOUS FISH. 13 
 
 swift pinions bear him far beyond the reach of man, and 
 think you it will even then be possible for him to escape 
 all trammels ? No ; though he soar to the gateway of the 
 morning, he will at last reach a point impassable, and all 
 his efforts to cleave a passage to a region higher than the 
 sustaining air will end in sad defeat. He is, when in the 
 enjoyment of his widest liberty, as truly caged in the cir- 
 cumambient atmosphere as is the silver-voiced canary that 
 impatiently beats against the glittering wires of its little 
 prison-house. Perhaps an ambitious fish of the intellectual 
 order so eloquently described by Dr. Lindsay can be im- 
 agined as fretting that his existence should be bounded by 
 the watery element. He can easily be pictured as com- 
 plaining that his aspiring mind should be " cabined, cribbed 
 and confined" within the narrow limits of sea or lake, 
 when a vast universe stretches out immeasurable beyond. 
 Such a member of the piscatorial family would undoubt- 
 edly contend that it is unfair to hold him captive, and pre- 
 vent his mingling with happier creatures who range the 
 earth according, as he supposes, "to their own sweet 
 will." "Why," he might inquire, "should he be deprived 
 of the fair fields, the fresh flowers, and sublime scenery, 
 which yield untold delight to others?" And after much 
 meditation on the dark problem, we can readily conceive 
 of him as deciding to escape this thralldom, and enlarge 
 indefinitely his sphere of action. Sapient fish! an avenue 
 of escape undoubtedly may be found, and when least ex- 
 pected your hopes of emancipation be completely realized. 
 For instance, an angler's hook promisingly flashes in the 
 water, and if the opportunity is instantaneously improved, 
 the reflective fish, after feeling a sharp sensation in his 
 gill, and a rude, sudden jerk, will find himself — where? 
 Where ? — why here upon the land, gasping for breath, 
 and hearing from irreverent lips the exclamation, "After 
 all, I have only caught a gudgeon." The fisherman is 
 
14 ISMS OLD AtfD NEW. 
 
 right; only a gudgeon would fall into the error of suppos- 
 ing that life can be other than conditioned, or that its 
 happiness and welfare can be promoted by ignoring the 
 restrictions under which it has been placed. 
 
 Like the lower orders of creation, man is hedged in, 
 walled around, and circumscribed. Law touches him on 
 every side, and he can neither breathe nor move, feel nor 
 act, beyond the confines of its kingdom. He can neither 
 see nor hear if but a step too far from the object of sight 
 and the source of sound; and constantly he discovers that 
 his senses are only operative within a narrow and con- 
 tracted circle. Indeed, man is a veritable Robinson 
 Crusoe, "lord of all he surveys," free within certain pre- 
 scribed limits, and yet a captive held within this space- 
 girt island which we call earth. And as he is physically, 
 so is he mentally. His mind, like his engirded body, 
 has a well-defined capacity and sweep, but it is horizoned 
 and rigidly environed. Fancy may roam unfettered and 
 create a universe where it does not find one; but reason is 
 shackled, and its strongly pulsating struggles for emanci- 
 pation are ever baffled and defeated. The Scriptures 
 insist on the comparatively narrow range of man's intel- 
 lectual powers. They declare that there are questions 
 utterly dense and impermeable to his understanding, a 
 region of knowledge whose frontiers he may inspect, but 
 never pass. The deeper mysteries of life and grace these 
 Scriptures undertake to reveal, but never to explain: to 
 make them clear to faith, not comprehensible to reason. 
 "We now see through a glass darkly;" we "cannot find 
 God out to perfection," and neither can we grasp the mean- 
 ing of the glory that awaits us, for, as it is written, " it doth 
 not yet appear what we shall be." When the Almighty 
 in the book of Job is represented as answering the saintly 
 patriarch out of the whirlwind, He affirms that His rela- 
 tion to the universe is unexplorable by mortal man, that 
 
THE THEOLOGICAL ORBIT. 15 
 
 the mystery of the seas is unfathomable, that the dwelling 
 place of light is impenetrable, and the gates of the shadow 
 of death impassable. He inquires of His suffering servant, 
 " Knowest thou it because thou wast then born, or because 
 the number of thy days is great?" To which the answer 
 might have been given in David's inspired words, " Such 
 knowledge is too great for me; it is high, I cannot attain 
 unto it." And thus it follows that what God said to the 
 sea, "Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further, and here 
 shall thy proud waves be stayed," is as applicable to the 
 mind; for thought, especially religious thought, is con- 
 stantly checked by an invisible border-land which it can- 
 not pass, and before which it must inevitably pause. 
 
 The history of theological science fully confirms this 
 doctrine. Its honored masters have continually circled 
 within an orbit of ideas, from whence they have never 
 been able permanently to depart. Eccentric individuals 
 who have desired to rank with theologians, and who have 
 sought applause by advancing radical novelties in the 
 realm of faith, have generally gleamed meteor-like across 
 the ecclesiastical sky, and have gone out at last in the 
 darkness of unbelief, or have been constrained by an 
 uncontrollable something practically to return to the 
 old statements of the deep questions which have per- 
 plexed man's understanding from the beginning. Nei- 
 ther have they, nor others, been able to do more than 
 penetrate the surface of the doctrines concerning infini- 
 tudes, trinities, cosmogonies, redemptions, providences, 
 eternities and immortalities on which their attention has 
 been fixed. They have only disturbed the polish on the 
 marble; they have never yet found a way to the real 
 heart of the texture. Up to a certain point, adventurous 
 inquiries have been successfully urged, but a Divine ap- 
 pointment, like unto that which arrests the proud waves at 
 the sandy coast-line, has uniformly driven them back from 
 
16 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 the borders of the infinite. An impediment, somewhat 
 like to the flaming sword that guarded the entrance to 
 Eden's bowers, seems to protect the heavenly arcanum 
 from too near approach. Consequently theology is frag- 
 mentary, incoherent, not exhaustive and complete; and 
 its dogmatic statements, in comparison with the realities 
 they symbolize, are as a spark to the sun, as an arc to 
 a circle, and as the shrill notes of a tuneless organ to 
 a chorus of angels. The science of Logic also witnesses 
 to the restrictions imposed on thought. It lays down 
 the laws of reasoning, and so clearly defined are all the 
 processes of mental action in investigation and verification 
 that this science has made but little, if any, advance 
 since the days of Aristotle. What Whately, Mill or 
 Hegel has added affects none of the fundamental prin- 
 ciples laid down by him of Stagira; and the unprogress- 
 iveness of these principles proves that our thinking is 
 unchangeably conditioned. And, evidently, these limita- 
 tions are on our faculties, not on the truth; we, not it, are 
 bound. We are forced to think in certain channels, and 
 we are all conscious of meeting the same barriers, at the 
 base of which daring speculative thought may surge a 
 little, but which arrest with painful certitude its advance. 
 But these barriers are within, not without; they reside 
 in man's constitution, not in the nature of things be- 
 yond; they are due to some defect in man's understand- 
 ing, not to the parsimoniousness of truth; they are deter- 
 mined by his character as a creature, not decreed by the 
 jealousy of a Creator. Man is finite, and the truth he 
 seeks is infinite; and the finite, with all its straining, can 
 never compass the infinite. As the shell that is washed 
 by the ocean cannot contain within itself the immensity of 
 waters, as our little earth that is refreshed by the sun can- 
 not hold the vast bulk of the solar world in its bosom, 
 
THE ATHENIAN ALTAE. 17 
 
 so neither can man's measurable capacity grasp and hold 
 immeasurable magnitudes. 
 
 Perhaps in the whole domain of inquiry there is no 
 truth that more fully commands the assent of reason than 
 this, and yet there is none more liable to be perverted. 
 Beginning with limitations which cannot be denied, it is 
 not difficult to push the doctrine to the extreme of Nes- 
 cience in matters of theology. Religious Pyrrhonism or 
 Nihilism has more than once been the outgrowth of legiti- 
 mate endeavors to measure the capabilities of thought, and 
 in this age it is of the gravest moment that nothing should 
 be said or done to encourage so serious a heresy. 
 
 When Paul went to Athens he found there an altar 
 to the Unknown God. With that spiritual intuition which 
 led so many ancient peoples to recognize above their mul- 
 tiplied inferior deities One Supreme Being, these philo- 
 sophical Greeks perceived that the crowds of gods which 
 filled their Pantheon could not account for this wonderful 
 universe, and that there must be One superior to them all 
 unto whom should be rendered homage and praise. The 
 apostle acknowledged their scrupulous devoutness, and 
 when he preached he revealed to them the Being whom 
 they ignorantly worshiped. Mark this. He did not as- 
 sume that they could comprehend the Invisible Mighti- 
 ness, but he did claim that they could knoio Him. Hence 
 the discourse which follows the text, in which the spirit- 
 uality, creatorship, and sovereignty of God are affirmed. 
 
 In our times efforts are being made to rebuild this 
 Athenian altar. A party has arisen on both sides of the 
 Atlantic who, carrying the doctrine of thought limitations 
 to an absurd extreme, maintain very earnestly that it is 
 impossible to know anything of those deep and perplexing 
 subjects which are involved in religion. They admit that 
 there may be a Deity, a spiritual world, and a future life, 
 but at the same time they assure us that we have no 
 2 
 
18 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 means of knowing that there are, and that, being con- 
 stituted as we are, we can never expect to remedy this 
 ignorance. Of course we can guess, wish, and dream 
 indefinitely, but all of our speculations are only like 
 the deceptive mirage, unverifiable and unsatisfying. 
 Theological doctrines are but the shadows of our hopes 
 and fears cast on the curtains of the universe, or the 
 echoes of our own desires which we have been shouting 
 in our folly, and which return to plague us. Man may 
 be compared to a child wandering among the mountains, 
 who in its fear and agony cries aloud on " Father," and 
 hears the name repeated in the distance, and then calls 
 " Father, seek your son," and in return catches the as- 
 suring response, "Son"; and then, with a gleam of joy 
 in the heart, exclaims, in fond anticipation of deliverance, 
 " Home," and backward to him comes the word, as though 
 whispered by angel voices, " Home." But, after all, these 
 are but echoes, and lost indeed would be the child who 
 should heed them. Such, it is claimed, is man's position 
 in the universe. A profound silence reigns around him, 
 and he breaks it with the sound of his own voice, and 
 fancies that its echo is the voice of the Invisible. Nor will 
 he be persuaded of his error, but clings to it, imagining 
 that he knows, when in reality he knows nothing; bab- 
 bling about seeing through a glass darkly, when in fact 
 he cannot see at all; talking of his inability to find out 
 God unto perfection, when actually it is impossible for 
 him to ascertain whether there is such a Being or not. 
 
 This is the creed of the Agnostic, the gospel of " know- 
 nothingism," as it has been recently called, whose altar 
 is reared not only to the Unknown, but to the Unknow- 
 able. Dr. Porter, of Yale College, in an article on Her- 
 bert Spencer, quotes a few verses, which give a fair idea 
 of Agnostic belief, and which also illustrate its explana- 
 tion of religion as it is found among men: 
 
THE AGNOSTICS DOCTRINE. 19 
 
 "At the end of every road there stands a wall, 
 Not built by hands,— impenetrable, bare. 
 Behind it lies an unknown land. And all 
 The paths men plod tend to it, and end there. 
 Each man, according to his humor, paints 
 On that bare wall strange landscapes, dark or bright, 
 Peopled with forms of friends or forms of saints, — 
 Hells of despair or Edens of delight." 
 
 Then the poet describes how the painters call upon 
 their fellows to "tremble or rejoice," as though their 
 pictures were realities, and how indignant they grow when 
 some "sacrilegious hand" wipes off their landscapes and 
 exposes the hard, cold, impenetrable wall. He portrays 
 their anger and excitement at the desecration, and repre- 
 sents them as saying that it were better to have fiends 
 and flames painted by fancy than this bare, blind, and 
 empty obstruction. 
 
 "And straight the old work begins again 
 Of picture-painting And men shout and call 
 For response to their pleasure or pain, 
 Getting back echoes from that painted wall." 
 
 As a fit supplement to this poetic statement hear what 
 Mr. Huxley has to say on man's duty and on the subjects 
 which should engage his attention, and which should oc- 
 cupy his time. Whether he classes himself with avowed 
 agnostics or not, the sentences I quote express their opin- 
 ions very faithfully. In one of his Sunday evening lect- 
 ures to the people he says: "If a man asks me what the 
 politics of the inhabitants of the moon are, and I reply 
 that I do not know, that neither I nor anyone else have 
 any means of knowing, and that under these circumstances 
 I decline to trouble myself about the subject at all, I do 
 not think that he has any right to call me a skeptic. On 
 the contrary, in replying thus I conceive that I am sim- 
 ply honest and truthful, and show a proper regard for 
 the economy of time. So Hume's strong and subtle in- 
 
20 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 tellect takes up a great many problems about which we 
 are naturally curious, and shows us that they are essen- 
 tially questions of lunar politics, in their essence incapable 
 of being answered, and therefore not worth the attention 
 of men who have work to do in the world." Having 
 quoted from Hume a passage where he recommends that 
 volumes of divinity be given to the flames, as containing 
 nothing but sophistry and illusion, Mr. Huxley continues: 
 " Permit me to enforce this most wise advice. Why trouble 
 ourselves about matters of which, however important they 
 may be, we do know nothing and can know nothing? We 
 live in a world which is full of misery and ignorance, and 
 the plain duty of each and all of us is to try to make the 
 little corner he can influence somewhat less miserable and 
 somewhat less ignorant than it was before he entered it. 
 To do this effectually it is necessary to be fully possessed 
 of only two beliefs. The first, that the order of nature 
 is ascertainable by our faculties to an extent which is 
 practically unlimited; the second, that our volition counts 
 for something as the condition of the order of events." 
 (Fortnightly Review, February, 1869.) 
 
 This is Agnosticism, and there are reasons for believing 
 that it is multiplying converts. There is that about it 
 which seems so reverent, so modest, and so humble that 
 it fascinates many minds. And then it deals so sum- 
 marily with perplexities, and chimes in so harmoniously 
 with man's devotion to the things of earth, relieving him 
 of obligation to search for religious truth and to serve 
 its Infinite Author, that it seems to be the real philoso- 
 phy of life, and to be worthy the adoption of the wise 
 and prudent. The temptation is, therefore, great to em- 
 brace it without due reflection, and to overlook the very 
 grave objections which lie against its credibleness. These 
 objections are derived from various sources, and deserve 
 to be fairly weighed before the emptiness of Religious 
 
PROFESSOR TYNDALL'S OPINION. 21 
 
 Nihilism is substituted for the fullness of Christian Faith. 
 A brief examination will abundantly establish their va- 
 lidity, and will conclusively show that this specious Ism is 
 
 Condemned by Science, 
 
 Refuted by Reason, 
 
 Contradicted by Experience, 
 
 Rejected by Revelation, and 
 
 Discredited by Morality. 
 And, surely, the strength and significance of these various 
 protests should be candidly and conscientiously estimated 
 by every one who desires to commit himself only to such 
 opinions as rest on firm foundations. 
 
 The attitude of many leading scientists unquestionably 
 is favorable to the assumptions of Agnosticism. This 
 damaging fact I do not attempt to conceal. Already we 
 have heard from Mr. Huxley, and in the same direction 
 Professor Tyndall has written: "The mind of man may be 
 compared to a musical instrument with a certain range of 
 notes, beyond which in both directions we have an infini- 
 tude of silence. The phenomena of matter and force lie 
 within our intellectual range, and as far as they reach we 
 will at all hazards push our inquiries. But behind and 
 above and around all the real mystery of this universe 
 lies unsolved, and, as far as we are concerned, is incapable 
 of solution." But though scientists frequently indulge in 
 such representations, we are not, therefore, to conclude 
 that they are warranted or approved by science itself. 
 They are far from being scientific. Science tells a differ- 
 ent story. It knows, and otherwise it dare not report, 
 that as much mystery enshrouds "the phenomena of mat- 
 ter and force" as invests what lies behind them, and that 
 our "intellectual range" is no more equal to the complete 
 comprehension of the one than the other. The great 
 preacher, P. Felix, in one of his Notre Dame Conferences 
 impressively inquires, "Who has been able to penetrate 
 
22 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 the secret of the formation of a body, the generation of a 
 single atom ? What is there I will not say at the center 
 of a sun, but at the center of an atom ? Who has sounded 
 to the bottom the abyss in a grain of sand ? The grain of 
 sand, gentlemen, has been studied four thousand years by 
 science; she has turned and re-turned it; she divides it 
 and subdivides it; she torments it with her experiments; 
 she vexes it with her questions, to snatch from it the final 
 word as to its secret constitution; she asks it, with an 
 insatiable curiosity, Shall I divide thee infinitesimally ? 
 Then, suspended over this abyss, science hesitates, she 
 stumbles, she feels dazzled, she becomes dizzy, and in 
 despair says, "I do not know." And, in like manner, who 
 has fathomed the oceanic depths of mystery in a single 
 drop of water ? This question I have often asked myself; 
 I have sought an answer from the books of science, and 
 having heard their dim responses, T have come to believe 
 that there is in this familiar object, which hangs like pearls 
 on grass and flower, which sparkles in the sun, and which 
 sweeps in evening rains and exhales in morning dew, seas 
 of enigmas deep enough to drown the mightiest intellects. 
 Thought has sailed over it for thousands of years, but no 
 coast-line has ever yet been reached, and no bottom has 
 ever yet been found. We easily express its constituent 
 elements, and yet we are far from realizing the terrible 
 forces that are contained and that slumber in its bosom. 
 Were these suddenly set free, they would devastate with 
 the fury of a midnight tempest, and would startle us with 
 the wild evidences of their Titanic power. As Faraday has 
 shown, the energy of 800,000 charges of the Leyden bat- 
 tery is lodged in a drop of water, sufficient to produce an 
 effect equal to a stroke of lightning. But can a Faraday 
 explain this tremendous and overwhelming wonder ? Can 
 any mind find it out unto perfection? No; inquire as we 
 may, we must still confess our ignorance. Oceans are 
 
HEAVENLY MAGNITUDES. 23 
 
 necessary to engulf our ships, but a drop of water seems 
 all-sufficient to engulf our reason. 
 
 But if an atom is as a trackless continent and a water- 
 drop as an unnavigable sea, what shall we say to the 
 majesty of the universe ? We boastingly parade our in- 
 tellectual conquests over nature, and yet, if we have not 
 subdued an atom, how insignificant must be our knowl- 
 edge of the heavens! We have above us gleaming a 
 world — the sun — containing in its mass a volume of sub- 
 stance larger than that which composes the bulk of the 
 united worlds in the center of whose mighty circle it spins 
 and shines. Astronomers have proven that it is one mill- 
 ion three hundred thousand times vaster than the globe; 
 and that three hundred years would be needed to circum- 
 navigate it, while three years would suffice, at the same 
 rate of speed, to voyage around this petty terraqueous 
 ball. Its heat, and the terrific energy of its heat, scien- 
 tists have in vain tried to measure. They have never yet 
 been able to convey to the mind a comprehensible idea of 
 this tremendous force. The column of ice fifty-four miles 
 in diameter, propelled at a rate of two hundred and ten 
 thousand miles per minute, which Herschel figures would 
 be needful to perceptibly diminish its intensity; or the 
 comparison of Tyndall, that the heat of the sun every 
 hour is equal to the combustion of nearly seven leagues 
 thick of coal, distributed over an area as vast as its own 
 surface, stimulates the imagination, but only astounds and 
 prostrates the reason. Then beyond our solar system 
 there are glowing orbs, and solitudes of unpeopled space, 
 processions of nebulas, unkindled suns, and embryo stars, 
 moving at different rates of velocity and in various direc- 
 tions, in comparison with which the solar system is as 
 the dew-drops pendent from the flower that lifts its tiny 
 head on the vast ocean's verge. Sir William Herschel, in 
 the eighteenth century, from the Cape of Good Hope, un- 
 
24 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 dertook with the aid of his gigantic telescope to count the 
 stars in the Milky Way, and as the result of his investiga- 
 tions arrived at a totality of more than eighteen million 
 suns. Yet even this is only an inconsiderable fraction of 
 the unnumbered worlds which, bound by ties and sweet 
 affinities, roll harmoniously in the ether-depths throughout 
 the immensity of creation, whose fathomless tides seem 
 "to flow on to no shore." Who has ever had steadiness 
 of mind sufficient to follow their mazy courses, and who 
 has been able to comprehend the unity which pervades 
 the whole? Light, traveling two hundred miles a sec- 
 ond, takes thousands of years to reach our planet from 
 some of the cresset lamps that gleam in heaven. Venus is 
 27,000,000 miles from the sun; the nearest fixed star is 
 20,000,000,000 miles distant from the earth; and deserts 
 of creation doubtless separate such worlds remote from 
 the confines of yet remoter systems. But who is there 
 that really understands what these prodigious distances 
 and spaces signify ? We represent them to the eye in 
 figures, but no mind is capable of forming a just con- 
 ception of their exhaustless meaning. They exceed the 
 power of thought, as gravitation, about which we speak so 
 glibly, baffles the scrutiny of the keenest intellect. An 
 eminent French savant has well said on this point, "We 
 know that bodies approach each other in the ratio of 
 their masses, and in inverse ratio of the square of their 
 distances; but why do they approach each other? This is 
 what we do not know, and what we probably never shall 
 know." ..." As to the real cause which makes 
 small bodies to rush toward greater ones, and the little 
 stars to revolve around the larger, it is, we repeat, a mys- 
 tery that cannot be penetrated by mortals." And thus 
 science itself comes to a standstill at the border-land, and 
 is incompetent to explain the wonders it proclaims ; and 
 shall we then for one moment suppose, when the subjects 
 
TTTE PHENOMENA OF NATURK. 25 
 
 of inquiry are theological, that science will presume to 
 say that the affirmation of mystery becomes the negation 
 of knowledge ? If it should do so, it would simply invali- 
 date its own teachings; for if thought-limitations in one 
 direction are held to prove the certitude of incertitude, 
 logically they must do so in the other. And thus, accord- 
 ing to such reasoning, Nescience in religion leads by a 
 logical necessity to Pyrrhonism in science. As has been 
 said by M. Royer-Collard, " we cannot assign a part only 
 to skepticism; as soon as skepticism once penetrates into 
 the understanding, it invades it throughout." 
 
 Professor Tyndall admits that the phenomena of matter 
 and force are within our intellectual range, but denies that 
 by them we can invade the intrenched secret of the uni- 
 verse that lies beyond. If he means that we cannot " find 
 God out unto perfection" through the operations of nature, 
 we have no controversy with him; but if he means that we 
 cannot by such endeavors arrive at a real, though partial, 
 knowledge of the Divine existence, we modestly but ear- 
 nestly dissent from his position. Newton has said, " It no 
 doubt belongs to natural philosophy to inquire concerning 
 God from the observation of phenomena," and there is no 
 good reason for doubting the soundness of his conclusion. 
 The contrary assumption is so one-sided, so destitute of 
 analogy, so foreign to the judgment of mankind, creating 
 so wide and so arbitrary a distinction between the domain 
 of matter and of mind, that it borders on the irrational. 
 Common sense argues that, as everyone admits we can 
 become acquainted with the laws governing physical phe- 
 nomena by the study of the phenomena themselves, there 
 is no sufficient reason to doubt that we can in the same 
 manner arrive at certain reliable conclusions regarding the 
 Divine existence and man's immortality. The laws that 
 govern the various operations of nature can be known, 
 though they are unseen; and though they may not be 
 
26 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 thoroughly understood, our information concerning them 
 is looked upon as absolutely trustworthy. But physical 
 phenomena lead us back to Cause as well as to law, and 
 to a Cause adequate to accomplish what is perceived; and 
 as in the phenomena mind is apparent, we may with the 
 same degree of certainty believe that it is in the Cause as 
 we believe, on precisely the same evidence, that law is, and 
 that it answers to such or such a formula. If the reason- 
 ing in the one case is sound it is in the other, and if it is 
 not in either, then we are incapable of verifying anything. 
 On the one side, by the knowledge of phenomena we rise 
 to the knowledge of law; on the other, by the same means 
 we rise to the knowledge of Cause, and to a Cause which, 
 comprehending in itself potentially the complex and prac- 
 tically measureless wonders of creation, we cannot but call 
 God. But if it is said that such a Being cannot be clearly 
 apprehended or distinctly defined, common sense replies 
 that the limitations of mind account for this comparative 
 failure, but that the inability is paralleled by the diffi- 
 culty experienced in understanding fully the precise char- 
 acter of a law, say such as gravitation, and of formulating 
 it intelligibly. The dew-drop that faithfully reflects the 
 sun, gives but a meager idea of its majesty. But in addi- 
 tion to this, common sense protests against the exclusive 
 attention to the physical and the disregard for the spiritual 
 which Professors Tyndall and Huxley manifest. It insists 
 that the phenomena of soul are as worthy of consideration 
 as those of matter. Mind is an essential part of the uni- 
 verse, and no system can be sound which ignores it. If it 
 is scrutinized and catechized, it responds in no doubtful 
 terms to the reality of God and the immortality of man. 
 On this internal testimony an unanswerable argument has 
 frequently been reared. The universal consciousness is 
 against Agnosticism, and the only question in debate is 
 whether its testimony is reliable. Why should it be 
 
THE protest of reason. 27 
 
 thought otherwise ? If we can with safety build on the 
 physical, why not on the psychical ? They are parts of the 
 same system of things. For all we know, the latter may 
 even be more trustworthy than the former, and unques- 
 tionably it challenges as much attention. But if it is not 
 to be treated as a faithful witness when it testifies to 
 God's existence and to man's immortality, what confidence 
 can be placed in any of its processes, without which we 
 would be unable to ascertain anything, conceive or sub- 
 stantiate anything, either physical or spiritual ? It is a 
 necessity of science, as well as of religion, that the trust- 
 worthiness of mind be admitted. If it is not, then every- 
 thing is uncertain; if it is, then its testimony to the super- 
 sensuous, the superhuman and divine is conclusive and 
 unimpeachable. 
 
 We have thus shown that science, fairly interrogated, 
 condemns the ism we are reviewing, and we are now pre- 
 pared to weigh what reason has to suggest in the same 
 direction. The Agnostic is essentially metaphysical. His 
 stronghold is in cloudland, and his logical defenses are ab- 
 stract, involved, subtle and tortuous. He speaks the lan- 
 guage of Sir William Hamilton's Lectures, of Dean Han- 
 sel's Limits of Religious Thoughts, and of Herbert 
 Spencer's voluminous revelations regarding the Unknow- 
 able. To him the fundamental conceptions of theology 
 are unthinkable and self-destructive, and he triumphantly 
 asks, "How can Infinite Power be able to do all things, 
 and Infinite Goodness be unable to do evil? How can 
 Infinite Justice exact the utmost penalty for every sin, 
 and Infinite Mercy pardon the sinner? How can Infinite 
 Wisdom know all things, and Infinite Freedom be at lib- 
 erty to do or to forbear? How is the existence of evil 
 compatible with that of an Infinitely Perfect Being ? For 
 if He wills it, He is not infinitely good; and if He wills 
 it not, His will is thwarted and His sphere of action lim- 
 
28 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ited." He further insists that the Infinite or the Abso- 
 lute is inconceivable: "There is contradiction in suppos- 
 ing such an object to exist, either alone or with others, 
 and in supposing it not to exist; in conceiving it as one 
 and as many, as personal and as impersonal, as active and 
 as inactive, as the sum of all existence and as a part only 
 of that sum," and, consequently, we find him sententiously 
 affirming with Herbert Spencer that this is the "deepest, 
 widest, and most certain of all facts, that the Power the 
 universe manifests to us is utterly inscrutable." 
 
 Reason is not satisfied with these representations, and 
 is far from consenting; to the conclusion. Following in 
 substance Mr. Mill's line of argument, it claims that while 
 we may not have an adequate conception of the Infinite, 
 we may be able to form a very real conception, and it 
 illustrates this distinction by a passage from Mr. Mill's 
 Examination of Sir W. Hamilton's Philosopliy, in which 
 he says, "Let us try the doctrine on a complex whole, 
 short of infinite, such as the number 005,788. Sir W. H. 
 would not, I suppose, maintain that this number is incon- 
 ceivable. How long does he think it would take to go 
 over every separate unit of this whole, so as to obtain a 
 perfect knowledge of that exact sum, as different from 
 all others, greater or less ? Would he say that we can 
 have no conception of the sum till this process is gone 
 through ? We could not, indeed, have an adequate con- 
 ception. Accordingly, we never have an adequate concep- 
 tion of any real thing. But we have a real conception, if 
 we can conceive it by any of its attributes which are suffi- 
 cient to distinguish it from all other things. ... If, then, 
 we can obtain a real conception of a finite whole, without 
 going through all its component parts, why deny us the 
 conception of an infinite whole because to go through 
 them all is impossible ? . . . Between a conception which, 
 though inadequate, is real as far as it goes, and the 
 
KNOWING THE INFINITE. 29 
 
 impossibility of any conception, there is a wide differ- 
 ence." Moreover, reason discerns in the doctrine of the 
 Unknowable a grave inconsistency. Having expressly 
 denied that the Infinite can be a subject of thought, it 
 goes to work to show why it is unthinkable, and in doing 
 so it quietly assumes certain things to be true of it which, 
 according to its principal proposition, it has no possible 
 means of verifying. If the Infinite is unknowable, how 
 can the Agnostic prove that this or that idea is inhar- 
 monious with it ? As it is, he proceeds on the supposition 
 that he knows it for the purpose of obtaining the evidence 
 that it is unknowable. 
 
 Mr. Mill has clearly brought out the fact that the Ag- 
 nostic conjures up "a conception of something which 
 possesses infinitely all conflicting attributes," and be- 
 cause this cannot be done without contradiction, "he 
 would have us believe that there is contradiction in the 
 idea of Infinite Goodness or Infinite Wisdom," on which 
 piece of metaphysical insincerity Mr. Mill comments in 
 these terms: "Instead of 'the Infinite' substitute an 'In- 
 finitely Good Being,' and the argument reads thus: If 
 there is anything which an infinitely good Being cannot 
 become, if He cannot become bad, there is a limitation, 
 and the goodness cannot be infinite. If there is anything 
 which He is, namely, good, He is excluded from being any 
 other thing, as from being wise or powerful." Having 
 pointed out these absurdities he declares that these con- 
 tradictions are not involved in the notion of the Infinite, 
 "but lie in the definitions," definitions which have been 
 expressly manufactured for the sole purpose of proving 
 that nothing can be known of the Supreme Ruler of the 
 universe. But after all that has been done in this direc- 
 tion success has not followed, for, as Professor Birks has 
 exhaustively shown in his admirable treatise on Physical 
 Fatalism, a work to which I gladly acknowledge my 
 
30 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 indebtedness, the very terms employed to express the un- 
 knowableness of the unknown convey an important and 
 large amount of knowledge. Thus from the various 
 ideas and positions of its advocates, already quoted, we 
 learn that God is absolute not derived, infinite not 
 finite, manifest in nature not hidden, distinct from His 
 works not identified with them, omnipotent not impo- 
 tent, and One not manifold. This is a good deal of in- 
 formation for a theory, which sets out to demonstrate 
 that the Almighty is absolutely inscrutable, to afford hu- 
 manity struggling to obtain light. We really are in- 
 debted. By these concessions, involved in the mazy and 
 hazy statements of the Agnostic, reason perceives that his 
 doctrine is untenable, and that he is confirming, though 
 unwillingly, the positive declaration of Paul : " For the 
 invisible things of Him from the creation of the world 
 are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are 
 made, even His eternal power and Godhead." 
 
 But if reason refutes, experience contradicts Agnosti- 
 cism. When its supporters assert that nothing spiritual 
 can be known, they are merely judging mankind by them- 
 selves. Because they themselves are in the gulf of night, 
 they conclude that everybody is in the same unhappy con- 
 dition. But if a few persons living inland should contend 
 that the ocean does not exist because they have not seen 
 it, would we be willing to allow that it is unseeable, espe- 
 cially when thousands testify that their eyes have rested 
 on its grandeur? No; we would answer that the pri- 
 vation of some cannot be weighed against the positive 
 observation of others. Though a hundred persons should 
 deny that President Lincoln was assassinated because they 
 were not present to witness the tragical event, the testi- 
 mony of half a dozen who were on the spot would be 
 sufficient to prove its occurrence. Well, all the Agnostics 
 in the world cannot invalidate the experience of a few 
 
THE EVIDENCE OF EXPERIENCE. 31 
 
 Christians. All they can say is that they do not know, 
 and that is worthless by the side of the " I do know " 
 of Christ's disciples. His followers have communed with 
 God, have conversed with him. They have realized the 
 grandeur of responsibility, the awfulness of sin, and the 
 sweetness of pardon, and they can therefore speak with 
 authority. If it shall be said that they are self-deceived, 
 then we are modestly asked to believe that all the world 
 is deluded, with the exception of a few individuals who 
 are evidently infatuated with the charms of ignorance. 
 But is this reasonable ? Why may not the few be 
 deceived by their prejudices instead of the many be duped 
 by their fancies? We do not deny that what we have 
 felt may be but as the shadows described in Plato's lle- 
 2)ubllc, which were seen by the captives in the subter- 
 ranean cave when their back was turned toward the light, 
 but shadows are ever cast by substantial objects, and 
 proclaim reality. The reflection of the mountains in the 
 water attests their existence and their vastness, and 
 thus our experiences, though but as faint images of 
 the Infinite, of eternity, of immortality, witness to sub- 
 lime and imperishable correspondences. But there is 
 another answer to this supposition. As has been elab- 
 orately stated by a New England author, religious truth 
 is not above experiment. If you would know for your- 
 self whether there is a God, or whether He can be com- 
 muned with, and whether He can come into the soul, 
 comply with the conditions revealed in the Bible, and 
 you shall have the evidence in yourselves. Put away 
 wrong doing, call upon God's name, beseech Him to 
 verify His own being and your own immortality, sin- 
 cerely desire to discover the truth, and I have no doubt 
 but that the answer will be such that you and Agnos- 
 ticism will part company forever. Dr. Walker, in the 
 Observer, eloquently points out the grounds of this duty, 
 
32 ISMS OLD A.ND NEW. 
 
 and enforces it in a manner so masterly that I cannot re- 
 frain from quoting his words. He says: 
 
 "Man finds himself with a religious nature, the spon- 
 taneous and normal exercise of which is reverence, adora- 
 tion, obedience to a Power above himself. Here are sub- 
 jective conditions, which imply objective truths corre- 
 sponding. As is the case with all other parts of his 
 nature, these are not purposeless. They prompt to the 
 investigation of that which they demand and to which 
 they are related, — truths about God, in the universe of 
 mind and of matter, discovered, certified, reduced to sys- 
 tem, rendered into theology. These truths are those of 
 the Divine personality, His character, His dealings espe- 
 cially with man, endowed with a nature which craves to 
 know and honor Him. Why should man refuse to seek 
 Him here as well as elsewhere? Is it the really scientific 
 spirit which dictates such a course? Is it not mere ca- 
 price not only to decline investigation of these phe- 
 nomena objective to the religious nature, and demanded 
 by it, but to insist beforehand that such investigation, if 
 made, is not and cannot be scientific? Such course, in 
 reference to anything but religious truth, would not for 
 an instant be tolerated. But here we are met by the 
 objection of mystery. What is its pertinence? It is 
 never offered in connection with other sciences. They all 
 involve mystery, rest upon it, and are surrounded by it. 
 What is matter? What is life? What is mind? What 
 is spirit? ' Omnia exeunt in mysterium? No one, on the 
 score of mystery, declines scientific investigation, or de- 
 nies its possibility in any of these spheres of knowledge. 
 It is only as men see or fear that they will encounter 
 God in His claims, that such objections are offered. They 
 do not like to retain God in their knowledge, and thus 
 their effort is to make out that He cannot be known." 
 
 The allusion to the Bible in the foregoing paragraph 
 
THE BIBLE. 33 
 
 leads us naturally to our next position. Revelation re- 
 jects in toto the senseless theory of religious Nihilism. 
 Suppose that we concede to the Agnostic that the limita- 
 tions of thought are such that it is impossible for man to 
 arrive at the knowledge of God or of his own destiny, 
 does that preclude the possibility of its coming to him 
 in some other way? May not that which is undiscoverable 
 be revealed ? Or, in other words, if man's capacity is as 
 narrow and weak as Agnosticism claims, does it prove the 
 unattainableness of religious knowledge, or does it mere- 
 ly indicate that an inspired Revelation is indispensable? 
 Certainly it can never establish the former as long as the 
 latter is possible. And that it is possible the belief of 
 many millions that it is actual abundantly sustains. 
 Everywhere we hear of sacred books, attributed to divine 
 interposition, and whether only one is true, or all are alike 
 false, they express the common conviction that the Al- 
 mighty can communicate with His creatures. The ideas 
 which fill mind and heart regarding the Supreme, the na- 
 ture of obligation, and the eternity of the soul, may have 
 been derived from this source by immediate and personal 
 illumination, or by the inspired enlightenment of chosen 
 men. We know, however, that the ideas are here; how 
 they came may be open to debate, but that they have not 
 been received from God is beyond the power of man to 
 prove. Whether any existing revelation is in reality of 
 Divine origin cannot be discussed here, nor is it needful, 
 for our present aim is simply to show that, though man's 
 resources be inadequate to meet his spiritual necessities, 
 it cannot with reason be affirmed that religious knowledge 
 is beyond his reach when it may be received from above. 
 Agnosticism at the worst only establishes the necessity 
 for a heavenly revelation, and the more fully it makes 
 manifest our helplessness the more clearly it brings out 
 the probability that it has been conferred. For if we 
 3 
 
34 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 are thus incapable, and if we feel so deep a yearning for 
 light — and that we do no one can deny — that we are 
 led to seek it by a native impulse, our highest welfare 
 must be interwoven with it, and just in proportion as 
 this is true must the probability be increased that the 
 Being who has provided so liberally for all our other 
 wants has not forgotten to bestow this last and indis- 
 pensable boon. 
 
 Herbert Spencer, in his Philosophy ', expresses the opin- 
 ion " that the knowledge within our reach is the only 
 knowledge that can be of service to us"; and it seems to 
 me the right word to say in this connection, for in judg- 
 ing the claims of any sacred book we should examine 
 whether its teachings are especially available for the moral 
 exigencies of life, or whether they are fitted merely to 
 gratify a prurient curiosity. The ship-master does not 
 need accurate views regarding the origin or formation of 
 the universe to safely navigate a vessel across stormy seas. 
 Professional practicalities are of more importance to him. 
 If he knows the tides, their strength and their seasons; if 
 he is instructed in the use of the compass, its deflections 
 and variations; if he understands taking the sun, and even 
 how to steer without it, and if he is familiar with the capa- 
 bilities of his ship, his ignorance of the true cosmogony 
 would not disqualify him for command. The mason 
 builds without knowing the plan of the architect, the sol- 
 dier fights without inquiring into the designs of the gen- 
 eral, the laborer in the factory pursues his task on the 
 ninth part of a pin, and never pauses to investigate his 
 brothers' work, or to demand from his employer a detailed 
 account of the contracts which he is fulfilling. We all 
 thus work on partial knowledge, and work efficiently. 
 Thorough and exhaustive comprehension of everything 
 connected with our daily callings none of us have, and 
 neither is it necessary to success. It seems, then, reason- 
 
SUFFICIENT LIGHT. 35 
 
 able to infer that a Revelation from God would deal more 
 directly with the moral and spiritual practicalities than in 
 elaborate expositions of deep truths, which, however glo- 
 rious in themselves, would be comparatively of secondary 
 value in their bearing upon life. And this is precisely the 
 principle which determines the character of the sacred 
 Scriptures. While they announce abysmal mysteries, they 
 leave them mysteries; and partly, perhaps, because the 
 intellect could not grasp their clearest elucidation now, 
 and partly because another class of truths is of more im- 
 mediate service, they devote a large portion of their con- 
 tents to such matters as lead to human regeneration, 
 elevation and salvation. Upon such points they are ade- 
 quate and complete. We, therefore, have in these inspired 
 writings all the knowledge necessary both for life and 
 godliness. We have enough both for faith and practice, 
 and unless we are prepared to ignore the probabilities 
 which so strongly point to the reasonableness of a super- 
 natural revelation, we need not inhabit tombs nor grope 
 in darkness, and despairingly cry that we know not our 
 duty either to God or man. Here it is made manifest, 
 and made manifest in such a way that it is unobscured 
 and unaffected by the unexplorable truths with which it 
 is associated. Though clouds and darkness still enshroud 
 God's throne, sufficient light has fallen on our path to 
 make clear the road to heaven. There is no position we 
 occupy, no relationship we sustain, no serious issue we 
 have to meet, concerning which we may not, if we will, 
 obtain the fullest information; neither is there any honest 
 doubt, springing from a troubled conscience, that has not 
 its antidote in the affluent provisions of Divine grace. If 
 you would know how to approach and honor your Crea- 
 tor; if you would realize the claims of Christ upon your 
 faith and love; if you would learn how to fulfill your obli- 
 gations as parent, child, citizen, or friend, and if you 
 
36 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 would understand how to live and die triumphantly, you 
 have but to consult the sacred volume, whose pages glow 
 with simplest wisdom and with safest counsels. The 
 Bible may be reticent where you would be pleased to 
 have it voluble, it may be tongueless where you would 
 have it eloquent, and obscure where you would have it 
 clear; but though it may conceal many things from your 
 too curious eyes, and refuse to lay bare either the secrets 
 of a past or of a future eternity, what reason have you for 
 complaint if it has made manifest the range and scope of 
 present duty? This much at least it has done; and for 
 the way in which you deal with the Heaven-given light — 
 call it twilight if you will — which it has shed upon your 
 path, will you have to render an account to God, not for 
 the darkness which it has left undisturbed, and which all 
 your intellectual power never can dispel. 
 
 Finally, morality discredits Agnosticism; for its inter- 
 ests are jeopardized by a doctrine that condemns mankind 
 to total ignorance on matters of individual and social 
 obligation, and forbids them to recognize a moral gov- 
 ernor of the world. On this point Mr. Mill, in the work 
 already alluded to, testifies, and certainly he is no par- 
 tial witness: "My opinion of this doctrine (namely, that 
 nothing can be known or understood of moral attributes 
 in a Supreme Being), in whatever way presented, is that 
 it is simply the most morally pernicious doctrine now 
 current, and that the question it involves is, beyond all 
 others which now engage speculative minds, the decisive 
 one between good and evil for the Christian world." This 
 can easily be demonstrated by the effect of this Ism on 
 society. When it declares religious knowledge to be 
 unattainable, it, of course, anticipates the formation of 
 communities where it will be entirely ignored. Absolute 
 secularism is already recommended, and the extract quoted 
 from Mr. Huxley places him on the side of those who 
 
SECULARISM. 37 
 
 deem it desirable. He would have us care for our fellow- 
 beings, would have us try to alleviate their sorrows, and 
 diminish their ignorance. But it is legitimate to ask by 
 what motives shall philanthropy be sustained and inspired 
 when Agnosticism triumphs ? It will then be impossible to 
 prove that it is even a duty, and will be beyond the ability 
 of man to show that it would not, on the whole, be better 
 just to let the unfortunate classes perish as rapidly as pos- 
 sible. Carried to its logical consequences, this theory does 
 not even offer any encouragement to education ; for why, 
 if there is no divine law imposing such obligation on us, 
 should we trouble ourselves about others at all, and why 
 lavish so much care on those who cannot make much prog- 
 ress in this life, and who can never reap any benefit from 
 it in a life to come ? Proposals to organize society on a 
 Godless basis have always been looked on with suspicion, 
 and indeed every effort in that direction has been fraught 
 with evil. It has been proven, where the attempt has been 
 made, that it is impossible to foster reverence for law, to 
 cultivate a due sense of responsibility, to conserve safety, 
 and property, and to promote purity and peace, apart from 
 the recognition of the Almighty, His supremacy, and 
 man's immortality. Many infidels have recognized this, 
 and among them one whom we would least suspect of 
 entertaining such sentiments. Thomas Paine has left on 
 record his conviction that stable and wholesome govern- 
 ment must rest on Divine truth. When, in his book enti- 
 tled Common /Sense, he is answering those who expected 
 the speedy destruction of order in these States because 
 monarchy was overthrown, he says: " Let a day be sol- 
 emnly set apart for proclaiming the charter ; let it be 
 brought forth, placed on the Divine law, the Word of 
 God; let a crown be placed thereon, by which the world 
 may know that so far as we approve of monarchy, that in 
 America the Law is king." [P. 47.] That is, human 
 
38 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 law must rest on the Divine for it to be clothed with 
 authority and secure to the citizen the blessings of good 
 government. But this foundation Agnosticism sweeps 
 away, and we therefore feel warranted in concluding that 
 it must be radically defective and undeserving of confi- 
 dence. And here ends my argument. 
 
 Man's mind is limited, but it is not powerless; it has 
 its zenith and its nadir, but its periphery is neither 
 meager nor contracted; it is circumscribed in its range, 
 but it is neither wingless nor footless. It may not be 
 able to circumnavigate infinity, nor "gaze on creation's 
 last boundary stone," but it can sail on its seas and 
 know that its floods stretch limitless around. It may not 
 be able to fathom the abyss of mystery that there is in an 
 atom, nor lay bare the secret hidden in the humblest 
 seed; but it can measure them both, and know in part, if 
 not altogether. With becoming modesty may it acknowl- 
 edge its inability to comprehend the Author of its being, 
 or to find out His plans and purposes to perfection ; but 
 though it confess that it cannot do everything, it would 
 be absurd to assume that it cannot do anything. It can 
 know God, and learn of God, though it has no terms by 
 which to explain Him; it can think of Him as Absolute, as 
 Infinite, as Personal, while it may never in this life be able 
 to fathom the full meaning of these sublime ideas. At 
 present the mind has sufficient capacity to know the Cre- 
 ator, that He is, what — in part at least — He is, what He 
 commands and what He reveals. Sufficient for present 
 duties, present hopes, whether for time or eternity, can be 
 acquired. And happy the man who improves the light he 
 has. By and by, in the world to come, the veil on the 
 mind shall be rent, the channels of thought be widened 
 and deepened, and the soul's pinions be immeasurably 
 strengthened, and then shall man comprehend the height, 
 
dryden's gratitude. 39 
 
 depth and breadth of that which here and now passeth 
 understanding. 
 
 "O gracious God! how well dost Thou provide 
 
 For erring judgments an unerring guide! 
 
 Thy throne is darkness in the abyss of night, 
 
 A blaze of glory that forbids the sight. 
 
 Oh, teach me to believe Thee thus concealed, 
 
 And search no further than Thyself revealed; 
 
 But her alone for my director take 
 
 Whom Thou hast promised never to forsake ! 
 • My thoughtless youth was winged with vain desires ; 
 
 My manhood, long misled by wandering tires, 
 
 Followed false lights, and when their glimpse was gone 
 
 My pride struck out new sparkles of her own. 
 
 Such was I, such by nature still I am ; 
 
 Be Thine the glory and be mine the shame! 
 
 Good life be now my task ; my doubts are done." 
 
ATHEISM. 
 
 " In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth." Gen. i, 1. 
 
 " Heaven's unnumbered host, 
 Though multiplied by myriads, and arrayed 
 In that glory of sublimest thought, 
 Is but an atom in the balance weighed 
 Against Thy greatness — is a cypher brought 
 Against infinity! 
 
 I am, O God, and surely Thou must be ! 
 Thou art! — directing, guiding all, Thou art! 
 Direct my understanding, then, to Thee; 
 Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart." 
 
 Russian Ode, by Derzhavm. 
 
 THE way-worn traveler will gladly drink from the cool, 
 clear, sparkling torrent that breaks from lofty and sol- 
 itary rocky fastnesses, and rolls tumultuously over somber 
 precipice and along jagged channel to the dusty plains, 
 though its source may be hidden from his curious eyes, 
 and forever remain inaccessible to his adventurous feet; 
 and truth's mountain-stream should ever be as welcome to 
 earth's weary thinkers, however hidden its springs may be 
 in heights unapproachable, and in depths unfathomable. 
 
 If venerable tradition, chronicled by the Koran, re- 
 peated by Stanley, and rehearsed by Clodd, is to be 
 credited, thus was truth, — the grandest, mightiest, and 
 most mysterious, — welcomed by Him who is honored by 
 Moslem, Jew and Christian as the Father of the Faithful. 
 Born in Ur of the Chaldees, on the verge of the vast 
 Assyrian plains, which for ages had been the seat of idol- 
 atrous sun-worship, Abraham turned from a system, cus- 
 tom-sanctioned and convention-hallowed, to embrace a 
 
 40 
 
AN ABRAHAMIC LEGEND. 41 
 
 simpler and a purer faith. The mythical story of his con- 
 version is not without beauty and instructiveness. It 
 represents Terah, his father, as a maker of wooden idols; 
 and shows how the son's antagonism to the corruption of 
 religion, which the business symbolized, developed and 
 culminated. Being left one day in charge of the stock 
 in trade, Abraham was profoundly impressed at the folly 
 and superstition of a woman, who devoutly brought food 
 to satisfy the hunger of things which, though they had 
 mouths, could not eat, and which were as unable to appre- 
 ciate gifts as they were to appropriate them. But his in- 
 dignation grew fiercer, and his views of duty clearer, when 
 an aged man entered his tent and desired to purchase of 
 his wares. 
 
 "How old art thou?" 
 
 "Threescore years." 
 
 "What, threescore years!" answered Abraham, "and 
 thou wouldst worship a thing that my father's slaves made 
 in a few hours? Strange that a man of sixty should bow 
 his gray head to a creature such as that." 
 
 Unable longer to restrain his scorn, and reason asserting 
 its sovereignty over conflicting doubts, after the departure 
 of his would-be customer he broke all the idols to pieces 
 except one. The largest one he spared, and placed in its 
 hands the hammer which had served him in his icono- 
 clasm. When Terah returned he was filled with horror and 
 consternation at the work of destruction which he beheld, 
 and angrily demanded the name of the irreverent wretch 
 who had dared to raise his impious arm against the gods. 
 
 "Why," quietly replied the then youthful patriarch, 
 "during thine absence a woman brought them food, and 
 the younger and smaller ones immediately began to eat. 
 The older and stronger god, enraged at their unmannerly 
 boldness, took the hammer which you see in his hands, and 
 crushed them all before him." 
 
42 ISMS OLD AND KEWo 
 
 "Dost thou deride thine aged father?" cried Terah. 
 " Do I not know that they can neither move nor eat ? " 
 
 "And yet thou worshipest them," exclaimed Abraham; 
 "and thou wouldst have me worship them as well." 
 
 This rebuke was too much for the outraged parent, and 
 consequently, according to the legend, he sent the way- 
 ward youth to the king for admonition and correction. 
 When Nimrod heard the account of his infidelity and 
 impiety, instead of condemning him hastily and harshly 
 he sought to win him to some form of faith. 
 
 "If thou canst not adore the idols fashioned by thy 
 father," said the accommodating monarch, "then pray to 
 fire." 
 
 "Why not to water, which will quench the fire?" 
 
 "Be it so ; pray to water." 
 
 "But why not to the clouds which hold the water?" 
 
 "Well, then, pray to the clouds." 
 
 " Why not to the winds, which drive the clouds before 
 them?" 
 
 "Certainly, please yourself; pray to the winds." 
 
 "Be not angry, O king!" finally replied Abraham. "I 
 cannot pray to the fire, or the water, or the clouds, or the 
 winds, but to the Creator who made them : Him only will 
 I worship." Neither would he be persuaded to adore the 
 sun, moon and stars, for he discerned that they were not 
 stationary, and he said, as he contemplated the heavens, 
 "I like not things that set; these glittering orbs are not 
 gods, as they are subject to law: I will worship Him only 
 whose law they obey." 
 
 Science is the modern Terah. In these days it is ener- 
 getically reviving idol-making, a trade which by this time 
 ought to be hopelessly insolvent. The chief workmen who 
 seem to be interested in this enterprise are Comte, Haeckel, 
 Darwin, Vogt, Huxley and Spencer, and the gods they 
 have thus far manufactured are variously called "Proto- 
 
THE NEW IDOLATRY. 43 
 
 plasm," "Evolution," "Primitive Fire-Mist," "Promise 
 and Potency Theory," and " Creation by Law Hypothesis." 
 In these thought-idols a thriving business is being driven, 
 and, as in the case of the foolish woman and the venerable 
 man in the Abrahamic legend, many souls are substitut- 
 ing them in the place of the one ever-living and true God. 
 They who have shaped these little mechanical deities, and 
 who expose them to public view, do not assert that there 
 may not be above them or behind them Something or 
 Somebody to the mind unknown and unknowable, but 
 they do assume that they are all-sufficient to account for 
 the origin and order of the universe, without invoking the 
 interposition of any hyperphysical or supernatural agen- 
 cies or Agent. It is evident that the drift of such specu- 
 lations is in the direction of Atheism; for when every 
 reference to the Almighty is sneered at as unscientific, 
 when He is practically ruled out of His own creation, and 
 when second causes are invested with His attributes and 
 credited with His work, the denial of His existence is 
 logically demanded and cannot be long postponed. A 
 superfluous Deity is the next thing to an imaginary Deity; 
 to deprive Him of usefulness is to rob Him of being; to 
 say that He does not is substantially to say that He is 
 not. This is just the impression the new Terah is mak- 
 ing on society, and the hammer of Abraham is needed 
 to destroy the false gods that hide from the creature the 
 reality and nearness of the Creator. Multiplied voices, 
 like his, are demanded to denounce the fetich-worship 
 developing from modern thought, and to point out the 
 absurdity of scientific Nimrods reaffirming what Descartes 
 has long since disproved, that dynamical force inheres 
 in matter, or that law, which at the best is only a formula, 
 can of itself enact itself, and from itself evolve a universe. 
 The advocates of undisguised and absolute Atheism, 
 and the idol-makers who sympathize with them, are more or 
 
44 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 less agreed in maintaining certain propositions on the truth 
 or falseness of which rests the decision of the grave ques- 
 tion in debate. If the propositions referred to cannot be 
 sustained, Atheism is without even the shadow of a foun- 
 dation; if they can, then to say the least the cause of 
 theism is seriously compromised, if not imperiled. It is 
 assumed : 
 
 First, That the idea of God is explicable without 
 God. 
 
 Second, That the origin of nature is comprehensible 
 without God. 
 
 Third, That the existence of religion is possible with- 
 out God. 
 
 Fourth, That the elevation of humanity is practicable 
 without God. 
 
 These propositions, in my honest judgment, are unten- 
 able; most sincerely I condemn them, and confidently be- 
 lieve that their rejection can be justified. 
 
 Evolution, as taught by its greatest philosopher, Her- 
 bert Spencer, is regarded as adequate to account for intel- 
 lectual and social advancement, as well as for physical de- 
 velopment. Everything, it is claimed, that we think or 
 feel, as well as everything we see or touch, has been 
 evolved from lower and simpler forms or states. And 
 thus, it is argued, the idea of God originated, and has 
 slowly passed through many intermediate stages of growth 
 toward grace and beauty. It is assumed that fetich- 
 worship prevailed at the beginning; that this was subse- 
 quently refined into polytheism; and that this in its turn 
 gradually gave way to theism; and that since the triumph 
 of monotheism the character of the ideal, exalted to 
 supreme sovereignty, has unceasingly improved and broad- 
 ened. Primary and necessary belief in God's existence is 
 denied, a primeval and supernatural attestation of this be- 
 lief is discredited, and its beginnings are traced to human 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF DEITY. 45 
 
 fear mingled with superstition. This notion runs through 
 the poem of Lucretius; it is countenanced by Hume; it 
 is expressed by Dupuis in the words "the gods are the 
 children of men," and it is formulated and maintained by 
 Comte. 
 
 Of course that which had so questionable an origin, in 
 the advancing light of science cannot hope to maintain 
 its authority. The luminous meteor, whose radiance broke 
 through the night of ignorance, must inevitably be eclipsed 
 by the sun of knowledge. As the idea of God, according 
 to this theory, was first invented, or conjured up, to explain 
 the universe, just in proportion as that can be accounted 
 for, apart from Him, must confidence in His existence 
 be diminished. And thus the natural bourne of Evolution 
 is Atheism; and no God, the ultimate faith, or no-faith, 
 of the world. 
 
 It is not to be denied that a color of truth tints this 
 mass of assumption, but the color is exceedingly faint. 
 We admit that the conception of Deity has grown with 
 the elevation and enlightenment of mankind. That it 
 has been freed from blemishes, incongruities, and contra- 
 dictions, no one can doubt. The advent and ministry of 
 Christ contributed toward this result; and the thorough 
 comprehension of His teachings has led to the glorious 
 views of God's fatherhood which prevail to-day. Whether 
 they are susceptible of improvement, I know not. Prob- 
 ably they are. Most likely, as we know more of Christ's 
 message, more of nature, more of self, we shall also 
 know more of God. All this may be acknowledged glad- 
 ly; all this may be true, and undoubtedly is, and yet the 
 atheistic theory, with which it is deftly woven, be abso- 
 lutely false. 
 
 The idea of God is inexplicable without God; the 
 shadow that falls everywhere, as has frequently been 
 pointed out, is meaningless without something to which it 
 
46 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 corresponds. Mr. Bracllaugh says, " children are born 
 atheists"; but he overlooks what Lichtenberg declares: 
 " when the mind rises, it throws the body upon its knees." 
 As soon as consciousness dawns under natural conditions, 
 an invisible being seems instinctively to be recognized. 
 The child does not argue itself out of atheism into theism, 
 for "it is after the heart knows Him that the reason also 
 seeks Him." Cicero long ago deliberately declared that 
 "there is no people so wild and savage as not to have 
 believed in a God, even if they have been unacquainted 
 with His nature"; Plutarch, in a passage familiar to every- 
 one, expressed the same conviction, and it has been echoed 
 by many authorities, both ancient and modern ; and in an- 
 swer to those, who claim to have found exceptions to this 
 rule in recent times, writers such as Amberley, who is far 
 from sympathizing with Christianity, testifies: " So slender 
 is the evidence of the presence of a people without some 
 theological conception, that it may be doubted whether 
 the travelers who have reported such facts have not been 
 misled, either by inability to comprehend the language, 
 or unfamiliarity with the order of thought of those with 
 whom they conversed." The universality of the idea 
 evidently cannot be satisfactorily refuted, and if it is 
 established it proves that it is intuitive, and its intuitive- 
 ness proves that it is the counterpart of reality; just as 
 the reflection of a face in the water is sufficient evidence 
 that the face itself is not an illusion. If it is interwoven 
 with the mind, if it is part of the soul's original furniture, 
 it is folly to talk of its having been evolved, and equal 
 folly to doubt that it is God's own appointed witness to 
 the truth of His existence. 
 
 It is also worthy of consideration in this connection 
 that the alleged progress of thought from many gods to 
 one rests on no reliable foundation. Rather are there 
 reasons for believing that at an early period there was a 
 
ANTIQUITY OF MONOTHEISM. 47 
 
 widespread departure from the worship of one God to the 
 worship of many. Theism seems to have preceded poly- 
 theism, and polytheism in its turn to have yielded to the- 
 ism. From truth to error, and back again, and forever, to 
 the truth, describes the historical stages of this mental 
 process. As Naville, in his celebrated Discourses, says: 
 "The idea of one God is primitive and fundamental; 
 polytheism is derived. A forgotten monotheism slumbers 
 under the multiform worship. It is the secret stock from 
 which the latter grew; but the exuberant offspring con- 
 sumed the whole strength of the parent tree." 
 
 Max Muller, in his Essays on the Veda, the venerable 
 and most sacred book of India, observes "that after nam- 
 ing the several powers of nature, and worshiping them as 
 gods, the ancient Hindu found that there was yet another 
 power within him and around him for which he had no 
 name. This he termed, in the first instance, 'Brahman,' 
 force, will, wish. But when Brahman, too, had become a 
 person, he called the mysterious power 'Atman,' originally 
 meaning breath, or spirit; subsequently self." And in The 
 Chips from a German Workshop he adds: "If there is 
 one thing which a comparative study of religion places in 
 the clearest light, it is the inevitable decay to which every 
 religion is exposed. . . . Whenever we can trace back a 
 religion to its first beginnings, we find it free from many 
 blemishes that affected it in its later stages." Dr. Legge, 
 in his valuable treatise on the Religions of China, fully 
 corroborates this opinion; for he maintains against Pro- 
 fessor Tiele's insinuation that fetichism was the earliest 
 faith of the empire, the more tenable view that it was a 
 theism. This he makes good, not merely by an exhaustive 
 analysis of the primitive name, Ti, applied to the Supreme, 
 but by quotations from the statutes of the Ming Dynasty, 
 such as the following: "It is your office, O spirits, — infe- 
 rior agencies, — to superintend the clouds and the rain, 
 
48 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 and to raise and send abroad the winds, as ministers assist- 
 ing Shang Ti," who is also called "the great worker and 
 transformer." Principal Dawson also, when describing 
 Fossil Men, testifies that the creed of Stadacona, the 
 ancient Quebec, "There is one God," was held, with 
 various modifications, by all the American tribes. " The 
 Great Spirit might be the Great Manitou, or Oghee-ma of 
 the Algonquins; Okee or Omaha of the Mandans; or 
 approaching more nearly to the familiar Aryan Theos and 
 Deus, he might be the Teo of the Mexicans; but in every 
 case there was a great Spirit, though there might be mul- 
 titudes of inferior deities." The same thing has been 
 observed by careful students of the Greek and Roman 
 mythologies. Over and above their lesser and rival gods 
 some Supreme Jove is discerned, governing and ruling, as 
 in the hymn which the ancient stoic Cleanthes breathes to 
 Zeus, the universal Spirit. And what is even of more 
 weight, scholars have proven that the name of God in 
 various ancient languages can be traced to a common root, 
 pointing to a primitive belief in His unity. According to 
 Dr. Fairbairn, "the Sanskrit Dyaus, the Greek Zeus, the 
 Latin Ju in Jupiter, the Gothic This, the Anglo-Saxon 
 Tiu, the Scandinavian Tyr, the old German Ziu or Zio," 
 are cognates; and Max Miiller writes concerning them: 
 "We have in the Veda the invocations Dyas-pitar, the 
 Greek Zsutzuttjp, the Latin Jupiter/ and that means in all 
 the three languages what it meant before these three lan- 
 guages were torn asunder, — it means Heaven-father." 
 
 These facts are fatal to the theological theory of evolu- 
 tion. From them it seems evident that man began with 
 the idea of 'one God, and gradually fell into idolatry, 
 obscuring the original idea, but never completely effacing 
 it. He debased the grandest and most central thought of 
 his religion; he never quite succeeded in effecting its 
 destruction. Were the Evolution hypothesis true this pro- 
 
THE ORIGIN OF NATURE. 49 
 
 cess would have been reversed; man would have started 
 with belief in many gods, and have risen to the thought 
 of one; but as the facts prove retrogression first and then 
 progress, we are obliged to regard the hypothesis as un- 
 worthy of confidence. And as it fails to account for the 
 origin of the idea of God, and as we find the idea at the 
 very dawning of human history, and apparently native to 
 every human soul, we are shut up to the conclusion that 
 no explanation is possible, apart from the corresponding 
 reality to which it points. 
 
 But if the idea of God is inexplicable without God, 
 the origin of nature is equally incomprehensible without 
 Him. Who is there that can form even a vague concep- 
 tion of how the universe came into being or was fashioned 
 in beauty and clothed with deepest symbolism when the 
 existence of an Infinite Intelligence is denied? Much is 
 written about nebulae, about plastic matter, about atoms 
 and molecules, about ages of measureless duration, when 
 the molten mass whence sprang all things was gradually 
 cooling and shaping itself into suns, moons, stars and satel- 
 lites; about the condensation of its particles, the radiation 
 of its heat, and its rotary motion; about the formation of 
 great rings, which continued to whirl and spin, like wheels, 
 until each was broken into fragments and pursued its cir- 
 cumrotation around its own appropriate center. Much also 
 has been written about the earth, — how at the beginning 
 it was a liquid, fiery ball, with zones of vapor belting it, 
 which turned into water and filled the cracks and chasms 
 of the cooling crust with broad-heaving seas and deep- 
 flowing streams; and how, after the lapse of untold ages, 
 infusorial life appeared and the struggle for existence 
 commenced, which in the course of time, and after throes 
 of agony, extermination and transient conflict, culminated 
 in the development of man from inferior species. All this 
 is interesting enough, and it all may be true, but I defy 
 4 
 
50 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 any one to understand it apart from the creative wisdom 
 and almightiness of God. Spontaneous motion and spon- 
 taneous generation, and the fortuitous concurrence of 
 atoms, which have been marshaled with great pomp and 
 royalty of language to explain this complicated marvel, 
 but darken what they undertake to illuminate; they are 
 but myths of science, — deep, involved, bewildering, — or 
 gorgeous speculations, dazzling with electric brilliancy, 
 and like the electric light creating denser and more pain- 
 ful shadows than they disperse. Whence came the primal 
 force, of which so much is affirmed, and what at first dis- 
 turbed the original inertia of matter? What determined 
 the origin, the order and arrangement of the atoms or the 
 molecules, concerning which we know so little and about 
 which so many talk learned emptiness ? We really know 
 absolutely nothing of their essential nature, as they are 
 invisible and intangible, and consequently are beyond the 
 range of our analysis. How came they, then, to combine, 
 what started them on their career, and how came it that 
 their complicated combinations and mazy processionings 
 produced the endless phenomena of the worlds ? We wait 
 for an intelligent reply, and we shall wait for it eternally. 
 Holbach, in answering similar questions, was obliged to 
 admit: "We do not know, neither do you; we never shall, 
 you never will." But does some thinker, more intrepid 
 than the German, reply: "Chance, necessity, is all that is 
 logically required to account for everything"? But this 
 accounts for nothing; it is simply a confession of igno- 
 rance, and not in any sense an elucidation of the problem. 
 It is merely to repeat the senile and senseless affirmation 
 that the earth rests upon "the tortoise," but to leave un- 
 answered the more vital question, "On what does the tor- 
 toise rest?" 
 
 Claudias, in his C/iria, represents the illuminati as say- 
 ing: "Whether there be a God, and what He may be, phi- 
 
THE DESIGN — ARGUMENT. 51 
 
 losophy alone can teach, and without philosophy there can 
 be no thought of God." "Good," answers the Master; 
 "yet, though no man can say of me with a shadow of 
 truth that I am a philosopher, I never go through the 
 forest without thinking who makes the flowers grow, and 
 then a faint and distant notion comes over me of a great 
 Unknown One, and so reverently, yet so joyfully, does my 
 heart thrill that I could wager that I am thinking of 
 God." He instinctively recognizes the Worker by His 
 work, and realizes that it is too wonderful, too beautiful, 
 too closely allied to himself and too intimately related 
 to his happiness for it to have been the result of unpre- 
 meditating chance. And a similar impression led Lord 
 Bacon to exclaim, " I had rather believe all the fables in 
 the legend, and the Talmud and Al Koran, than that this 
 universal frame is without mind; and therefore God never 
 wrought miracles to convince Atheism, because His ordi- 
 nary works convince it." 
 
 They are right; the order of nature, as well as its origin, 
 reveals intelligent design, and design cannot be explained 
 apart from a great Designer. I know Lucretius disputed 
 this proposition, but Aristotle recognized its force, and 
 since his day many a heart has been made glad by what 
 has been discerned of Infinite wisdom in the universe. Mr. 
 Spencer may ridicule Paley's argument, but his admirer, 
 Mr. Darwin, has more than confirmed it in what he has 
 written about insect agency, and of remarkable instances 
 of contrivance and prevision. Sir Charles Bell also has 
 done good service in the same direction. When account- 
 ing for his interest in the study of anatomy, he impressively 
 wrote: "Everything there is so perfect, so curiously fitted, 
 and leads you by little and little to the comprehension of 
 a wisdom so perfect, that I am forced to believe that in 
 the moral world things are not really left in all that disar- 
 ray in which our partial view would persuade us they are." 
 
52 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Even Mr. Holyoake, in his Debate with Townley, was con- 
 strained to yield to the logic of such reasoning and "to 
 allow that, so far as the design argument goes, it estab- 
 lishes a being which is distinct from nature, — of limited 
 nature." These are his own words, found in the London 
 edition of this celebrated controversy, published in 1852, 
 and now somewhat rare. Hume, Natural History of 
 Religion, declared "that the whole frame of nature be- 
 speaks an intelligent Author"; and Voltaire, as is well 
 known, fully sympathized with this conclusion, as, indeed, 
 did Thomas Paine, and both gave it their unqualified sup- 
 port and testified to it repeatedly with graceful eloquence. 
 
 I shall never forget a similar testimony borne by the 
 late Professor Peirce, of Harvard, one of the most devout 
 scientists I ever had the pleasure to meet, who, in a lec- 
 ture on the Nebular Hypothesis, delivered before a select 
 company at the Chestnut Street Club, in Boston, dwelt on 
 the evidences of Divine existence and wisdom which it 
 afforded, and incidentally called attention to the fact that 
 "the wing of the eagle is never found in the egg of a 
 goose." Simple and commonplace as the statement was 
 it condensed in itself an irresistible argument. One could 
 not believe that from sources so similar pinions would 
 unfold so differently, unless previously ordered and ar- 
 ranged by a thinking mind. He demonstrated that in the 
 lowest organizations, as well as in the highest, the marks 
 of design are too conspicuous to admit of cavil or doubt; 
 and thus led he his hearers, eloquently and with poetic 
 pathos, "through nature up to nature's God." 
 
 Yes, up to God, for to Him, and to Him alone, do the 
 labyrinthine and complicated wonders of the universe 
 point. When that awe-inspiring name is spoken, when 
 He is looked up to and devoutly recognized as the primal, 
 all-sufficient Cause, the problem of creation seems less in- 
 volved and inscrutable. Even if His name does not alto- 
 
ATHEISTIC RELIGIONS. 53 
 
 gether satisfy the head, it meets the questionings of the 
 heart. At least every other attempted solution of the 
 mystery is vague, irrelevant, incoherent and utterly mean- 
 ingless. This alone is clear, complete and comprehensive, 
 and is practically unanswerable. That as the sole Cause 
 He is perfectly adequate to account for all things no one 
 has yet had the temerity to deny. All that the Atheist 
 claims is that nature is comprehensible without Him, 
 not that it is incomprehensible with Him. Every one 
 admits that He is a sufficient explanation; the atheistic- 
 ally inclined only try to show that He is an unneces- 
 sary one. I have aimed in these brief paragraphs to 
 show that their position is untenable; that it does not and 
 cannot account for things as they are; that their solu- 
 tions of the problem, with His name omitted and His 
 agency ignored, are irreconcilable with the evidences of 
 design and with what we know of the properties of 
 matter, and involve us in confusing contradictions and 
 inextricable perplexities. 
 
 It may seem very singular to you that anyone should 
 have suggested the possibility of religion with no God 
 acknowledged in its faith or reverenced in its worship. 
 Yet this is a favorite assumption of some quick-gaited 
 followers of modern thought. Thus, as quoted by Mr. 
 Mallock, " Professor Tyndall points with delighted confi- 
 dence to the gospel of Buddhism as one of pure human 
 ethics, divorced not only from Brahma and the Brah- 
 minic trinity, but even from the existence of God"; and 
 M. Barthelemy Saint-Hilaire asserts that " there is not 
 the slightest trace of a belief in God in all Buddhism. " 
 The Positive Philosophy advocates something akin to 
 this. As man is the highest being which it can consist- 
 ently recognize, it proposes to worship collective human- 
 ity with all the enthusiasm such a deity can inspire, 
 and to derive from it a scheme of morals that shall put 
 
54 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 to blush the inferior ethics of Christianity. Verily the 
 sagacious Lichtenberg was not mad when he prophesied: 
 " This world of ours will become so refined, that it will 
 be as ridiculous to believe in God as it now is to believe in 
 ghosts. And then the world will become still more 
 refined — then we shall believe only in ghosts. We shall 
 ourselves become as God." 
 
 Now with due deference to Professor Tyndall and M. 
 Saint-Hilaire I may be allowed to say that while Bud- 
 dhism as a system says nothing about God, His existence 
 is not denied; and most likely, by its founder, was assumed, 
 as his doctrine was based on the Veda, in which it is fully 
 recognized. Moreover, it should not be overlooked that 
 the followers of Buddha did not abandon the ancient 
 deities whom their fathers worshiped, such as Indra and 
 Brahma, and that Buddha himself came to be regarded as 
 the most exalted being in the universe. He who deter- 
 mined all the circumstances of his own incarnation, and 
 who delivered infallible doctrine, could not fail to receive 
 divine honors, or become as fully God to the faith of 
 millions, as Christ is to untold numbers of His disciples. 
 Hence such prayers as this, reproduced by Johnson from 
 Franck's Etudes Orientates, and in use among the Mon- 
 golians: "O thou in whom all creatures trust, Buddha, per- 
 fected amidst countless revolutions of worlds, compassion- 
 ate toward all, and their eternal salvation, bend down 
 into this our sphere, with all thy society of perfected 
 ones. Thou law of all creatures, brighter than the sun, 
 in faith we humble ourselves before thee. Thou who 
 completest all pilgrimage, also dwellest in the world of 
 rest, before whom all is but transient, descend by 
 thy almighty power, and bless us." In Thibetan 
 Buddhism, Avalok-iteswara, its manifested deity, is said 
 to hear and answer prayer, and that they who trust in 
 him are secure. And in Nepaul, where Buddhism pre- 
 
HISTORICAL CREEDS. 55 
 
 vails, theism is not divorced from the system, but is in- 
 terwoven with it, and is doubtless one cause of its vigor. 
 As to Positivism, that is as yet an experiment; but I do 
 not think much is hazarded in predicting that its influ- 
 ence will never extend beyond a limited circle of pecul- 
 iar, not to say abnormal, souls. It is inconceivable that 
 common- sense people will ever be persuaded to worship 
 ideal humanity, or to agree in founding a church in 
 which man shall be both priest and deity. The world 
 is not yet a lunatic asylum, and it is not probable that 
 it will soon so far become one as to deify the perishing 
 and adore the impotent. 
 
 While it is not true that religions have flourished 
 where " The fool hath said in his heart, ' there is no 
 God,' " it is true that their worth and purity depend very 
 largely on the conceptions formed of His attributes and 
 character. What He is, they are. His nature as a rule 
 decides theirs. A savage, cruel deity can hardly beget 
 anything but a harsh faith and a cruel ritual; but a lov- 
 ing, merciful God will ever be the fruitful source of sym- 
 pathy and tenderness in the institutions that are reared 
 to magnify His name. He Himself will be reflected 
 in the rites and ceremonies of formal worship as well as 
 in the lives of His people. This principle explains the 
 differences that separate historic faiths from each other 
 and shows why some are gross and others refined, some 
 animalistic and others spiritual, and indicates how im- 
 portant it is not merely to think of God, but to think 
 of Him aright. It also very clearly proves that the 
 growth of pure religion in the world can only be pro- 
 moted by knowing more of Him: certainly not by deny- 
 ing Him altogether. And if religion is thus a necessity 
 of our nature, which the Atheist concedes when he claims 
 that the prevalence of his creed would not destroy it, 
 and if, as we have argued, it is inseparable from a 
 
56 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 recognition of the Almighty, then we cannot but con- 
 clude that its character and universality demonstrate the 
 reality of His existence. 
 
 A vigorous imagination is doubtless needed to affirm 
 that the elevation of humanity is practicable without God; 
 yet such is the dream of Gustave Flourens, and of a few 
 other visionary mortals. The gentleman just named, ap- 
 parently in a state of semi-frenzy, has been pleased to 
 write. "Our enemy is God. Hatred of God is the begin- 
 ning of wisdom. If mankind would make true progress it 
 must be on the basis of Atheism;" and Mr. Bradlaugh so 
 far approves this startling view as to say: "Atheism, 
 properly understood, is in no sense a cold, barren negative; 
 it is, on the contrary, a hearty, truthful affirmation of all 
 truth. You cannot get your scheme of morality without 
 it." Are these gentlemen drugged or mad, or has the entire 
 race gone crazy and they alone retained their senses ? As- 
 suredly either the eleven jurymen have turned imbeciles, 
 or the twelfth one is sadly muddled and demented. Which ? 
 It may, however, relieve our perplexities and allay our fears 
 to learn that Mr. Holyoake has controverted these obnox- 
 ious sentiments, distinctly declaring that "Atheism, as 
 such, gives no system of truth and no scheme of morality." 
 These champions of a common creed may be left to reconcile 
 their differences as best they may. It is enough for us to 
 know, an enemy being judge, that theists are not so stupid 
 as Flourens and his sympathizers insinuate. We doubtless 
 have heard similar groundless tirades against the Deity 
 nearer home. Some things in Colonel Ingersoll's brilliant 
 invectives, and various statements in Professor Draper's 
 uncandid criticisms, suggest that religion has really been 
 a hindrance to human progress, and that until it is finally 
 abolished all that is possible can never be accomplished. 
 One would suppose that belief in God has been an unmiti- 
 gated curse to the race, darkening the intellect, afflicting 
 
ATHEISM AND MORALITY. 57 
 
 the heart, and burdening the life. Indeed, against it, in 
 one form or another, these accusations have been brought 
 repeatedly. It has been over and over again alleged that 
 faith in God has excited fear, has paralyzed inquiry, has 
 impeded freedom of thought and speech, has deepened 
 bigotry, resisted science, and intensified selfishness and 
 prejudice. If these charges are true, if theism has ren- 
 dered mankind ignoble, miserable, dwarfed its growth and 
 checked its onward march, then indeed must it be admit- 
 ted that human elevation is not only practicable without 
 God, but would really be accelerated if His name could be 
 erased from the vocabulary of thought. But can any sane 
 man, familiar with history and free from blinding antipa- 
 thy to Christianity, admit such monstrous allegations? 
 
 That which we call morality is grounded on the being 
 and governorship of the Almighty. In Him the source of 
 righteousness is recognized, and from Him it derives its 
 sanction. Right and wrong were meaningless terms were 
 it not that they represent eternal and necessary distinc- 
 tions which even the Infinite cannot abrogate, and account- 
 ability would be to all intents and purposes a fiction were 
 it not that He lives and reigns. Obligation is only another 
 word for theism: for it involves theism, and is inseparable 
 from it. Doubtless it is possible for some men who have 
 been reared in an atmosphere of Christian faith, and who 
 have received from pious parents correct principles of 
 conduct, to live upright lives ; but it cannot be shown 
 that a community entirely ignorant of religion and its 
 sacred influence, and fully convinced of the certainty of 
 Atheism, would be able to derive from it adequate motives 
 to virtue, or would even be able to believe in virtue at all. 
 Why should Plato have banished all Atheists from his 
 ideal Republic, and why was Cicero so intent against 
 them ? Perhaps Voltaire may help us to a satisfactory 
 reply. In his Philosophical Dictionary he says with 
 
58 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 much pungency: "I would not wish to come in the way 
 of an atheistical prince, whose interest it should be to 
 have me pounded in a mortar. I am quite sure that I 
 should be so pounded. AVere I a sovereign, I would not 
 have to do with atheistical courtiers, whose interest it was 
 to poison me; I should be under the necessity of taking 
 an antidote every day. It is, then, absolutely necessary 
 for princes and people that the idea of a Supreme Being, 
 creating, governing, and rewarding and punishing, be 
 engraven on their minds." That is, he believed, as did 
 both Plato and Cicero, that the well-being of society de- 
 pends on morality, and morality on God; and that, there- 
 fore, they who deny His existence will be far from feeling 
 that sense of obligation which would make them honest 
 rulers or useful and worthy citizens. This seems to have 
 been the judgment of antiquity, — a judgment repeated 
 by the best minds of modern times, and a judgment more 
 than justified by those brief, disastrous periods, and by 
 those unhappy cities, in which atheism has held temporary 
 sway. 
 
 Morality is the source and inspiration of progress; it 
 quickens and purifies genius and industry; it stimulates 
 and encourages thought and endeavor. The countries 
 where science and art have flourished are those which 
 have adhered most firmly to its principles, and have traced 
 them most uniformly to an Invisible Source. What dis- 
 covery, what great enterprise, what beneficent revolution, 
 what enlarged benevolence, what victory for freedom, 
 what achievement for art, is due to the influence of athe- 
 ism ? Has it delivered the captive, rescued the fallen, 
 lifted up the oppressed, strengthened the weak, defended 
 the helpless? No; its record is unhonored with accounts 
 of such deeds. It is a melancholy and disgraceful blank. 
 Never has it given to the world a Plato, a Copernicus, a 
 Galileo, a Bacon, a Milton, an Angelo, a Wilberforce, or 
 
MISERY OF ATHEISM. 59 
 
 any other great name entitled to rank with the benefac- 
 tors of mankind. It has actually done nothing to advance 
 the well-being of humanity; and yet it has in these last 
 days the effrontery to represent itself as sufficiently bene- 
 ficent to be the real and only Messiah. May we be saved 
 from its millennium ! for if it bear likeness to its past 
 history, the wilderness and solitary place will only be 
 more solitary, and the blossoming rose will return to 
 desert dreariness. 
 
 Then, as to fear and wretchedness, how does it come to 
 pass, if theism is untrue, that in proportion as it is doubted 
 these evils grow denser in the soul? When it was rejected 
 in Rome, suicide increased. The most distinguished men 
 of those times felt that existence was worthless; and Scho- 
 penhauer, who in our day has elaborated Godless material- 
 ism into a poem, wailingly and sneeringly contends that 
 "all possessions are vanity, the world a bankrupt in all 
 quarters, and life a business that does not pay expenses." 
 Such is the happiness that atheism offers and yields. Can 
 there come anything but this awful and woful weariness 
 when man is everlastingly confronted by eternal death, 
 universal dumbness and echoing dissonances? Fear! How 
 does atheism deliver from terror? It has banished God 
 from thought, but has it excluded from apprehension that 
 which these blind material forces, these overwhelming 
 physical agencies, these subtle elements, ordered by law- 
 less chance and frantic destiny, may do and work? In 
 them there is no intelligence to appeal to, no mercy to 
 call on, — only irresistible, reckless, heartless power and 
 fate. Well may we cower before such devastating and 
 consuming monsters, such huge, uncontrollable and soul- 
 less antagonists. In their grasp we are more helpless than 
 infants; before their breath we are as frail as the bubble 
 that is shattered by the gentlest breeze, or the spray-drop 
 that glistens for a moment on the crested wave and is 
 
60 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 then beaten back into the oblivion of the deep by the tri- 
 umphant wind. The recognition of Deity has inspired 
 fear, and must; but not such terrible, hopeless fear as 
 does ungoverned and ungovernable nature. He, at least, 
 can be communed with; on Him, at least, the oppressed 
 can lean; and unto Him, at least, the weary toilers can 
 hope to go when death terminates their bitter sorrows; but 
 nature has no heart to feel, no hand to help, and no refuge 
 but a loathsome grave in which despair can hide its an- 
 guish. 
 
 Is it not ridiculous, then, to believe that human prog- 
 ress is feasible, with Godless nature, like a dead timepiece, 
 for its guide and inspiration ? If the universe is but a 
 dial without a hand, how can we poor mortals know the 
 time of day, or recognize the duty of the hour? Such a 
 dumb, motionless horologe, without ever a morning chime 
 to awaken slumbering virtue or a midnight bell to toll the 
 doom of wakeful viciousness, would hardly promote the 
 moral order of society or exalt the character of its mem- 
 bers. And if my argument has been sound throughout, 
 though proofs of the Divine existence have not been 
 formally attempted, it must necessarily follow, as the idea 
 of God is not explicable without Him, as the origin of 
 nature is not comprehensible without Him, as the preva- 
 lence of religion is not possible without Him, or the eleva- 
 tion of humanity practicable without Him, that He must 
 be the One everlasting reality and imperishable glory of 
 the universe. 
 
 The reproach of the pagan world pronounced b) T Paul, 
 "that when they knew God they glorified Him not as 
 God," unhappily is not undeserved by many in our own 
 times. Theoretical atheism generally may have been re- 
 jected, but that which is practical yet holds in bondage 
 the large majority of souls. Inconsiderateness of Divine 
 things, prayerlessness and godlessness, are the common 
 
PRACTICAL ATHEISM. 61 
 
 evils of the age. Men and women who sincerely count 
 themselves believers in the central truth of religion never 
 bow the knee before God's throne; they avoid His sanc- 
 tuary, and keep every thought of His presence and power 
 as far as possible from them. They live every day as 
 though there were no God, and act as though they stood 
 not in the blaze of His omniscience, and were not hasten- 
 ing, with every fleeting breath, to His judgment seat. 
 End, I beseech you, end this inconsistency. Learn that 
 He who made you seeks to dwell in you ; that He who 
 rules over you would fain become your friend and guide. 
 Though you are weak and frail, though you are poor and 
 helpless, He does not despise you, but would glorify your 
 being with His own, and raise you to fellowship with 
 Himself. Think of Him, turn to Him, love and obey 
 Him, and then will you know from blessed experience 
 what it is to live and move and have your being in Him. 
 
 " What am I ? Naught, 
 Nothing! yet the effluence of Thy light divine, 
 Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too; 
 Yes, in my spirit doth Thy spirit shine, 
 As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew. 
 Naught ! but I live, and on hope's pinions fly 
 Eager toward Thy presence ; for in Thee 
 I live, and breathe, and dwell, aspiring high, 
 Even to the throne of Thy divinity." 
 
PANTHEISM. 
 
 " For in Him we live, and move, and have our being." Acts xvii, 28. 
 
 " Hallowed be Thy name — Hallelujah ! 
 Infinite Ideality! 
 Immeasurable Reality! 
 Infinite Personality! 
 Hallowed be Thy name — Hallelujah! 
 We feel we are nothing — for all is Thou and in Thee; 
 We feel we are something — that also has come from Thee. 
 We are nothing, O Thou — but Thou wilt help us to be! 
 Hallowed be Thy name — Hallelujah ! " 
 
 Alfred Tennyson. 
 
 AMONG the Hindu lore collected by Viscount Ani' 
 -£^_ berley we have the following interesting legend: 
 A wise father said to his son Swetaketu: "Dissolve this 
 salt in water, and appear before me to-morrow morning." 
 The youth obeyed, and when on the return of day he 
 saluted his sire he was directed to find the salt that he 
 had mingled with the water on the previous evening. He 
 acknowledged that he could not, Then answered the 
 parent: "Taste a little of the refreshing element, — a few 
 drops from the top, a few from the middle and a few from 
 the bottom. What is the flavor?" "The water is salt- 
 ish," replied Swetaketu. "If so, wash your mouth and 
 grieve not." Having done as he was bidden, he said to 
 his father: "The salt that I put in the water exists for- 
 ever; though it is not perceived by my eyes it is felt by 
 my tongue." "Verily such is the case with truth, my 
 child," responded the sage, who was seeking to illustrate 
 the deep mystery of the finite-infinite: "though you per- 
 ceive it not, nevertheless it pervades this body. That 
 
HINDU PANTHEISM. 63 
 
 particle which is the soul of all, this is truth; it is the 
 universal soul. O Swetaketu, thou art That ! " 
 
 We have in this brief dialogue a hint of that strange 
 doctrine which fills so large a place in Hindu philosophy, 
 and which, in more logical shape, has exerted a profound 
 influence on modern European speculations. I refer to 
 Pantheism, — that remarkable belief of which traces are 
 apparent in the world's most venerable religions; which 
 renders Atheism impossible by identifying the Almighty 
 with the universe; which substitutes all-God for no-God; 
 which declares that God is everything, or that everything 
 is God, and which thus makes Him the center and circum- 
 ference, the essence and the substance, of every order of 
 existence and of every species of phenomena, Glimpses of 
 an all-embracing, all-comprehending, all-pervading Being, 
 who is the " anima mundi" are afforded us in the sacred 
 memorials of ancient faiths. The Veda represents Him 
 as Essence, and thus chants His nature in its hymns of 
 praise: 
 
 " The wise man views that mysterious Being 
 In whom the universe perpetually exists, 
 Resting upon that sole support, 
 In Him is the world absorbed, 
 From Him it issues. 
 In creatures is He twined and wove in various forms." 
 
 In the Mahdbhdrata Vishnu is presented as the su- 
 preme Deity, who is revealed in everything, and who in 
 himself is everything. Thus he describes himself when 
 holding converse with a mortal, whom he is inciting to 
 slay his relatives by the argument that all life is illusive 
 except the Divine, and that, therefore, he will only be 
 destroying an appearance: "I am the soul, O Arjuna, 
 which exists in the heart of all beings; and I am the 
 beginning and the middle, and also the end, of existing 
 things." Thus, also, among the Egyptians we find above 
 
64 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 their multiplied mythological gods One, and only One, to 
 whom is given the name Ra, concerning whom George 
 Ebers writes in Uarda : " Under the name Ra we under- 
 stand something different than is known to the common 
 herd; for to us the universe is God, and in each of its 
 parts we recognize a manifestation of that highest Being, 
 without whom nothing is in the heights above or in the 
 depths below." . . . "Whether we view the sun, the har- 
 vest, or the Nile; whether we contemplate with admiration 
 the unity and harmony of the visible or invisible world, 
 still it is always with the only, the all-embracing One, we 
 have to do, to whom we also ourselves belong as those 
 of His manifestations, in which He places His self-con- 
 sciousness." An English version of Hermes gives the 
 following quotation, which throws additional light on this 
 Egyptian conception of a diffused Divinity : " There is 
 nothing in the whole world which God is not. He is 
 being and non-being. He has manifested being, but He 
 has non-being in Himself." . . . "Thou art what I am; 
 Thou art what I do; Thou art what I say; Thou art all 
 which is produced and which is not produced." And in 
 the city of Alexandria the same mystical idea seems to 
 have blended with the worship of Serapis; for when 
 Nicocreon, King of Cyprus, consulted him he received 
 this reply: 
 
 "A god I am, such as I show to thee, 
 The starry heavens my head, my trunk the sea; 
 Earth forms my feet, mine ears the air supplies, 
 The sun's far-darting, brilliant rays mine eyes." 
 
 According to this representation Serapis and nature 
 were looked upon as one and indivisible; and similarly, 
 in the " Boundless Time " of the Parsees, the " Bythos," 
 or "The Depths" of the Ophites, and the "Closed Eye" 
 of the Kabalists, we find suggestions of the 
 
ELEATIC SPECULATIONS. 65 
 
 " One harmonious whole, 
 Whose body nature is, and God the soul." 
 
 " To Him no high, no low, no great, no small ; 
 He fills, He bounds, connects, and equals all." 
 
 Pantheism also, among the Greeks, had its advocates. 
 The pre-Socratic philosophers were more or less tainted 
 with it, though it first attained complete expression in 
 the teachings of the Eleatics. Xenophanes, the founder 
 of this school, says Aristotle, " casting his eyes upward 
 at the immensity of heaven, declared that the One is 
 God." Hunt, in his admirable treatise on this subject, 
 represents Parmenides, the successor of Xenophanes, as 
 holding to a species of Acosmism, which led him to chal- 
 lenge the reality of external appearances, and to assume 
 that " thought is the same thing as being," and " that 
 nothing, in fact, is, or will be, distinct from being." In 
 contrast with Eleaticism, the mystical Heraclitus, a phi- 
 losopher who constantly lived in a "cave of cloud," un- 
 able to discover the Absolute, taught that the universe 
 is neither being nor non-being, but an eternal Becoming, 
 and this eternal Becoming, as in the case of the Eleatics, 
 he identified with the One. " Unite the whole and the 
 not-whole," he argues, " the coalescing and the not-co- 
 alescing, the harmonious and the discordant, and thus we 
 have the one Becoming from the all, and the all from 
 the One." 
 
 Not to these sources, however, but to Spinoza (1677), 
 must Pantheism, as it influences thought in our day, be 
 traced. This celebrated man was a Jew, dark-featured, 
 slender, delicate, emaciated, consumptive, who was pub- 
 licly excommunicated from the congregation of his ances- 
 tors on account of the belief, or unbelief, that was in him. 
 The views, which he never took pains to conceal, not only 
 resulted in his expulsion from the synagogue, but con- 
 5 
 
66 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 demned him to a life of toil and indigence. He obtained 
 enough for his absolute necessities by polishing lenses; 
 and in a forlorn Dutch chamber at The Hague, forsaken 
 by friends, and ridiculed by enemies, he worked out his 
 philosophical system, which, while' fiercely assailed and 
 vulnerable at several points, remains a monument of its 
 author's genius and industry. His death occurred when 
 he was only forty-five years old, younger than Goethe and 
 Kant were when they began to give the world the fruit of 
 their reading and thinking. While Christians must de- 
 plore the perversion of his great talents, they should care- 
 fully avoid alluding to him as one who has no claims on 
 their charity and respect. He was no moral monster, no 
 hard-hearted wretch, no callous profligate. His only vice 
 was the comparatively harmless one of smoking, his only 
 villainy arraying spiders against each other in battle, and 
 his principal amusement the struggle of flies caught in the 
 web of their mortal insect-antagonists. He was reverent 
 in spirit, devout, not to say religious, blameless in life, and 
 uncomplaining in death. While we differ from him, then, 
 let us not depreciate; while we combat his theories, let us 
 not calumniate his character. 
 
 A comprehensive idea of his philosophy may be gath- 
 ered, not only from his own writings, but from those of 
 his biographers, annotators, and expositors — such as G. 
 H. Lewes, Emile Saisset, Schelling, Hegel, Hunt, Morell, 
 and Cousin. In his own words we have this summary: 
 "The foundation of all that exists is the one eternal 
 substance, which makes its actual appearance in the 
 double world of thought, and of matter existing in space. 
 Individual forms emerge from the womb of this substance, 
 as of ever- fertile nature, to be again swallowed up in 
 the stream of life. As the waves of the sea rise and 
 sink, so does individual life arise to sink back again 
 into that common life which is the death of all indi- 
 
TEACHINGS OF SPINOZA. 67 
 
 vidual existence." Victor Cousin, in his History of Phi- 
 losophy, gives the following statement of his doctrine: 
 " With Spinoza the single substance is all, and the indi- 
 viduals are nothing. This substance is not the nominal 
 unity of the assemblage of individuals, each of which 
 exists singly, but is the single really existing substance, 
 and in the presence of that substance the world and men 
 are but shadows; so that from the Ethics may be gath- 
 ered an exaggerated Theism, which leaves no individual 
 existing as such." M. Saisset, a critic of no mean ability, 
 describes our philosophic Jew as holding that " God sleeps 
 in the mineral, dreams in the animal, and awakens into 
 consciousness in the man "; and Luthardt, regarding Hegel 
 as a disciple of Spinoza, represents him, in common with 
 Morell {Historical and Critical View, vi, 10 J^ 155), as 
 maintaining "that the absolute is the universal reason, 
 which, having first buried and lost itself in nature, recov- 
 ers itself in man, in the shape of self-conscious mind, in 
 which the absolute, at the close of its great process, comes 
 again to itself, and comprises itself in unity with itself. 
 This process of mind is God. Man's thought of God is 
 the existence of God. God has no independent being or 
 existence; He exists only in us. God does not know him- 
 self; it is we who know Him." That is, to sum up these 
 various representations, consubstantiation of the finite and 
 Infinite, of the natural and Supernatural, of the human 
 and Divine; and transubstantiation, through which, mys- 
 teriously, one becomes the other and yet remains the same, 
 are the two leading and all-comprehensive articles of the 
 Pantheistic creed. 
 
 The extent to which these views prevail in our time is 
 not generally realized. They appear with more or less 
 distinctness in the writings of Emerson. His Oversold 
 is an eloquent, though somewhat incoherent, species of 
 Pantheism; and in Theodore Parker's works, especially in 
 
68 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 his Discourse on Religion, numerous passages occur which 
 manifest his sympathy with Schleiermacher's drift in the 
 same direction. Cultivated people admire Spinoza, and 
 the class of sentiments now widely current in literature, 
 which grow out of his philosophy, are cherished on account 
 of their poetic sweetness, little attention being bestowed 
 on their accuracy or value. They do not pause to con- 
 sider the effect morally and theologically of a system, 
 which in many instances they are pleased with, but do 
 not understand, and whose claims on their attention as 
 rational beings they have never taken pains to examine. 
 Believing, as I do, that its influence is disastrous, I desire, 
 within the insufficient limits of a sermon, to point out its 
 radical defects in such a way as to lay a broad foundation 
 for a more intelligible and salutary Theism. In doing so I 
 shall argue: 
 
 First, That Godhood without personality is Godhood 
 without perfection; 
 
 Second, That manhood without individuality is man- 
 hood without responsibility; 
 
 Third, That morality without liberty is morality with- 
 out virtue. 
 
 Fourth, That immortality without consciousness is im- 
 mortality without existence. 
 
 Our notion of personality is derived from what we see 
 of it in the world; and it must be confessed that it seems 
 incompatible with any adequate idea of the infinite or 
 absolute. Limitation and limitlessness cannot, with log- 
 ical consistency, be predicated of the same being. To say 
 that God is infinite, as we understand the term, is to say 
 that He is entirely unconditioned; and for Him to be 
 unconditioned is for Him to be impersonal; and converse- 
 ly, to say that He is personal, that is, conditioned, is to 
 say that He is not infinite; and to say that He is not infi- 
 nite is to deny that He is God, This is the dilemma 
 
SPINOZA ON THE INFINITE. 69 
 
 which has confronted everyone who has seriously consid- 
 ered the philosophy of Spinoza, and which has driven many 
 into the denial of personality, that they might preserve 
 the notion of infinitude. Nor do I see any other course 
 open for us if we continue to employ these terms, as they 
 are usually defined. If we regard the meaning which is 
 assigned to them as complete and exhaustive, then we 
 must admit that they are irreconcilable with each other. 
 But in all candor, is it not too much to claim that human 
 reason has fathomed the nature of the infinite, and com- 
 prehended in full all that is really involved in personality, 
 for it to pronounce dogmatically on the possibility or im- 
 possibility of their coexistence ? After all, what we really 
 know in these directions is very vague and shadowy and 
 much too indefinite for us to found a coherent and consist- 
 ent system on. They who take the trouble to read Sir 
 W. Hamilton, and Dean Mansel, and the replies which 
 have been made to their metaphysical theories by Mr. Mill 
 and Mr. Spencer, must be convinced that while we un- 
 doubtedly know that the infinite is, we do not know in 
 any true sense what it is. As Dr. Porter says of one of 
 the terms in debate: "Originally, and etymologically, it 
 signifies freed from, or severed. This signification is 
 purely negative, and waits to be explained by that from 
 which it is freed." That our knowledge is not complete, 
 accurate, scientific and sufficiently reliable to serve as a 
 basis for an unyielding, positive theory has never been 
 more fully demonstrated than by Spinoza himself. He 
 writes: "I understand by God the Absolutely Infinite 
 Being; that is to say, substance constituted by an infinity 
 of attributes, each of which expresses an eternal and in- 
 finite essence." {Ethics, p. 4. Van Nostrand's edition.) 
 But may it not be asked, in all modesty, if God is abso- 
 lutely infinite, how comes it that He is "constituted"? 
 and if " substance " is constituted by an infinity of attri- 
 
70 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 butes, how is it possible for it to be what Spinoza himself 
 affirms it to be, " that which exists of itself, and is con- 
 ceived by and through itself, or that of which the concep- 
 tion can be formed without having need of the conception 
 of any other thing as its cause " ? Now it seems evident 
 to me, if God is substance, and if substance is that " the 
 conception of which does not involve the conception of 
 any other thing," then He is not " constituted by an in- 
 finity of attributes"; but if He is thus constituted, then 
 He is not " that which is in itself, and is conceived by 
 itself," and therefore He is not absolute, or absolutely 
 infinite. Thus, following these contradictory statements, 
 we arrive at the conclusion that even Spinoza could not 
 define infinity without destroying it, and that therefore to 
 erect a house on a foundation so unsubstantial is to pro- 
 vide in advance for its utter demolition. 
 
 Let the unconquerableness of our ignorance on this 
 point be conceded, and let it also be granted that God's 
 personality should not be likened, in every respect, to our 
 own, but should be taken as simply denoting that He is 
 separable from His works, and is wise, loving, merciful 
 and free, and we shall at least feel the difficulty of recon- 
 ciliation so far abated that it will cease to be insuperable. 
 If we are not prepared to do this we shall assuredly do 
 worse; we shall rashly sacrifice His perfection in our zeal 
 for His infinitude; for an impersonal Deity can never be 
 other than an imperfect one. To deny His supreme con- 
 sciousness, wisdom, volition and sovereignty, as is done by 
 Pantheism, is to rob Him of what we cannot but regard 
 as among His chiefest glories. That devout instinct which 
 prompts us to acknowledge Him as infinite, impels us to 
 ascribe to Him the attributes of intelligence, and stripped 
 of these He is destitute of what most powerfully affects 
 the human soul for good. If He cannot be conceived as 
 thinking, willing, decreeing, then all of His manifestations 
 
THE IMPERFECT INFINITE. 71 
 
 of Himself must be thought of as determined by some- 
 thing else, — some omnipotent necessity, some all-govern- 
 ing law, or some self-unfolding and self-sustaining force — 
 so that, in reality, He ceases to be Supreme; and thus in 
 our extreme solicitude for impersonalism we render im- 
 possible His Godhood. 
 
 But Pantheism assails His perfection at other points. 
 If He is identified with the. universe, then He is mobile, 
 mutable and variable, and is in a state of perpetual 
 flux and change. As there has been development in 
 nature, so if He is one with it, there has been develop- 
 ment in God. He is not, according to this supposition, 
 what He has been, and is not what He will be, and there- 
 fore has not yet fully attained to what He may be, and 
 must be. It is not correct then, if this theory is admissi- 
 ble, ever to say that God is, but that He is becoming; for 
 what He is now He was not at an earlier stage in the his- 
 tory of the universe, and what He will be at a later period 
 He has not been heretofore. This is not a caricature of 
 the doctrine we are considering, for it is but another way 
 of putting the statement already quoted, in which God is 
 represented as arriving at self-consciousness in man. But 
 such a conception is irreconcilable with the idea of per- 
 fection; for if, as Schelling says, "there is one force, one 
 alternating agency, one weaving, one impulse, one tend- 
 ency toward ever higher life," while it may be attained 
 in the future it has never been reached in the past; and 
 until it is attained, if we worship at all we are worshiping 
 the Imperfect. It was the recognition of this outcome of 
 Pantheistic premises that led M. Saisset indignantly to 
 exclaim: "Away from me, vain phantoms of the imagina- 
 tion! God is eternally all that He is. If He is the Cre- 
 ator, He creates eternally. If He creates the world, it is 
 not from chance or caprice, but for reasons worthy of 
 Himself; and these reasons are eternal." Yes, as the 
 
72 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Scriptures teach, He is forever the same, and " His years 
 have no end." 
 
 This criticism may legitimately be carried yet further; 
 for if impersonalism is true, and God and the universe are 
 convertible terms, then everything that exists, evil as well 
 as good, wrong as well as right, impurity as well as purity, 
 must be ascribed to Him, — must be traced to His nature, 
 and be found in His essence. While we witness in the 
 world much that is deserving admiration and homage, we 
 cannot fail also to perceive much to fill us with pain and 
 loathing. Deceitfulness, violence, cruelty, heartlessness, 
 viciousness, licentiousness, lawlessness, — these rage and 
 riot, filling the earth with bitterness and woe. From 
 them the healthy mind shrinks with anguish and horror; 
 it condemns the guilty, and seeks to restrain the malig- 
 nant power of wickedness. But in this, if we are to credit 
 Pantheism, it is wasting an immense amount of feeling; 
 for that which kindles its indignation, after all, is only 
 an expression of the Supreme whom we are bound to 
 worship. Wrong doing, and every species of abomination, 
 we must regard, in the light of this philosophy, as Divine 
 effluxions, and therefore as unmeriting condemnation. 
 But is it possible to think of such a Being as absolutely 
 faultless? And is it possible, when we regard the neces- 
 sary strife between good and evil as an actual warfare 
 in His own members, — for such it is if both spring 
 from His nature, and are equally its counterpart, — not 
 to conclude that whatever else may be affirmed of Him, 
 perfection certainly can not. Verily, when God is set 
 forth as everything, He rapidly degenerates into noth- 
 ing; when He is sought everywhere, at last He is found 
 nowhere; and when He is refined into impersonal Infinity, 
 He speedily becomes imperfection, unlimited and incalcu- 
 lable. 
 
 The sense of responsibility is inseparable from man- 
 
MORAL LIBERTY. 73 
 
 hood, and the recognition of individuality is inseparable 
 from responsibility. But if, as this Ism teaches, humanity 
 is but part of the Universal Soul, and particular men but 
 rays of the all-pervading Spirit, then individuality is prac- 
 tically annihilated, and with it falls everything that sug- 
 gests the idea of moral freedom and obligation. Spinoza 
 does not shrink from avowing this as his belief. He says 
 explicitly: "Free will is a chimera, nattering to our pride 
 and in reality founded upon our ignorance. All that I can 
 say to those who believe that they can, by virtue of any 
 free decision of the soul, speak or be silent, — or, to use a 
 single word, act, — is that they dream with their eyes 
 open." Ignorance! dreams! — Is there, then, nothing but 
 fallacy reigning in the vast domain of right and wrong? 
 Let us take an appeal from such a suspicion to fact 
 and we shall find that there is nothing more real than the 
 consciousness of "the me" in distinction from "the thee," 
 and of "the thine" in contradistinction to "the mine," — 
 terms with which the sense of moral duty is indissolubly 
 blended. We do not and we cannot, unless it be sympa- 
 thetically, identify ourselves with each other, and no effort 
 of the imagination succeeds in making us feel that we are 
 absolutely one with Deity. He may influence us, dwell in 
 us even, but we never fail to distinguish between His 
 existence and our own, and His operation is never con- 
 founded with our own volition. We discriminate instinct- 
 ively and uniformly between the Temple and the Being 
 who dwells there, and between His inspiration and our 
 own action. No amount of philosophy or theology has 
 ever eradicated, or even seriously diminished, this sense 
 of individuality, and we may conclude that its vitality is 
 due to the fact that it answers to an unimpeachable real- 
 ity. In no other way can it be intelligibly explained, and 
 any system that antagonizes with it must in the nature of 
 things be radically erroneous. It will not be denied that 
 
74 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 obligation is a fiction, a morbid illusion, unless each man 
 is a complete and separate existence. If he is not, then 
 everything- like moral conviction is a chimera, a deceitful 
 hallucination. But is it not strange that such an ignis 
 fatuus and fantastic mirage as this, if such it is, should 
 have proven so incalculably advantageous to society, and 
 should have led it forward step by step, as this has done, 
 in the march of progress? Indeed, it is more than strange, 
 it is unaccountable. Fancies, imaginations, are not the 
 weapons by which the real evils of life are overcome, and 
 illusions have never yet cleared the way for permanent 
 advancement. Believe me, there is something more in 
 this abiding sense of responsibility than the Pantheist will 
 allow. It is, and endures, because man is a being, not 
 an effluence, and is related to other beings, and is not so 
 identified with them, or merged into them, that reciprocal 
 rights are meaningless and reciprocal duties impossible. 
 Obligation rests on individuality, and the realization of 
 the one will be proportionate to the consciousness of the 
 other; and if this is a true account of the matter the 
 theory that strikes at either must be fatally defective. 
 And that it is may be inferred from sentiments expressed 
 by brilliant men who are more or less influenced by Spi- 
 noza's teachings. For instance, Goethe, in his Hymn to 
 Nature, seeks to pacify his conscience in the following 
 convenient way: "She placed me in it; she will also lead 
 me forth. I trust myself to her. She may dispose of me. 
 She will not hate her work. I spake not of her. No: 
 whatever is true and whatever is false she spake it all. 
 All is her fault and all her merit." Thus does the roman- 
 tic German dispose of troublesome misgivings concerning 
 accountability. And our American transcendentalist gives 
 it as his opinion that " Nature as we know her is no 
 saint." "The lights of the church, the ascetics, Gentoos 
 and Grahamites, she does not distinguish by any favor; 
 
MORALITY AND VIRTUE. 75 
 
 she comes eating and drinking and sinning." . . . "My 
 friend suggested: 'But these impulses may be from below, 
 not from above.' I replied, 'They do not seem to me to 
 be such, but if I am the devil's child I will live, then, for 
 the devil. No law can be sacred to me but that of my 
 own nature.'" The tendency of such sentiments as these, 
 and they are creeping into our literature more persistently 
 and commonly than many suspect, cannot be at all doubt- 
 ful. However harmless they may have been to their au- 
 thors, if generally adopted and acted on by the unedu- 
 cated and miseducated masses of society, they would 
 speedily convert them into the children of Satan, and 
 change this beautiful earth of ours into a howling Pande- 
 monium. 
 
 In one of the propositions brought to your attention at 
 the beo-irmino- of this discussion I ventured a statement 
 which draws a wide distinction between morality and vir- 
 tue. These terms, I know, are usually regarded as syno- 
 nyms, and yet, admitting that they are, it does not follow 
 that they are identical in meaning. They may present, as 
 I believe they do, very different shades of the same thought. 
 "Morality," in my opinion, suggests right conduct; but 
 the word "virtue" expresses the real worth and merit 
 which attaches to such conduct. A man may be moral in 
 all of his dealings, and be influenced only by a cold, calcu- 
 lating spirit of policy, or he may, in all that he does, be 
 but a fortunate creature of circumstances. There is, how- 
 ever, no strength of conviction in such a course of life, no 
 firmness of principle, no resistance of evil; in a word, no 
 "strength," — an element which the term "virtue" always 
 implies. If this is absent from what we call moral con- 
 duct, its chief charm is gone, and we are inclined to treat 
 its pretensions with contempt. Probably this estimate 
 springs from the fact that the presence of the high quality 
 which imparts grandeur to conduct involves selfhood, the 
 
76 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 exercise of volition, the assertion of liberty. Without 
 freedom there could be no choice of a path in life, no pur- 
 suit of the right in the face of difficulties, and no resistance 
 of wrong even at immense personal sacrifice; and so with- 
 out freedom there would in reality be no virtue; and with- 
 out virtue there would hardly be anything in morality to 
 distinguish it from mere decorum. Permit me to illustrate 
 this distinction yet further. Let us suppose the case of 
 one so rigidly trained in the practice of integrity, so care- 
 fully shielded from temptation, and so free, from childhood, 
 of everything like human appetite, or passionate desire, 
 that never a thought of wandering occurs, and never an 
 inclination to err is felt; the life of such an one would be 
 admirable, and would kindle our esteem, but . it would 
 never arouse in us enthusiasm and ardent praise. The 
 morality in it would be acknowledged, and would be duly 
 and apathetically approved, but it would not be regarded 
 as exhibiting the grand reality of virtue. Such blameless- 
 ness must be viewed as natural, and therefore as unavoida- 
 ble, and if unavoidable, as undeserving of any special com- 
 mendation. But when a soul, like Plato's suffering right- 
 eous man, is surrounded with circumstances unfavorable 
 to right-doing, when he is beset with evils of every de- 
 scription, when he is afflicted, crushed and wronged, and 
 yet never deviates from the straight line of duty, we 
 instinctively recognize something higher than mechanical 
 morality, something exalted and noble, challenging our 
 homage and awakening our reverence. We see that such 
 an one might have been expected to yield to these over- 
 whelming odds, and when he overcomes, we discern the 
 power of volition, of freedom; w T e recognize a sublime 
 "strength" asserting itself on the side of integrity, and 
 we call that strength " virtue; " and in it we feel that our 
 highest ideal of virtue is actualized. But suppose such 
 choice were never possible; suppose that human beings 
 
PANTHEISTIC IMMORTALITY. 77 
 
 were always creatures of necessity; that the good they 
 performed was simply the result of forces in them, unorigi- 
 nated or uncontrolled by themselves; then at the best 
 their morality would hardly be distinguishable from im- 
 morality. If Pantheism is true, this is actually the case. 
 There being nothing but God, and God being everything, 
 human volition is not in any real sense free, and con- 
 sequently, while there may be outwardly correct conduct, 
 virtue in its deepest sense is unattainable. This Spinoza 
 candidly admits. " Nothing," he says, " is bad in itself. 
 Good and evil indicate nothing positive in things, consid- 
 ered in themselves, and are nothing but manners of think- 
 ing. Not only has every man the right to seek his good, 
 his pleasure, but he cannot do otherwise." — Works of 
 Spinoza, vol. i, pp. 159-60. 
 
 What shall we say, then, to a system which, in its in- 
 sane endeavors to establish a metaphysical subtlety, — to 
 uphold a conception which may be as baseless as it is per- 
 plexing, — deliberately undermines the foundations of vir- 
 tue and deprives society of its mightiest incentives to 
 noble living ? We can only say that, as its speculations 
 antagonize with what is eminently practical and vital, how- 
 ever sublime they may seem they are self-condemned, and 
 are undeserving of support. 
 
 What a fiction is the immortality which Pantheism 
 encourages its disciples to expect. To return to the uni- 
 versal soul, to be swallowed up in the Infinite, to be 
 merged in the Supreme, to lose identity and conscious- 
 ness, is the destiny it suavely proclaims. It is a euphonic 
 description of annihilation, and nothing more. What dis- 
 cernible difference is there between this blank eternity 
 and the coarse teachings of Materialism ? According to 
 both, the light that is in us must go out, and we return 
 to the oblivion whence we came. The Materialist fore- 
 shadows a future for us all in the dewy grass, to be 
 
78 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 munched by the lowing herd; in the fragrant flowers, 
 to be trampled under foot of men; in the swift sailing, 
 evanescent cloud, or in the varied forms of animal and 
 human life. We are to reappear in the coming genera- 
 tions, and our decay is to nourish their vitality. The 
 Pantheist teaches that we shall go back, not indeed to 
 the dull earth, but to what he is pleased to call " God." 
 In Him we shall happily cease to think, to love, and to be. 
 The dewdrop shall mingle with the Sea, the wandering ray 
 shall be withdrawn into the bosom of primal Light, and 
 the little ego be quenched in the all-absorbing and ever- 
 lasting "I Am" of the universe. And, according to 
 Emerson, all human beings, of whatever moral character, 
 shall equally attain to this questionable felicity; for "the 
 divine effort is never relaxed; the carrion in the sun will 
 convert itself into grass and flowers, and man, though in 
 brothels, in jails, or on gibbets, is on his way to all that 
 is truly good." 
 
 But this self-oblivion and self-extinction in the Infinite 
 One is not the intuitive hope of humanity, nor is it the 
 promise of Revelation. The natural longing of the heart 
 is for personal immortality, — for endless conscious exist- 
 ence. This is what is meant by all that poets and phi- 
 losophers, untainted by Pantheism, have written on the 
 subject, and this is what the unuttered and unutterable 
 visions of the Beyond mean to the undying soul. To 
 live continuously, to defy the power of death, to ascend 
 to higher ranges of existence, to meet the great and good 
 who have gone before, to welcome the noble and the pure 
 who shall come after, and to enjoy eternally the fellow- 
 ship of the saved, — this is the radiant hope that sustains 
 us here and invests hereafter with its charm and glory. 
 Why should we thrust it from us? Why should we for 
 a moment listen to the doleful croaking of a Strauss, who, 
 shrouded in "the blanket of the dark," mutters harshly 
 
THE TRUE THEISM. 79 
 
 "that the last enemy to be destroyed is not death, but the 
 • hope of immortality ? " Why accept such dreary forebod- 
 ings and deny the profoundest instinct of our being for 
 the sake of a mere abstraction ? Why doubt the reality of 
 the immortality we feel for the sake of a guess about the 
 nature of the Infinite, which we cannot verify ? Too much 
 is asked, too little is given in return; and when it is real- 
 ized that eternal life must be repudiated, and virtue, in- 
 dividuality, and even Divine perfection, must be sacrificed 
 if the truth of Pantheism is allowed, we do not hesitate 
 to declare that the vastness of its demands should be suf- 
 ficient proof to every candid mind of its untenableness. 
 
 In closing this study permit me to set before you two 
 additional propositions which in my judgment express the 
 only Theism that is rational and deserving the confidence 
 of intelligent beings: 
 
 First, God is the source of nature, not its essence; 
 and nature is the manifestation of God, not His fullness. 
 
 Second, God is the inspiration of humanity, not its 
 soul; and humanity is the similitude of God, not His sub- 
 stance. 
 
 The first of these propositions asserts a difference be- 
 tween the Creator and His work. Schellino- declares that 
 
 o 
 
 "all individual finite things taken together cannot consti- 
 tute God, since that which is in nature derived cannot be 
 one with its original." This is just what I believe, and 
 consequently I see in the great universe a revelation of its 
 author, but not His substance nor His essence. He is 
 above all, back of all, and through all the reality of His 
 being and the greatness of His Godhead may be seen. 
 Nature is His temple, and it is like that one of glass which 
 the sun-worshipers built that their deity might stream in 
 and be with them; it is transparent, and through its walls 
 and through its starry roof He reveals Himself, as the light 
 penetrates and shines through the flinty crystal. There is 
 
80 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 something that beams on you from the flower, that sparkles 
 in the water, that gleams in the sun's radiance, and in the 
 moon's quiet luster; something that oppresses you, and yet 
 exalts you in the gigantic magnitudes of the heavens, and 
 in the dense forests and overpowering solitudes of the earth, 
 which does not answer to the names you invent to describe 
 it. You call it "beauty," or "sublimity," or "grandeur," 
 but you feel that these terms are inadequate, that they 
 fall short of truth. Call it God! Yes, call it God! for 
 God it is. It is His eyes that look down upon you from 
 the stars, His smile that glances at you from flower and 
 wave, His love that answers yours in every form of beauty, 
 and His awful greatness that appeals to you in the won- 
 ders of the universe. " If," as said the Psalmist, " I 
 ascend up into heaven, Thou art there; if I make my bed 
 in hell, behold Thou art there. If I take the wings of the 
 morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even 
 there shall Thy hand lead me." Yes, there, and there, and 
 there — everywhere. But this is not Pantheism. The 
 Almighty is not heaven, but in heaven; not hades, but in 
 hades; not the uttermost parts of the sea, but filling them 
 with His immeasurable presence and unspeakable majesty. 
 "Of God, and through Him and to Him are all things;" 
 and nature that sprang from His thought, and is sustained 
 by His power, is also "to Him," — is His symbol, the 
 manifold expression of His greatness. Before Him she 
 breathes the incense of her homage, and offers to Him the 
 tribute of her praise. She points to Him, and with her 
 many voices cries that to Him, not to her, — not to the 
 temple, but to the God who fashioned it and dwells in it, 
 — should all people bring their offerings of adoring love. 
 
 Though the Almighty is not the soul of humanity He 
 is its inspiration, for " in God we live and move and have 
 our being." Each living thinking entity is His creation, 
 made for Himself and related to Him. He moves upon 
 
THE TRUE PANTHEISM. 81 
 
 mind and heart, begetting exalted thoughts and holiest 
 resolves, even as it is written, "The inspiration of the 
 Almighty giveth understanding." He is the real source 
 of whatever has been, of whatever is great, good, noble or 
 heroic in mind and deed. Without Him cannot anything 
 be done that is worthy to live in the memory of earth, or 
 worthy to receive the reward of heaven. And yet the 
 doing is ours, not His. He inspired it, we wrought it out. 
 He quickened, but we brought forth. His the heart-beat, 
 but ours the hand-stroke; His the influence, ours the efflu- 
 ence. Here man's true dignity is made apparent. It does 
 not consist in his being a fraction of the Godhead, but in 
 being a distinct existence, made so truly in the Divine 
 image that he can hold communion with his Maker, can 
 respond to the infinite One, can receive Him, abide in 
 Him, and live in correspondence with Him, — yea, and can 
 grow yet more fully into His likeness, and blend so com- 
 pletely with His spirit, that while personality is never 
 lost, He becomes to the soul its All and in All forever. 
 
 "Know ye not that ye are the temple of the living 
 God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them and walk in 
 them, and I will be their God and they shall be my peo- 
 ple"; and know ye not "he who dwelleth in love dwelleth 
 in God, and God in him?" When humanity shall deeply 
 realize the truth of these declarations, conscious of its 
 heavenly affinities, it will seek closer fellowship with the 
 Highest, and attaining to that oneness for which our 
 Savior prayed, it will apprehend the only Pantheism in 
 which reason can believe or the heart rejoice, — the Pan- 
 theism which leads the devout soul to sing, with Madam 
 Guy on : 
 
 " I am as nothing, and rejoice to be, 
 Emptied and lost, and swallowed up in Thee," 
 
 and which is alike synonymous with individual identity 
 and immortal blessedness. 
 6 
 
MATERIALISM. 
 
 " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." I Cor. a?©, 32. 
 
 " For everywhere 
 We're too materialistic, — eating clay 
 (Like men of the West) instead of Adam's corn 
 And Noah's wine ; clay by handfuls, clay by lumps, 
 Until we're filled up to the throat with clay, 
 And grow the grimy color of the ground 
 On which we are feeding. Ay, materialist 
 The age's name is. God Himself with some 
 Is apprehended as the bare result 
 Of what His hand materially has made." 
 
 Mrs. E. B. Browning. 
 
 A FABLE is current in England of a youth who 
 picked up a piece of money lying in the highway. 
 After this good fortune it is said he always kept his eyes 
 fixed on the ground, hoping to find stray coins, and in the 
 course of a long life gathered from the road and street 
 quite an amount of gold, silver and copper. But during 
 all this time he w T as depriving himself of greater treasures. 
 As his glance never wandered from the dusty, filthy way 
 of his feet, he never saw the starry heavens above him nor 
 the glories of nature's scenery around him. He died poor. 
 Though he had scraped together considerable w 7 ealth he 
 passed into eternity without knowing that earth is some- 
 thing more than a dirty place where money may be found 
 as the journey is made from the cradle to the grave. 
 
 For now some years gone Science has been disposed to 
 walk with its eyes down-bent. Ever since it made a few 
 important physical discoveries, such as the antiquity of the 
 
MATERIALISM DEFINED. 83 
 
 globe, the procession and progress of life, and brought to 
 light the petrified memorials of former animal and veg- 
 etable generations, such as the siliceous fossil shells of the 
 Galionelli, some interesting specimens of the Ichthyosaura, 
 the Plesiosaura, Mosasaurus and the Iguanodon, its gaze 
 has been steadfastly centered on the material. Upon that it 
 has lavished so much attention that the universe has come 
 in its philosophy to be the child of cosmic sparks, and 
 reason to be the grandchild of diffused fire-mist. It is still 
 busy looking for additional discoveries, feeling in the mire 
 for wealth. But though it multiply its riches, it is grow- 
 ing poorer and poorer, for it is losing sight of God, Christ, 
 angels, providence and immortality, and is groping its way 
 through the world blind to the real glory and significance 
 of creation, failing to discern that nature is the real 
 Jacob's ladder on which celestial beings are ascending and 
 descending, a Patmos isle in an unshored ocean, where 
 visions of invisible realms shine through all its manifold 
 shapes and forms. 
 
 It is not necessary to trace the rise and progress of 
 this Ism from the time of Leucippus, Democritus and Epi- 
 curus to Feuerbach and La Mettrie, and from them to our 
 more modern evolutionists. Whatever peculiarities or 
 variations may have distinguished it at various points in 
 its history, it has always been substantially the same. 
 It has ever regarded the raw eternal matter, the elemen- 
 tary stuff of creation, as the only substance and as the 
 all-sufficient cause of every variety and species of life. 
 Its god, formerly dwarfed to the meager proportions of 
 an atom, is now further dwindled to the insignificance 
 of a molecule; it is, however, the same deity, only grown 
 infinitely little. While it recognizes a scepter, which 
 it calls "force," it acknowledges no intelligent hand to 
 sway it; while it perceives a throne, which it honors with 
 the name of "law," no loving, infinite Being is seen to 
 
84 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 reign there, and while in original chaos it finds a compli- 
 cated laboratory it discerns no all-wise chemist regulating 
 and determining its subtle and mysterious combinations, 
 from which universes proceed. Materialism, old and new, 
 when stripped of its rhetoric, simply writes " mindless" 
 on the dateless procession of things, and teaches that 
 these things come from nowhere, as they are eternal; are 
 marching nowhither, as they are practically endless, and 
 that over them is nobody, as they are self-fashioned and 
 self-sustained. As Lucretius is reported to have ex- 
 pressed it, " Nature is seen to do all these things spon- 
 taneously of herself, without the meddling of the gods." 
 And man is looked on as earth-begotten, earth-bound, 
 and earth-destined; and his sublimer and deeper aspira- 
 tions and affinities are belittled or ignored. 
 
 Unquestionably these teachings are exerting a tremen- 
 dous influence on our times. Our relations with the visi- 
 ble are so intimate, our susceptibility to its impressions so 
 keen, our bodily demands so imperative, and the dominion 
 of our senses so absolute, that we are strongl} r drawn 
 toward whatever promises to minister to the sway of the 
 physical. Shakspeare wrote: 
 
 " There's not the smallest orb that thou behold'st 
 But in his motion like an angel sings, 
 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubim : 
 Such harmony is in immortal souls, 
 But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
 Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it." 
 
 That is, we are so wrapped about with the heavy folds 
 of dull earthiness that we cannot always detect the music 
 of the spiritual within, nor catch its echoes in the uni- 
 verse without. We are, therefore, liable to be imposed 
 on by materialistic philosophy, and to yield submission 
 when it should be questioned and resisted. It has an 
 ally in man himself, in the dominancy of the physical, 
 
MATERIAL PROGRESS. 85 
 
 which may account for its present prevalent potency. 
 And very likely the character of our civilization itself 
 has enhanced its power. Wherever we turn we find 
 matter triumphant. Science has laid bare the vastness 
 of its magnitudes, has subordinated its forces to human 
 service, and has rendered possible the magnificent achieve- 
 ments of machinery which lighten labor and promote in- 
 dustry. We talk along wires, we fly along rails, we hear 
 through our teeth, we almost see without eyes, and even 
 the supposition of Dr. Bowen may become actual in the 
 future, — skill may be able to construct a wooden footman 
 whose " exact and unvarying obedience may be more than 
 could be expected of any but a superhuman footman." If 
 it would only give us such a Bridget, in these days of 
 maid-servant supremacy, our joy indeed would be full. 
 Who knows ? A new aim or ambition has been developed 
 by the successes of science, and instead of seeking prima- 
 rily the culture of soul, we are concerned with the con- 
 quest and improvement of nature. Everywhere we are 
 digging, delving, mining, projecting railroads, compassing 
 seas, reclaiming lands, and making everything tributary 
 to man's temporal gratification and comfort. For six days 
 in the week we are devoted to the interests of matter, 
 and begrudge a small portion of the seventh in which to 
 consider the claims of spirit. Is it not, then, probable 
 that this undue prominence given to one aspect of the 
 universe blinds us to the reality of any other, and dis- 
 poses us to give heed to a philosophy whose terms ex- 
 clude everything else? 
 
 Whether I have guessed the true explanation of the 
 present widespread influence of materialism others must 
 judge; but there can be no doubt that its extent is such 
 that earnest words must be spoken, and earnest efforts 
 be made, if society is to be saved from bondage to the 
 sensuous, and inspired anew with belief in the supersensu- 
 
8G ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ous and immortal. As contributing to this end, I suggest 
 the following propositions for thoughtful consideration: 
 
 First, Materialism is too imaginative to be either sci- 
 entific or reasonable. 
 
 Second, Materialism is too debasing to be either credi- 
 ble or attractive. 
 
 Third, Materialism is too impoverishing to be either 
 probable or possible. 
 
 The assumptions of this Ism are numerous and bold. It 
 asserts that matter is the only substance in the universe, 
 or at least the only substance of which we have any defi- 
 nite knowledge, or about which we can argue with cer- 
 tainty. For its teachings, consequently, it claims implicit 
 confidence as being necessarily beyond cavil and dis- 
 pute. But surely it forgets that very wise men have 
 questioned the reality of this visible world to which it 
 is so attached, and of which it makes so much. The 
 idealism of Berkeley, grounded in the non-existence and 
 impossibility of external nature, and the belief of Faraday 
 in the immateriality of physical objects, go far toward 
 proving that this boasted certainty is somewhat uncertain, 
 and that the definite, after all, is very indefinite. As Pro- 
 fessor B. Stewart, in his Conservation of Energy, says: 
 " The universe has more than one point of view, and there 
 are possibly regions which will not yield their treasures to 
 the most determined physicists, armed only with kilo- 
 grammes, and meters, and standard clocks; " and in anoth- 
 er place he adds: "We know nothing, or next to nothing, 
 of the ultimate structure and properties of matter, whether 
 organic or inorganic." If he is warranted in this state- 
 ment, how purely fanciful is the assertion that substance 
 is one, and that it is the only, source of positive knowl- 
 edge. And if this primary assumption is questionable, 
 what shall be said of the second, that matter is capable, 
 through its inalienable properties, of evolving inorganic 
 
SUPERSTITION AND SCIENCE. 87 
 
 forms, developing, also, organic life or growth, and even of 
 originating thought ? Here, assuredly, we have a tremen- 
 dous stretch of the imagination. The ancient savage, in 
 the dense depths of native ignorance, made to himself a 
 mud fetich, and attributed to it divine energies. We smile 
 at his infantile superstition, and we wonder that he could 
 believe for a moment that a wretched heap of plastic filth 
 could call into being the beauties and utilities of creation. 
 But according to the Ism we are studying, this primitive 
 superstition is the ultimate goal of science. Extremes 
 meet. The savage and the scientist clasp hands, and the 
 end of investigation is found at the beginning. It began 
 with the worship of mud; it is ending with unworshiped, 
 but deified, molecules. Wherein is the difference ? Why 
 shall we stigmatize the faith of the savage as puerile, and 
 yet honor the theory of the scientist with encomiums, as 
 though it were the expression of the highest wisdom ? Are 
 they not substantially the same ? 
 
 While the essence of matter defies our scrutiny, for 
 the sake of proving that it is capable of producing all 
 that we see and feel, its simple and primary definition 
 has been gradually enlarged. New qualities have been 
 constantly ascribed to it, and as Dr. James Martineau 
 quaintly says, " starting as a beggar, with scarce a rag of 
 1 property ' to cover its bones, it turns up as a prince when 
 large undertakings are wanted, loaded with investments, 
 and within an inch of a plenipotentiary." On which 
 remarkable phenomenon he adds, addressing believers in 
 its almost boundless resources: "In short, you give it 
 precisely what you require to take from it; and when 
 your definition has made it ' pregnant with all the future,' 
 there is no wonder if from it all the future might be 
 born." But the endeavors that have been put forth in this 
 direction have never succeeded in making out that in each 
 separate atom resides every force, every quality, every sen- 
 
88 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 sation known to thought, yea, and thought itself, combined 
 with consciousness by which thought is recognized^ and 
 anything short of this is fatal to the trustworthiness of the 
 theory in debate; for the aggregate can never be more 
 than an expression of the unit, and the whole can never 
 manifest what is not potentially in the parts. Locke wit- 
 nesses to the validity of this position in the following 
 words : " Whatsoever is first of all things must necessa- 
 rily contain in it, and actually have, at least all the perfec- 
 tions that can ever after exist; nor can it ever give to 
 another any perfection that it hath not actually in itself, 
 or at least in a higher degree; it necessarily follows that 
 the first eternal Being cannot be matter." The advocates 
 of materialism, in their reasoning, constantly overlook this 
 axiom, than which there is none more generally approved 
 by philosophy. They are unable to show that whatever is 
 in the effect was first in the cause, — that is, in the cause 
 which they assign, — and, consequently, they are shut up 
 to the illogical inference that there is something in the 
 effect which is traceable to no cause whatever. We can- 
 not believe that the greater springs from the less, or that 
 something comes from nothing; and until we are convinced 
 that our incredulity on this point is irrational, the explana- 
 tion of the universe which assumes that the organic pro- 
 ceeded from the inorganic, order from disorder, life from 
 death, and thought from molecular motions, we must re- 
 gard as fanciful, possibly seductive, but very imaginative, 
 and certainly immeasurably less reasonable than that which 
 attributes all things to an infinitely intelligent and sov- 
 ereign Spirit. 
 
 The assumption of Herbert Spencer that the ego, or 
 conscious self, is merely "a group of psychical states con- 
 stituting an impulse," and that of such writers as Mole- 
 schott and Buchner that thought is determined and con- 
 ditioned by phosphorus, can hardly be considered other 
 
MECHANICAL THEORY OF THOUGHT. 89 
 
 than whimsical extravagances of facetious science. Their 
 advocates, however, at times seem to be serious enough. 
 Mr. Huxley, for instance, appears to be very much in 
 earnest when, in writing to Macmillarts Magazine in 
 1878, he says: "I believe that we shall arrive at a me- 
 chanical equivalent of consciousness, just as we have ar- 
 rived at a mechanical equivalent of heat," and adds: "even 
 those manifestations of intelligence and feeling which we 
 rightly name the higher faculties are not excluded from 
 this classification." But when the famous protoplasmist, 
 in his Lay Sermons, confesses that how "anything so re- 
 markable as a state of consciousness comes about as the 
 result of irritating nervous tissue, is just as unaccountable 
 as the appearance of the Djin when Aladdin rubbed his 
 lamp," we half suspect him of indulging in a little sly 
 humor at our expense when he penned the first of these 
 statements, as in the second he seems to attach as much 
 value to it as he does to one of the Arabian Nights' mar- 
 velous stories. Certainly they are not altogether consist- 
 ent with each other, and on the authority of his Lay Ser- 
 mon we may with propriety question the soundness of his 
 doctrine in the magazine, and from the bearing of both 
 conclude that the mechanical theory of thought is but a 
 wild speculation, incapable of verification. 
 
 Such writers as Dr. Maudsley soberly enough maintain 
 that " the nerve-cells, which exist in countless numbers — 
 about six hundred millions according to Meynert's calcula- 
 tions — in the gray matter spread over the surface of the 
 hemispheres, are the nervous centers of ideas;" or, accord* 
 ing to the explanations given by others, " thought is a func- 
 tion of the brain, and brain secretes thought as the liver 
 secretes bile." It is undeniable that a most intimate rela- 
 tion exists between mental phenomena and the brain. No 
 one familiar with the literature on the subject would think 
 of calling it in question. The brain seems to be in some 
 
90 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 way the organ of mind, but to identify them, or to assume 
 that there is nothing but brain, or that it alone is the 
 source of thought, is in my judgment to transgress the 
 modesty of true science. This also seems to be the opin- 
 ion of Professor Tyndall. In his Fragments of Science 
 he expresses himself on this subject in these terms: "In 
 affirming that the growth of the body is mechanical, and 
 that thought, as exercised by us, has its correlative in the 
 physics of the brain, I think the position of the Materialist 
 is stated, as far as that position is a tenable one." . . . 
 " I do not think that he is entitled to say that his molec- 
 ular groupings and his molecular motions explain every- 
 thing. In reality they explain nothing. The utmost he 
 can affirm is the association of two classes of phenomena, 
 of whose real bond of union he is in absolute ignorance. 
 The problem of the connection of body and soul is as in- 
 soluble in its modern form as it was in the prescient ific 
 ages." — pp. 119, 120. And it is well known that Vir- 
 chow, one of the most eminent of German scientists, when 
 opposing the proposition of Haeckel and Nageli that ma- 
 terialistic doctrines should be introduced into the system 
 of public instruction, said very decidedly: "So long as no 
 one can define for me the properties of carbon, hydrogen, 
 oxygen, and nitrogen in such a way that I can conceive 
 how, from the sum of them, a soul arises, so long am I 
 unable to admit that we should be at all justified in im- 
 porting the plastidulic soul into the course of our educa- 
 tion." 
 
 But, assuming that various and striking considerations 
 can be adduced in favor of what is called " Cerebral Psy- 
 chology," let us note whither it tends. For instance, on 
 this hypothesis the bulk of the head and the measure of 
 its contents, a healthy body being granted, ought to de- 
 cide the quality of a man's intellectual life. Pure blood 
 should be more needful than what we denominate educa- 
 
CEREBRAL PSYCHOLOGY. 91 
 
 tion. Physical organs should be nourished with substan- 
 tial food, not with ideas. What is it that we now attempt 
 to educate in our schools ? When we set about training 
 a boy, what portion of him is it that receives attention ? 
 Is it said that we try to cultivate the brain ? But, if so, 
 are we not employing singular methods ? We are actually 
 trying to build up, strengthen, and develop the material 
 through the immaterial. If this hypothesis is tenable we 
 should rather provide wholesome physical diet than innu- 
 tritious knowledge; and if Moleschott is right when he 
 says, " Ohne Phosphor ', Kein G-edanTse" then we should 
 feed phosphorus to our youth and cram them as full of 
 phosphorus as possible. And yet, were their heads as full 
 of it as the sea, it would be no guaranty of exceptional 
 brilliancy. Men who have been deprived of nourishing- 
 food, who have toiled m poverty, have conferred on the 
 race the most enduring triumphs of thought, and others, 
 like Milton, Spinoza, Cervantes, Bunyan, and Burns, pro- 
 duced their masterpieces when in pinched want or in deep 
 affliction; while many who w r ere reared in affluence, who 
 were both strong bodied and large headed, — and had all 
 the phosphorus they desired, — have continued to the end 
 mental drones. This ought not to be so if mechanical 
 cerebration is true, and it cannot be explained unless it 
 is acknowledged that the thinking subject is different 
 from brain-tissues and nerve-centers, and at times is capa- 
 ble of surmounting their imperfections. 
 
 And this is a conclusion to which we are impelled by 
 other considerations. Instinctively we discriminate be- 
 tween ourselves and our surroundings, and between 
 " something " which we regard as " self " from the body 
 in which it dwells. We are conscious of an existence 
 which does not change with the flux and flow of the phys- 
 ical, and which we identify as the same in age, manhood, 
 and vouth. Moreover, this " something" is able to an- 
 
92 ISMS OLD AND NEW, 
 
 tagonize with the body, to resist it and overcome it; and 
 in so doing feels a distinctness from it and a superiority 
 over it, and finds itself haunted with ideas of the 
 infinite, the impersonal, the absolute, the abstract, which 
 it in vain tries to trace to " the gray matter " of the brain 
 or to the outward forms of the universe. This " some- 
 thing " we call " soul," " spirit," perfectly distinguishable 
 from the other substance by its phenomena, and which is 
 conscious of its own existence and its own agency, and 
 which is therefore beyond the reach of doubt. To deny 
 its reality is to disregard the most unanswerable evi- 
 dence, and prefer the region of chimera for that of fact. 
 This is the judgment of many sober thinkers, and is ex- 
 pressed by " one of the most eminent physicists of Eng- 
 land," Prof. P. G. Tait, who, as quoted by Dr. Bowen in 
 Literary Gleanings, remarks: "To say that even the very 
 lowest forms of life, not to speak of its higher forms, still 
 less of volition and consciousness, can be fully explained 
 on physical principles alone — that is, by the mere relative 
 motions and interactions of portions of inanimate matter, 
 however refined and sublimated — is simply unscientific. 
 There is absolutely nothing known in physical science 
 which can lend the slightest support to such an idea." 
 Such principles certainly cannot account for the won- 
 derful aptitudes which distinguish some children, and 
 which under the circumstances cannot be ascribed to the 
 influence of education, such as the mathematical ability of 
 Pascal, which asserted itself when he was twelve years 
 old, as the musical genius of Mozart revealing itself in an 
 opera composed when he was only eight summers in the 
 world, or the artistic inspiration of West, or the military 
 instincts of Napoleon. Here we meet with a phenomenon 
 which " nothing known in physical science " can explain, 
 and which strengthens the conviction that this entire 
 theory is a day-dream, phantom, fiction of fairyland, a 
 
MIND IN ANIMALS. 93 
 
 rhapsody of visionary romancers and of scientific knights- 
 errant, which has no foundation in the empire of facts, 
 and should be discarded from the realm of faith unless it 
 should be accepted on the basis of " Credo quia ab- 
 surdwn." 
 
 Were its imaginativeness the only ground of objection 
 we could afford, perhaps, to treat it with indifference, but 
 unhappily it is debasing, and therefore its claims should be 
 seriously challenged. The effort recently made by Professor 
 Lindsay to identify the brute mind with the human is one 
 that tends to obscure, if not to lessen, the sense of moral 
 obligation, and to degrade the race to a lower level than 
 it occupies at present. He relates some wonderful stories 
 about animals, which could be matched with others 
 equally striking, and he leaves the impression, though he 
 does not aim to advocate any special doctrine, that man 
 differs only in degree, not in kind, from his humbler asso- 
 ciates. Interesting though his volumes are, they by no 
 means succeed in bridging the chasm that separates the 
 human from the animal. The inventive faculty, the pow- 
 ers of ratiocination and abstraction, the moral sense, and 
 the gift of language, are among the chief difficulties in the 
 way of such a result. In the Descent of Man we find 
 this discriminating objection: "A moral being is one who 
 is capable of comparing his past and future actions and 
 motives — of approving of some and disapproving of 
 others; and the fact that man is the one being who with 
 certainty can be thus designated makes the greatest of all 
 distinctions between him and the lower animals." Such 
 testimony from such a quarter ought to counteract the 
 effect of Dr. Lindsay's inconclusive effort to establish the 
 opposite view. And when it is realized that no adequate 
 explanation of either reason or speech can be given on his 
 hypothesis, it may be dismissed as untenable. Sussmilch, 
 in 1764, argued the impossibility of language without 
 
94 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 thought, and of thought without language; and if any- 
 such close connection exists between them as he main- 
 tained, then it is certain that, as all skill has failed to 
 teach animals to speak, for the mere automatic imitation 
 of sounds is not speech, what is called thought in the 
 brute and thought in the man are incapable of being clas- 
 sified together. The German whom Dr. Bowen quotes as 
 saying, " I will believe that animals have reason when one 
 of them tells me so," in reality disposes of the whole ques- 
 tion at issue; for when they find their tongue they will 
 have found reason, and when that comes to pass we may, 
 without discredit to our own intellect, acknowledge theirs. 
 In his anxiety to make good his position, Dr. Lindsay 
 says: "Even as regards man himself, it must be borne in 
 mind . . . that there are countless thousands — many 
 whole races — that are intellectually and morally the infe- 
 rior of many well-trained mammals, such as the chimpan- 
 zee, orang, dog, elephant, or horse," etc. But this is not a 
 fair and ingenuous statement of the case; for the savage 
 can hardly be found who entirely fails to feel the force 
 of "ought" and "ought not;" and there is no animal in 
 the world, however carefully trained, who knows anything 
 about them, or is in the least degree conscious of them. 
 But, after all, this is a question of capacity, not of train- 
 ing. Under the most scrupulous discipline the dog re- 
 mains a dog; up to a certain point he can be taught, 
 and beyond it he cannot go. A recent writer has repre- 
 sented the canine "as a candidate for humanity"; but it 
 may be safely T said that he has never yet succeeded in 
 securing an election. On the other hand, no limit can be 
 placed to man's development. He can advance indefi- 
 nitely, and from the lowest form of intellectual life rise to 
 the highest. The race has a capacity that is not shared 
 by the dog; individuals may possess it in different de- 
 grees as canine aptitudes differ, but the human nature, as 
 
MATERIALIZING LIFE. 95 
 
 such, is not to be classed with the brute nature, for even 
 in its degradation it is infinitely higher, as its possibilities 
 are infinitely greater. These comparisons, in my opinion, 
 are always to be deplored, not merely because they rank 
 some men lower than beasts, but because they leave the 
 impression on many that essentially they do not rank 
 above them. If, however, they are to be trusted, then 
 thought is automatic, volition is mechanical, and the ideas 
 of responsibility and duty are illusions; our noblest and 
 purest emotions are due to a highly sensitive sensorium 
 and a symmetrically arranged ganglia, and all that is 
 divine in man dies out. If, as has been maintained by an 
 English author, " the conduct of the elephant and of the 
 tiger depends on their structure, and so, therefore, does 
 that of man," then we must abandon the doctrine that he 
 has any will that can initiate action, we must abrogate the 
 ideas of guilt and innocence, and we should seek to edu- 
 cate him as we train other animals, by processes suited to 
 automata. No words can do justice to the degrading 
 influences of such teachings. They lead men to regard 
 themselves as creatures of necessity, whose actions are no 
 more praiseworthy or blameworthy than those of the cat 
 or dog, and they gradually stifle and smother the con- 
 sciousness of manhood, without which no heroic sacrifices 
 or generous deeds are possible. 
 
 As a result of this Ism we find that modern life is 
 pretty thoroughly materialized. Of those who are striv- 
 ing and struggling in this and other lands, how few there 
 are who have set before them any other object than the 
 accumulation of wealth.. For this they abandon home and 
 friends, spend sleepless nights and toilsome days, and en- 
 dure enough of pain, mortification and anguish to make 
 them martyrs in a holier cause. True, the desire for gain 
 is frequently subordinate to some other end; but how 
 rarely is it anything radically better. In many cases the 
 
96 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ambition is for means to satisfy luxurious tastes, to gratify 
 senseless pride and vanity. Mansions, servants, carriages, 
 horses, delicate wines, rare pictures, rich laces, and ele- 
 gant appointments are valued on account of the favorable 
 impression regarding their possessor which they are sup- 
 posed to make on a world which evermore walks by sight 
 and not by faith. It may be that love of pleasure, or of 
 power, rank, and office, or of the windy praise of his fel- 
 lows, stimulates man to strive, but even these aims are of 
 the earth earthy. They certainly fall infinitely below 
 what they should be. To an appalling extent the people 
 around us live without any pronounced desire to know 
 God, indifferent to communion with Him, and careless of 
 their immortal destiny. They do not seem to realize 
 that they are other than a higher sort of animal, and do 
 not recognize any obligation to unfold the God-likeness in 
 them, or to reveal the goodness and beauty of the Re- 
 deemer in their character and conduct. So absorbed is 
 the ordinary mind in the terrible struggle for existence 
 that is going on, so intently is it concentrated on sordid 
 interests, that it is quite unfitted for spiritual concerns. 
 Consequently attempts to read the Scriptures fail, the 
 letters change to rows of figures, and the shortest road 
 to affluence seems more important than finding the surest 
 way to heaven. In prayer terrestrial riches strangely 
 blend with the celestial, and supplications take on the 
 tone of the market rather than the devoutness of the 
 altar. These too common experiences, combined with the 
 reluctance of many to go to church at all, and the anxiety 
 of more to get out again after they have entered, show 
 how the prevailing philosophy of our times is gradually 
 hardening, withering, and blighting the spiritual in hu- 
 manity. Can such a system be credible? Can we regard 
 it as attractive? Credible! Can that be credible which 
 can only be established at the cost of all that is great and 
 
YANG CHOO AND EMERSON. 97 
 
 good in man ? Attractive ! Can that be attractive which 
 allies us with brutes, and which buries all our fair ideals 
 in mud and slime ? Attractive possibly to worms wrig- 
 gling in the earth, and to swine grunting over their swill, 
 but assuredly not to men; not at least to those who will 
 open their eyes wide enough to recognize the quagmire 
 into which it is perceptibly sinking them. 
 
 Already we perceive how ruthlessly this Ism plunders 
 and impoverishes the race, and therefore only a few more 
 words need be added on this point. Practically it robs 
 the soul of God. Mr. Emerson, in The Unitarian 
 JZeview, tries to estimate the extent and painfulness of 
 this loss. He deplores "the solitude of the soul that 
 is without God in the world," and likens it to "aimless, 
 fatherless Cain," "who hears only the sound of his own 
 footsteps in God's resplendent creation." To such a 
 one "heaven and earth have been deprived of beauty, 
 the sun of its power to cheer, and every great thought 
 of its power to inspire." Here, indeed, is bankruptcy! 
 Take away God, and the beggarly inventory of what is 
 left is not worth the reading. Not satisfied with de- 
 priving us of God, Materialism also plunders life of 
 everything that makes it tolerable. It niches from the 
 unsuspecting soul the sense of immortality, and in return 
 leaves some such melancholy Gospel as that which Yang 
 Choo comforts his disciples with: "All are born and all 
 die; the intelligent and the stupid, the honorable and the 
 mean. At ten years old some die; at a hundred years old 
 some die. The virtuous and the sage die; the ruffian and 
 the fool also die. Alive, they were Yaou and Shun, the 
 most virtuous of men; dead, they are so much rotten bone. 
 Alive, they were Klee and Chow, the most wicked of men; 
 dead, they are so much rotten bone. While alive, there- 
 fore, let us hasten to make the best of life; when about to 
 die, let us treat the thing with indifference, and seeking 
 7 
 
98 ISMS OLD A.ND NEW. 
 
 to accomplish our departure, so abandon ourselves to 
 annihilation." One shudders as he reads. Yet this same 
 death's-head philosophy, only skillfully adorned with flow- 
 ers, is that which is current among high and low in Europe 
 and America. No wonder that existence becomes insuf- 
 ferably wearisome, unendurable and drearisome when it is 
 overshadowed by such a upas. The perpetual and mean- 
 ingless clatter, the endless and senseless rattle of this 
 soulless mechanism which we call life ; signifying and end- 
 ing in nothing, can hardly fail to evoke gloominess and 
 despair. Hence so many are wretched who seem to have 
 everything needful for happiness, and so many are groan- 
 ing who have every earthly reason to rejoice. Prosperity, 
 palaces, pictures, pleasures, cannot satisfy the cravings of 
 the soul, and after the excitement is passed which was 
 experienced in their pursuit, there is nothing to sustain 
 and satisfy. The question is now being asked, -'Is life 
 worth living ? " and it is being as frequently answered by 
 the grave of the suicide. In the light of Materialism it is 
 not. Why should one strive, why plod on beneath oppress- 
 ive burdens, why endure the agonies and shame of time, 
 when oblivion in the quiet grave is so easy? Apart from 
 God, emptied of spiritual meaning and deprived of eter- 
 nal hope, life is a curse, and no wonder if its unsatisfac- 
 tory experiences and cruel disappointments madden the 
 intellect, darken the heart, and drive the weary one to the 
 repose of death. Well has Mr. Malloch summed up this 
 intense and utter degradation when he trenchantly writes: 
 "To bring into men's minds eternal corruption, instead of 
 eternal life, — or, rather, not corruption, I should say, but 
 putrefaction. For what is putrefaction but decomposi 
 tion ? And at the touch of science all our noblest ideas 
 decompose and putrify till our whole souls are strewed with 
 dead hopes and dead religions, with corpses of all the 
 thoughts we loved 
 
INCREDIBLE. 99 
 
 " 'Quickening slowly into lower forms.' " 
 
 Can that be a true philosophy which pauperizes exist- 
 ence, and that converts the fair earth into a potter's field, 
 where beggars may find a refuge with worms, and hide 
 their tattered wretchedness in the cold, narrow bed of 
 annihilation ? True ? When hell is true, when devils are 
 not false, and when wrong and error are not deceitful, it 
 may be true. But not till then. Not till things most 
 certain become uncertain, the harmonies of the universe 
 be out of tune, and the foundations of eternal verities be 
 shaken, can such a monstrous, rapacious theory be proba- 
 ble to reason or possible to faith. Unhappy the soul who 
 has been deceived by it, who has surrendered his sense of 
 immortality to its block and ax, and who stumbles along 
 over the ruins of once-cherished hopes and beliefs toward 
 extinction. For him no sweet voices sing welcome in the 
 far Beyond; for him no land of beauty unseen by mortal 
 eye unfolds its loveliness; for him no Savior stands with 
 extended arms inviting to the mansions blessed, and for 
 him no endless vistas of unsurpassed and unsurpassable 
 glory open as the scenes of time recede. No; all is dark, 
 cold, forbidding. Every sunrise only hastens impending 
 doom, every grave but tells of sad, irreparable decay, and 
 every sunset is to him only the gorgeous, flaunting herald 
 of annihilation. Annihilation is the burden of every mur- 
 muring wind; it is articulated in the rustle of autumnal 
 leaves; it is roared in the thunder clap, and seared into 
 his soul by the lightning's shaft that splinters to naught 
 the giant of the woods. This is to him the one sad mes- 
 sage of creation; and all the voices within him and with- 
 out sent by the Almighty to assure him of everlasting life 
 have turned false prophets to his heart, and mutter death, 
 only death, — nothing but death. 
 
 "While we deplore these insatiate ravages, we rejoice 
 
100 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 that the power of Materialism is less than its malignancy. 
 It may destroy our ideals, it may crush our hopes, it may 
 debase our life, it may lead us to doubt the being of God 
 and the eternity of man, but it can go no farther. It may 
 triumph over our faith in the realities against which it 
 strives; but it never can prevail against the realities them- 
 selves. It cannot empty the universe of God, cannot 
 strike Him from His throne, or wrest the scepter from His 
 hand. In this we will rejoice and be glad; yea, and we 
 will shout for joy, because it is equally impotent in its war 
 against humanity. It cannot dispossess the soul of im- 
 mortality, cannot rob it of that endless life which is its 
 glory, nor drown it in the seas of drear oblivion, nor doom 
 it to the "Realm of Nothingness'': 
 
 " The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 
 Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years ; 
 But Thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 
 Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 
 The wreck of matter and the crash of worlds." 
 
 Of this we are assured, and in this confidence will we 
 rejoice; and while we struggle with the thickening fogs 
 of cold Materialism this hope shall sustain us, that the sun 
 of truth, which for the moment it obscures but cannot 
 extinguish, shall once more and forever stream through 
 the misty veil, and with the night-scattering wings of 
 light chase away the sorrows and the shadows which have 
 settled on too many souls, and enshrouded them in gloom 
 too long : 
 
NATURALISM 
 
 " Upholding all things by the word of His power." Hebrews i, 3. 
 
 "There is a power 
 Unseen that rules the illimitable world, 
 That guides its motions, from the brightest star 
 To the least dust of this sin-tainted mold ; 
 While man, who madly deems himself the lord 
 Of all, is naught but weakness and dependence." 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 ARISTOTLE thought that Anaxagoras talked like a 
 -£X_ sober man, because he rejected the transcendental- 
 ism of the Greek Pantheists, and advocated a system 
 which recognized the reality of the visible universe, and 
 attributed the existence and variety of material forms to 
 the creative mind of God. Socrates, also, for the same 
 reason, was at first disposed to admire the philosopher of 
 Clazomense. "Having one day," he says, "read a book 
 of Anaxagoras, who said the Divine mind was the cause 
 of all things, and drew them up in their proper ranks and 
 classes, I was ravished with joy. I perceived that there 
 was nothing more certain than this principle." But more 
 intimate acquaintance with his writings did not confirm 
 this good opinion. Socrates soon discovered that Anaxa- 
 goras failed to inculcate sound views regarding a superin- 
 tending and sustaining Providence, and criticised him 
 accordingly in these terms: "He makes no further use of 
 this mind, but assigns as the cause of the order and beauty 
 that prevails in the world, the air, water, whirlwind, and 
 other agencies of nature." It seems that this father of 
 anti-transcendental theologies, while ascribing the origin 
 
 101 
 
102 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 of all things to God, did not teach that He upholds them, 
 governs or interferes with them in any way, except, at 
 times, to correct their derangements or to avert their 
 destruction. His was the machine theory of the Cosmos, 
 which represents the Almighty as imparting to the works 
 of His hands certain forces, and subordinating them to 
 specific laws, and then as withdrawing from them to some 
 remote retreat in infinite solitude, from whence to contem- 
 plate with serene satisfaction, or serener indifference, their 
 self-supporting and ceaseless operations. Such a philoso- 
 phy, in which the Creator is comparable (to employ a 
 Carlylian similitude) to a "clockmaker that once, in old 
 immemorial ages, having made his Horologe of a Universe, 
 sits ever since and sees it go," was not to the liking of 
 Socrates. In his judgment it was radically defective, in- 
 sufficient and inconclusive, stopping far short of the truth, 
 and subversive of its fundamental postulate. 
 
 The theory of an involved, boundlessly complex, and 
 automatic system of worlds, rejected by the Athenian 
 sage, has been revived in our day, and has grown, and is 
 growing, in tumultuous popularity. While Naturalism in 
 its extreme form is atheistic, as in the remarkable treatise 
 of Baron D'Holbach, in its more moderate, if not more 
 consistent shape, it concedes the Divine existence. It 
 assumes that God is, and that He is necessary to account 
 for the beginning of things; but it discredits the belief 
 that He is indispensable to their maintenance, takes any 
 direct interest in the affairs of His creatures, and either 
 can or will interfere on their behalf. Naturalism, consid- 
 ered as a theistic scheme, dispenses with the Almighty 
 after He has made the universe, and assumes that, being 
 completely made, it is abundantly able to take care of 
 itself. Its favorite illustration, probably derived from 
 Anaxagoras, by which it seeks to make plain to the sim- 
 plest understanding the character of its teachings, is 
 
WHAT IS NATUKALISM ? 103 
 
 founded on the structure and action of complicated ma- 
 chinery. An engine, for instance, is fashioned by human 
 intelligence and skill, arranged in harmony with particular 
 principles, constructed to accomplish a specific end, capa- 
 ble of generating steam, its motive force, and supplied 
 with adequate fuel. Then, by the same intelligence, it is 
 started on its journey, and afterward it runs along the rails 
 independent of its contriver, propelled by its own inherent 
 energies and in obedience to its own fundamental laws. 
 The engineer may be drunk, asleep, or dead; the locomo- 
 tive will, all the same, pursue its journey as far as the 
 route extends, and as long as the steam endures. This, it 
 is claimed, is a fair description of God's relation to the 
 universe. He called matter into being, endowed it with 
 various properties and with all-sufficing potencies, molded, 
 distributed and organized it according to a predetermined 
 plan; and then, having shaped his suns and stars, and 
 fixed the boundaries of their orbits, having rounded the 
 earth, and furnished it with animals, plants and human 
 puppets, and having provided for every possible contin- 
 gency; that is, having finished his enormous, complicated 
 machine, with its jagged wheels and ponderous hammers, 
 He removed His hand, gave the word of command, and 
 the whole began to move, and has been moving ever since. 
 If this analogy is justifiable, then from the creative hour 
 " not wanted " might have been written on the throne of 
 God. For if He has from the beginning stored up in 
 nature all the forces requisite for its operations, neither 
 His sleep nor death would have hindered or varied them in 
 the least, or have made any jDerceptible or practicable 
 difference. And if the theory which is thus illustrated is 
 correct, and the Creator has withdrawn from His works, 
 having committed them to the vicegerency of all-potent 
 second causes, then prayer, of course, is useless, provider 
 
104 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 tial care is a myth, and light or help from any other source 
 than nature an absolute impossibility. 
 
 And this is just what the Ism we are examining asserts. 
 It denounces as the fruit of ignorance and superstition the 
 belief that God is approachable, or can in any sense be 
 influenced by His creatures, or ever interposes in behalf 
 of their well-being. To even entertain such thoughts is 
 reprobated as a sign of the weakness of man's reason, and 
 of the strength of his vanity. We are exhorted to look 
 upon the world, to study the past and the present, that 
 we may see how utterly groundless these conceptions 
 are. We are told that man will be found at the period of 
 densest mental darkness attributing every strange phe- 
 nomenon of nature and every remarkable event of history 
 to supernatural interposition; but that as he advances in 
 knowledge he gradually discovers his mistake, and repudi- 
 ates his former superstition. In our day much that was 
 regarded as the result of superhuman agencies is easily 
 explained by natural causes. Continually we are solving 
 mysteries before which our ancestors trembled; and in a 
 little while we shall be able to account for everything with- 
 out falling back on God, angels, or devils. Just in pro- 
 portion as the intellect expands will the domain of the 
 semi-miraculous diminish, until it dwindles down to a point 
 too imperceptible for faith to build on. Naturalism also 
 asks, what more can be needed for the moral culture and 
 religious training of the race than the wonders and glories 
 of creation, interpreted by science and apprehended by 
 reason ? These surely must be efficacious to restrain from 
 evil, to inspire goodness, and to kindle devotion. By their 
 side, how mean, inadequate and powerless do cathedrals, 
 with their tawdry decorations, and churches, with their 
 silly preachings, appear. Why puzzle our heads and pain 
 our hearts concerning revelations and gospels, when the 
 true word of the Lord flames on us from the heavens and 
 
A FORSAKEN WORLD. 105 
 
 is articulated by the earth? But whether sufficient or 
 not, this is all we have or can have; He has spoken once — 
 in creation — He has not spoken since, and never will 
 speak again. To expect Him to open His sacred lips for 
 man's behoof is as ridiculous as to suppose that He is con- 
 stantly interfering with the established order of the uni- 
 verse to answer prayer, or to bring special deliverances to 
 individuals. Evidences of such condescension are scouted 
 with derision. It is claimed by Naturalism that they have 
 no existence outside of the imagination. In danger and 
 distress men call upon God, and are not heard. The ship 
 goes clown in the night, the home is reduced to ashes in 
 the fire, the harvest perishes in the storm, and the child 
 dies in the parent's trembling arms, though prayers impor- 
 tunate and fervent ascend to the throne of Him who is 
 believed to have power to save ; yea, and minds sink 
 beneath the burden of mystery which such a faith entails, 
 and hearts are broken on this rock, and yet God rises 
 not up to vindicate His name by affording help to the 
 sufferer. How anyone, therefore, with these and similar 
 facts before him, can cling to the doctrines of prayer and 
 providence, Naturalistic advocates affect not to understand. 
 Ignorance and unreason, they concede, may be deceived 
 by them, but they cannot comprehend how men of intelli- 
 gence can ever be persuaded of their truth. Judging these 
 doctrines to be thus irrelevant, irreconcilable and irrational, 
 they thrust them contemptuously away, and in effect write 
 " fool " on the brow of every man who gives them enter- 
 tainment. 
 
 But what shall we say of the wisdom that rejects them ? 
 Naturalism assumes an air of intellectual superiority, and 
 looks down with patronizing pity on the unfortunate peo- 
 ple who are unable to rise to its lofty views of God and 
 the universe. Perhaps it may not be amiss to name some 
 of these unfortunates, and to take the true measure of 
 
106 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 their folly. Permit me first of all to mention the venera- 
 ble men who spake of old as they were moved by the Holy 
 Spirit, and to whose influence the world undoubtedly owes 
 much of its mental culture and moral refinement. The 
 inspired prophets, poets and preachers acknowledge in 
 glowing terms what is counted visionary and absurd by 
 those who are enraptured with the idea of an impenetrable 
 and imperturbable " Clockmaker Almighty." They delight 
 to speak of Him as " The Great, the Mighty God, who 
 hath His way in the whirlwind and in the storm, and the 
 clouds are the dust of His feet; who is great in coun- 
 sel and mighty in work, whose eyes are open upon all 
 the ways of the sons of men to give everyone accord- 
 ing to his ways and according to the fruit of his doings; 
 and before whom all the inhabitants of the earth are 
 reputed as nothing, and who doeth according to His 
 will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of 
 the earth; and none can stay His hand, or say unto Him, 
 ' What doest Thou ? ' " Unto Him they cry, " O Lord God 
 of our fathers, art not Thou God in heaven ? and rulest 
 not Thou over all the kingdoms of the heathen ? and in 
 Thine hand is there not power and might, so that none is 
 able to withstand Thee ? Thine, O Lord, is the greatness 
 and the power and the glory and the victory and the 
 majesty; for all that is in the heaven and the earth is 
 Thine; Thine is the kingdom, O Lord, and Thou art exalt- 
 ed as head above all. Both riches and honor come of 
 Thee, and Thou reignest over all; and in Thine hand is 
 power and might, and in Thine hand it is to make great, 
 and to give strength unto all." "Even Thou art God 
 alone; Thou hast made heaven, the heaven of heavens, 
 with all their host, the earth and all things that are therein, 
 the seas and all that is therein, and Thou preservest them 
 all; Thy righteousness is like the great mountain; Thy 
 judgments are a great deep; O Lord, Thou preservest man 
 
SCRIPTURE TESTIMONY. 107 
 
 and beast; and by Thee all things consist." They confess 
 that "the way of man is not in himself; it is not in man 
 that walketh to direct his steps; but his goings are of the 
 Lord; for He giveth power to the faint, and to them that 
 have no might He increaseth strength." They rejoice to 
 record the Savior's assuring words, "Are not two sparrows 
 sold for a farthing? and not one of them is forgotten 
 before God; but even the very hairs of your head are all 
 numbered. Fear not, therefore, ye are of more value than 
 many sparrows"; and they are always confident that 
 Jehovah is " their refuge and strength in every time of 
 trouble," that He will arise upon them "as light in the 
 darkness," that "He will uphold them with His hand," that 
 "He will make them to dwell safely," and that "in their 
 way He will cause life, and in their pathway no death." 
 And thus, and in a thousand other ways, they represent 
 Him as "upholding all things by the word of His power," 
 as being " a very present help," as sustaining, guiding, 
 directing, and as working " all things together for good." 
 To them He is no banished, absentee Jehovah, a rigid 
 cast-iron Destiny, sitting listless, and watching the grind- 
 ing of this acutely and wretchedly devised mill of life and 
 death, — to them He is no dead Almighty Majesty en- 
 tombed in the charnel house called the universe; no with- 
 ered skeleton gleaming ghastly, like the bleached bones of 
 the poor cardinal in Milan Cathedral, clothed with regal 
 garments woven in the loom of eternity, and gorgeous 
 with sun-spangles and stellar-scintillates. He is to them 
 preeminently the Living God, the Ever Living One, the 
 "King eternal, immortal, invisible," who is "not far from 
 every one of us," "who is able to do exceeding abundantly 
 above all that we ask or think," and who "worketh all 
 things after the counsel of His own will." 
 
 That this magnificent faith of theirs is not grounded in 
 unreason as impartial a witness as Mr. Holyoake involun- 
 
108 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 tarily confesses. In his Debate with Townly he clearly 
 shows the worthlessness of a Theism that excludes the 
 Almighty from any direct interference with the affairs of 
 His creatures. Upon this point he says, " If you tell me 
 that God exists, that He is a power, or principle, or spirit, 
 or light, or life, or love, or intelligence, or what you will 
 — if He be not a father to whom His children may appeal, 
 if He be not a providence whom we may propitiate, and 
 from whom we can obtain special help in the hour of dan- 
 ger, — I say, practically, it does not matter to us whether 
 He exists or not." That is, in the estimation of an Athe- 
 ist, the Naturalist, whose Deity is, like Baal, asleep or on a 
 journey when His creatures implore His aid, is not re- 
 markably sagacious, as he is holding to a creed from 
 which he has eliminated everything that renders it impor- 
 tant, advantageous, and profitable. Thomas Jefferson is 
 another such impartial witness, who, though skeptically 
 inclined, had not discernment enough to perceive the 
 senselessness and childishness of the supernatural. In his 
 JS^otes on Virginia, when writing of the helpless condition 
 of those who suffered from human cruelty and tyranny, he 
 exclaims: "Doubtless a God of justice will awaken to a 
 sense of their wrongs, and either by disseminating a sense 
 of humanity in the bosoms of their oppressors, or by His 
 exterminating thunders, show that this world is not gov- 
 erned by a blind fatality." Is it not singular, if such ex- 
 pectations are as illusory and extravagant as Naturalism 
 claims, that so keen-sighted and long-headed a man as 
 Mr. Jefferson should have been deceived by them ? But 
 if it is said that this is accounted for by his lack of scien- 
 tific knowledge, how shall we dispose of the views an- 
 nounced by Newton, who cannot justly be charged with 
 such ignorance ? Upon this subject he pens these immor- 
 tal words: "This most beautiful system of the Sun, Plan- 
 ets and Comets could only proceed from the counsel and 
 
THE WITNESS OF HISTORY. 109 
 
 dominion of an intelligent and powerful Being. . . . This 
 Being governs all things, not as the soul of the world, but 
 as Lord over all. The Supreme God is a being eternal, 
 infinite, absolutely perfect. We know Him only by his 
 most wise and excellent contrivance of things and final 
 causes, we adore Him for his perfection ; but we reverence 
 and adore Him on account of his dominion. For we adore 
 Him as his servants; and a god without dominion, provi- 
 dence and final causes is nothing else but Fate and Nature." 
 Evidently he did not regard faith in the personal over- 
 sight and rulership of the Almighty as subversive either 
 of common sense or of scientific accuracy. Leibnitz, also, 
 expresses the conviction that " God is a good governor as 
 well as a great architect;" and Niebuhr, in his Lectures, 
 writes: "As the consideration of nature shows an inherent 
 intelligence, which may also be conceived as coherent 
 with nature, so does history, on a hundred occasions, show 
 an intelligence which is distinct from nature, which con- 
 ducts and determines those things which may seem to be 
 accidental, and it is not true that the study of history 
 weakens the belief in a Divine providence. History is, 
 of all kinds of knowledge, the one which tends most de- 
 cidedly to that belief." ( Vol. i, p. U6.) And Morell 
 confirms this testimony when he says: "To the man who 
 looks unbelievingly upon Divine providence the world's 
 history is a problem that can never be solved." (Hist, of 
 Phil., vol. ii, p. 571.) These, then, are some of the 
 names in the great army of simpletons, numskulls, and 
 fanatics who, misled by their own shallowness and obtuse- 
 ness, indulge in unphilosophical, irrational and nonsensical 
 dreams of an ever-present Infinite Spirit, who " upholds 
 all things by the word of His power," and who works in 
 and through all things to the honor and glory of His name. 
 But is it suggested that these are among the brightest 
 names in the world of thought ? Is it so ? What then ? 
 
110 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 What is the real significance of this fact ? Does it not indi- 
 cate that, measured by the capacity of the men, there must 
 be less of absurdity and fatuity in the doctrines they avow 
 than their critics are willing to acknowledge ? And may 
 it not, also, indicate that the much-talked-of unreason, 
 after all, is to be found entirely on the other side ? 
 
 Let us see. 
 
 The argument for God's existence is equally an argu- 
 ment for His governance. If intuition discerns His being, 
 it also perceives His activity. The primitive faiths of man- 
 kind rather identified the Infinite Spirit with the universe 
 than separated Him from its operations. They saw Him 
 in the phenomena of nature as well as in the movements 
 of history. He was over everything and in everything. 
 Pantheism far more than Naturalism expresses the idea 
 which filled the mind of the earliest races, and which im- 
 parted to the most ancient religious systems their distinct- 
 ive character. Doubtless among ignorant tribes the in- 
 tuitive recognition of Providence was crude, and led to 
 many superstitious and foolish thoughts and observances. 
 And not a few people of narrow and limited culture err in 
 the same direction still. As Shakspeare expresses it: 
 
 "No natural exhalation in the sky, 
 No scope of nature, no distemper'd clay, 
 No common wind, no customed event, 
 But they will pluck away his natural cause 
 And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, 
 Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven." 
 
 But the strength of these superstitious feelings only goes 
 to show how vigorous and clear the intuition is. We our- 
 selves must be conscious of the fact that just in propor- 
 tion as we realize distinctly the existence of the Almighty, 
 we seek to draw nearer to Him, to commune with Him, 
 and to commit to Him our ways. Has not this been your 
 experience? If you have ever taken pains to analyze 
 
THE LAW AND LAWGIVER. Ill 
 
 your idea of God, as the reality has emerged from the 
 mists of vagueness you have instinctively bowed the knee 
 before Him, and lifted up your heart in homage. It 
 would seem, then, that the recognition of His sovereignty 
 and supervision springs from something interwoven in the 
 soul's texture, native to it and originating with it, and that, 
 therefore, it is as worthy of confidence as is the testimony 
 of that untaught voice within us which proclaims the cer- 
 tainty of His being. 
 
 But if we shift the ground of belief from what we feel 
 within to what we behold without the result is the same. 
 Discerning thought in the constitution of nature, we are 
 led by a mental necessity to impute it to a Cause, and so 
 to reach the conclusion that Infinite Intelligence is the 
 only adequate explanation of creation. But is not 
 thought as manifest in the operations of nature as in its 
 construction? We cannot have failed to observe their 
 regularity, their order, and their apparent submission to 
 the supremacy of law. Not perhaps the unvarying action 
 of a steam engine, or the undi versified movement of a 
 watch; for nature is not without deviation from the 
 strict line of its march, and its regularity is not pre- 
 cisely an endless, monotonous repetition. While all or- 
 ganizations correspond to certain types, no two of them 
 are exactly alike; while each succeeding day and sea- 
 son resemble the preceding, they are not in every re- 
 spect the same; and though the earth from the begin- 
 ning must have been subject to the physical laws which 
 reign at present throughout the realm of matter, yet 
 under them what transformations have taken place in the 
 past, and probably what equally radical changes will take 
 place in the future. We have in the administration of 
 the universe diversity in unity, sameness and variation, 
 retrogression and progress; in a word, everything to as- 
 sure us that, while it is governed by law, it is law in the 
 
112 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 hands of a free intelligent Being, who knows how to 
 bring about modifications of old processes and even 
 new effects without transgressing its limits or disregard- 
 ing its authority. 
 
 The Christian poet asks 
 
 " How should matter execute a law, 
 Dull as it is, and satisfy a charge 
 So vast in its demands, unless impelled 
 To ceaseless action by some ceaseless Power, 
 And under pressure of some conscious cause?" 
 
 And Reid has well answered: "The laws of nature are the 
 rules according to which the effects are produced, but 
 there must be a cause which operates according to these 
 rules. The rules of navigation never navigated a ship; 
 the rules of architecture never built a house." (Essays, 
 in, JfJf.) Sir John Herschel, in his address to the British 
 association (1845), drew a similar distinction. He re- 
 minded his hearers that "a law may be a rule of action, 
 but it is not an action;" . . . and that "we can never 
 substitute the rule for the act." And Mr. Wallace, re- 
 garded as a Darwinist before Darwin, from the consid- 
 eration of many peculiar phenomena arrives at the same 
 view: "Natural selection is only a means by which the 
 Creator worked." . . <> "A superior intelligence has 
 guided the development of man in a definite direction, 
 and for a special purpose, just as man guides the develop- 
 ment of many animal and vegetable forms;" . . . and "it, 
 therefore, implies that the great laws which govern the 
 material universe were insufficient for his production." 
 ( Wallace, p. 360.) I have no doubt if common sense 
 would have sanctioned a different conclusion our scientist 
 would not have been slow to embrace it; and the fact 
 that he and others have been obliged to admit the impo- 
 tence of mere law, strengthens my position that its reign, 
 especially when taken in connection with the variety of 
 
MAN AND NATURE. 113 
 
 operations that occur under it, of which man's develop- 
 ment is a fair illustration, makes unanswerably for belief 
 in God's imperial executive functions; or, in other words, 
 for the reality and completeness of His all-wise providence. 
 Another line of thought, suggested by a remark of Mr. 
 Wallace, can hardly fail to carry conviction to the mind 
 of the most dubious. He alludes to the fact that man has 
 guided the development of many animal and vegetable 
 forms. This is indeed true, but probably very few pause 
 to consider its significance. Horace Bushnel has said: 
 "Not all the winds, and storms, and earthquakes, and 
 seas, and seasons of the world have done so much as man 
 to revolutionize the earth." He discriminates between 
 humanity and nature. The latter he looks upon as having 
 no power of improvement within itself, but as subject to 
 the action of soul, "thoughtful soul," and as receiving 
 from its touch new aspects and new features. This is the 
 idea of the Psalmist: "Thou hast made him (man) to 
 have dominion over the works of Thy hands. Thou hast 
 put all things under his feet." That is, the creature is the 
 viceroy of the Creator in the terrestrial world, and in 
 miniature, and in some small degree figures to the under- 
 standing how it is possible for his Sovereign to interfere 
 in the course of things for special ends, such as the answer 
 to prayer, without disregarding their constitution or dis- 
 arranging their laws. We know that man has improved 
 vegetation, has added freshness and beauty to the grass 
 on the lawn, has enriched the fruits on the boughs of the 
 orchard, and multiplied the colors and increased the fra- 
 grance of plants. He has bettered soils, moderated the 
 severity of the seasons, turned rivers, joined seas, and 
 rendered tributary to his service those strange forces seen 
 only when in operation, and only in useful and available 
 operation through the influence of intelligence. But in 
 all of these manifold endeavors and conquests has any law 
 8 
 
114 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 been trifled with? Has the uniformity of nature been 
 imperiled, or its integrity been jeopardized ? When man 
 has flashed the electric spark, charged with his thought, 
 through the heart of mountains like St. Gothard, and 
 under the surging billows of oceans like the Atlantic; 
 when he has drawn the lightning's shaft from out the 
 stormy cloud, and dispersed its anger through the air, or 
 buried its fury in the earth; when he has confronted the 
 devastating lava flowing down the fissured sides of ancient 
 volcanoes wreathed in sulphurous smoke, diverting its fiery 
 tide into channels which his skill has dug, as was done by 
 the Viceroy in 1794 to save Portici from Vesuvius; when 
 he has grappled with the might of the pestilence, wrung 
 from the bowels of the earth her hoarded treasures, or 
 extracted from the plant the soothing anodyne, has he 
 outraged nature, has he disregarded her mandates or 
 deranged her courses? No; she is just as fair, as or- 
 derly, as regular as ever. Effects have been produced 
 which, left to herself, never would have been produced, 
 and which are to be traced to the influence of intelli- 
 gence, which is able to subject nature, without subverting 
 her, to its ends and aims. 
 
 And can man do so much and God do nothing? Is 
 the mind of Deity less potent than the mind of humanity ? 
 If the creature can find a way to communicate with his 
 fellows across wastes of water and deserts of sand; if he 
 by some simple anaesthetic can alleviate pain; if he by a 
 thousand ways can avert calamities, or bring deliverance 
 to those who are in danger, cannot the Creator, by means 
 undiscoverable to us, by agencies and instrumentalities 
 which lie beyond the range of our vision and the tests of 
 our chemistry, hear the helpless when he cries, and open 
 up unexpected avenues of escape ? If, in a word, man is 
 himself providence to the lower world, what is to hinder 
 God from being providence to the higher ? Surely nature 
 
NATURE AND REVELATION. 115 
 
 must be as pliable to His touch and as plastic to His 
 thought as it is to the being made in His image! Is He 
 Himself never to exercise that power which He has in- 
 trusted to His child ? And if that child, in its folly, can 
 sway it without occasioning anarchy in the universe, can- 
 not the Father, in His wisdom, do the same, and even 
 more wonderfully and abundantly, without incurring the 
 suspicion of inconsistency, fickleness, or lawlessless ? This 
 we infer from man's relation to nature, and it is as though 
 God had introduced it before our eyes, that we might 
 thereby be assured that He Himself is thus allied to us, 
 and that, in as real a sense, though perhaps more mys- 
 teriously, He guides and controls all things according to 
 the counsel of His own will. And as long as the simili- 
 tude is perpetuated we shall believe that the Invisible One 
 can hear our prayer, can come near to us in trial, can 
 succor us in temptation, can comfort us in sorrow, — can 
 and will; yea, will and does. 
 
 The reasonableness and value of the system we are 
 considering may also be tested in another manner. It 
 claims that nature is all-sufficient for moral, reformatory, 
 and religious inspiration and guidance, and that God will 
 in no case interpose to supplement this first volume with 
 a second. But is the first really sufficient? When it has 
 been relied on exclusively has it brought forth the fruits 
 of righteousness? Has it promoted human brotherhood, 
 renovated society, and multiplied altars of devotion? If 
 it has not, — if in these particulars it has failed, — then 
 the assumption of moral potency put forth in its behalf 
 is baseless, and the inference that God will not shed addi- 
 tional light on the path of His creatures is purely gratu- 
 itous. We have not to seek far or long to discover that 
 on these points Naturalism romances, and that this spirit- 
 ual power is more imaginary than real. Undoubtedly the 
 works of the Almighty influence wonderfully the human 
 
116 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 mind. They exalt, overawe, delight and expand the soul; 
 they sometimes hush to silence, or awaken praise, create 
 ennobling images or kindle poetic fires; but it is exceed- 
 ingly questionable whether they ever do more than render 
 active what is already latent in the man. But be that as 
 it may, though nature may quicken the muse of the poet 
 and the genius of the artist, and although it may at times 
 stimulate devotion, it is practically powerless to reclaim 
 the wanderer from right, to purify the heart of the 
 vicious, or to restore hope to the despairing. The sun 
 that rolls resplendently in space, whose brightness is the 
 shadow of its Creator's glory, subtle and penetrating 
 though its light may be, invading chambers of densest 
 ignorance and inundating dens of vice, never yet has 
 flooded the benighted intellect with healing radiance or 
 quickened into moral fruitfulness the barren conscience. 
 The humblest roadside preacher in his poverty has made 
 more converts to virtue's cause than has the king of day 
 in all the affluence of his insufferable splendor. Ocean 
 in its vastness, — a world of water rising in mists and 
 ascending in waves to salute a world of fire, — awakens 
 not with the thunder of its rolling billows the penitence 
 of the prodigal; and neither does its majestic and appall- 
 ing power rescue the dissolute and depraved. The sweet, 
 saintly life of a Christian mother has done more to save 
 the sea-boy from eternal ruin than all the mighty, head- 
 strong waters that swirl in tempests or sleep in calms. 
 They who dwell among the mountains, who inhabit sol- 
 emn solitudes, who gaze on the untrodden snows of alti- 
 tudes beyond their reach, and who are familiar with the 
 antheming winds as they traverse the pine forests whose 
 roots cling to inhospitable rocks, are no better, no purer, 
 than they who tread the muddy streets and gaze continu- 
 ally on the blank, monotonous houses of great cities. 
 The poorest mission in the most squalid quarter of a 
 
MORAL IMPOTENCE OF NATURE. 117 
 
 dense metropolis will do more real work in a year for 
 virtue and piety than the beauty of Chamounix or the 
 savage grandeur of the Engadine will accomplish in an 
 age. Morally, the Sunday-school children of a country 
 are worth more than all the stars that shine in heaven 
 or all the flowers that gleam on earth, and in things per- 
 taining to spiritual regeneration the Judsons and Cloughs 
 are of more value than the Himalayas; and every Chris- 
 tian laborer consecrating the meagerest talents to the 
 Master's cause is of more importance than wooded dell, 
 savage glen, majestic cataracts and cloud-crowned moun- 
 tains. 
 
 It will not be denied that men of genius, who have 
 been most susceptible to nature's influences, have been 
 among the most godless. Who is there among the poets 
 that has surpassed Goethe in depth of sensibility, or who 
 could more vividly portray every phase of beauty and sub- 
 limity, and yet his life was far from saintly ? He trifled 
 with female affections through many foul and filthy years; 
 and philosopher as well as poet though he was, he restrained 
 not the hot winds of passion from ravaging his soul like a 
 Sirocco's blast. Your heroic Byron, whose majestic verse 
 reveals a heart as impressionable to the loveliness of stream 
 and bird and flower as Geneva's placid lake, which he de- 
 scribes so tenderly, is to the luster of the stars, was a way- 
 ward spirit, and continually gravitated downward toward 
 the frail and sin-stained. Robert Burns, too, who could 
 discern the grace and purity of the mountain daisy, and 
 who in his poems could enshrine the stern grandeur of his 
 Scotia's scenery, failed not to put in practice one part at 
 least of his ribald song, "to riot all the night." Paint- 
 ers, who are supposed to drink in inspiration from the 
 Creator's works, and musicians, who feel their tender har- 
 monies, have afforded in their dissolute conduct sad proof 
 that there is an infinite gulf between aesthetical senti- 
 
118 isms old and new. 
 
 ments and ethical principles. And even where nature has 
 been idealized into a deity, or transformed into an altar, 
 and where piety has sought to do it honor, as in the case 
 of the Chaldeans and the Greeks, the worship has not 
 been free from sensuality, or the worshipers from licen- 
 tiousness. A fatality seems to attend every naturalistic 
 system of religion. Whatever may be the explanation, 
 whether it is to be accounted for by its utter inability to 
 reach the conscience, or by some other and here nameless 
 impotency, the fact still remains that it ever tends toward 
 looseness in morals and weakness in virtue. Witness the 
 truth of this statement in the lives of those who, in Eu- 
 rope and America, have fallen under the influence of such 
 writers as D'Holbach, and who, thrusting from them the 
 teachings of Christianity, have come to regard man as the 
 universal priest, and the world as a veil hiding from mor- 
 tal eyes an Infinite Unknown. While some among them 
 are undoubtedly men of purity and rectitude, the rank 
 and file have little share in these high qualities. They are 
 too frequently careless of moral obligation, and too indif- 
 ferent to right for them to be classed with the pure and 
 noble. While they talk much of nature, they are rarely 
 found in communion with her; while they extol her, they 
 do not desire her company. Not in cathedral forests will 
 you find them, nor treading the solitudes of the temple- 
 hills, pouring out their souls in the presence of the Un- 
 seen, and seeking with trembling faith the Infinite One. 
 No; their thoughts are not concerned with such sublime 
 pursuits and such exalted themes. Generally they are 
 found with agitators who would overthrow society, who 
 would trample law and order under foot, and who would 
 welcome bloody revolution in the interest of crazy 
 schemes of progress. Not from the pure air or from the 
 sublimities of creation do they expect to derive strength 
 for manly duty and comfort for weary hearts, but rather 
 
nature's worshipers. 119 
 
 from the wine-glass and the beer-barrel. They lounge in 
 saloons, guzzle in concert-gardens, and beclouding their 
 mental and moral faculties with the fumes of untold quan- 
 tities of liquor, go forth to drunken slumber, or to moody 
 discontent, and are ready for the heroic task, which they 
 not infrequently perform, of shooting into crowds of help- 
 less, unarmed people, or of brutally murdering defenseless 
 women. 
 
 It is a significant fact, not unworthy of note in this 
 connection, that the wrathful and stormful aspects of 
 nature, which sometimes overwhelm the human heart with 
 terror, rarely, if ever, produce permanent spiritual results. 
 Occasionally thay may impel toward a better and more 
 religious life, but they invariably stop short of the sacred 
 goal. They need to be supplemented by something else, 
 something that will deepen the impression received, and 
 carry it forward to an abiding moral transformation. Thus 
 it was the gospel of Christ, not the tempest that alarmed 
 Martin Luther in the forest, that effected the conversion 
 of the monk, and prepared him to be a reformer. The 
 earthquakes in New England, which startled so many 
 people into a desire for union with the church, as was 
 abundantly proven, failed to implant in the soul the prin- 
 ciples of godliness and righteousness. An intelligent 
 Scotchman related to me on one occasion what he had 
 experienced when alone near the summit of the Rocky 
 Mountains. He said that he was so oppressed with the 
 grandeur of the scene that he wept, and found himself 
 doing what for years before he had neglected — praying. 
 Here was a hopeful case surely. After all, then, we have 
 an instance of conversion through the ministry of nature. 
 Not so fast. This man when narrating the circumstance 
 to me treated it as a pleasantry, as an incident to be 
 merry over, and interblended coarse expressions and oaths 
 in his speech. Evidently the transient emotion had pro- 
 
120 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ducecl no lasting improvement. I remember once the 
 crew and passengers of a ship, during an Atlantic hurri- 
 cane which threatened destruction, becoming violently 
 penitent and devout, and when the danger abated rapidly 
 returning to their folly and their irreligion. I have seen 
 a city stricken with Asiatic cholera draped in sadness, 
 mourning over its wickedness, supplicating God with self- 
 reproaches and with vows of self-amendment, and when 
 the frost announced the return of a healthier season I 
 have seen the people of that city as proud, oppressive and 
 corrupt as they were before. A company of sailors related 
 to my church the dealings of God with them which led 
 them to desire baptism. Their ship had been caught in 
 the whirl and might of a typhoon in the China Sea. 
 They gave themselves up for lost. Grim darkness covered 
 them, the wind howled round them, the seas swept over 
 them, and prospect of deliverance there was none. "They 
 were at their wits' end," and then called they upon God, 
 and as they lifted their despairing eyes they saw through 
 a sudden rent in the pall of death above them a bright 
 star shining. They hailed it as a happy omen. It com- 
 forted them in their distress, inspired them with courage, 
 and helped them by its soothing influence to weather the 
 terrific storm. If any set of men could have been made 
 better by nature, surely these sailors ought to have been 
 transformed into saints. But they were not; and never 
 did they rise to the higher life until some young Christians 
 boarded their vessel at the wharf and guided them to 
 Jesus. In their case, as in many others, the humblest 
 colporteur proved a mightier and more effective moral 
 force than the sublimest typhoon. As I have reflected on 
 such instances, the conviction has grown that the extir- 
 pation of sin and the renewal of the heart in goodness 
 require something more than glare of lightning, stroke of 
 thunder, or fury of devastating tempest. 
 
THE NEW THEOLOGY. 121 
 
 Nay more, if we estimate this Ism by the ethical and 
 religious principles which it necessitates, and which in its 
 name are presented as the theological doctrines of the 
 material universe, we shall be persuaded that morally it is 
 worthless. The first article of its creed declares that 
 there is no supreme God, at best only a supreme un- 
 knowable Unknown, with whom it is impossible for us to 
 hold communion, and who of course can take no possible 
 interest in His creatures. Its second resolves the doctrine 
 of providence into fate, and attributes the mysterious in- 
 fluences that dispose us toward the right, or incline us 
 toward the wrong, to physical sources. They are identi- 
 fied with atmospheric changes, the moon's phases, the 
 stars' motions, the earth's perihelion, the sun's periodic 
 convulsions, with variations of the temperature, the scen- 
 ery that surrounds us, the food we eat, and the fluids 
 we drink. These teachings are suggested as worthy sub- 
 stitutes for the doctrines of God and His government — 
 how elevating ! As a third kind of article, we are assured 
 that the Bible idea of moral liberty is a myth, and that we 
 should believe in its stead that of mechanical or chemical 
 necessity, and regard thought, opinion, emotion, desire, 
 volition, as the result of changes in the tissues of the 
 brain, or as determined solely by the weight and size of 
 that remarkable organ. How reasonable ! Very ! On 
 these exalted notions, however, Shakspeare, in his King 
 Lear, has ventured to express the opinion — an opinion so 
 dark and depreciatory that it must be attributed to the 
 benighted condition of the unhappy age in which he lived: 
 " This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we 
 are sick in fortune (often the surfeit of our own behav- 
 iour) we make guilty of our disasters the sun, moon, and 
 stars: as if we were villains on necessity; fools by heav- 
 enly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treacherous by 
 spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, 
 
122 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 by inforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that 
 we are evil, by a divine thrusting on." Of course if the 
 poet had only lived in these enlightened days he would 
 have seen differently, and would have extolled what he 
 has ridiculed. Unhappy poet ! blind to the most lumi- 
 nous of doctrines ! ! Alas for dim-sighted genius ! ! ! 
 Then, we are informed, fourthly, that man sprang from 
 one-celled amoeba? ancestors of the Laurentian period; 
 that after developing into skullless vertebrates, such as 
 the amphioxus, and proceeding upward through amphibian 
 forms, he appeared among the mammals, and having for a 
 season borne the simian image, emerged into the shape 
 which now he wears. How ennobling ! Fifthly, it is af- 
 firmed that sin is only disease, or better, a circuitous route 
 to perfection; that moral qualities do not inhere in hu- 
 man conduct; and that it is wrong to suppose that there 
 is anything sacred in marriage, or anything heinous in 
 infanticide. How liberal ! Then, by way of climax to 
 this singular Confession of Faith, we are encouraged to 
 believe that the universe is infinitely miserable, but that 
 man inevitably shall attain to happiness in the rottenness 
 and oblivion of the grave. How cheerful ! Yea, how de- 
 lightful, charming, and edifying ! Perfectly splendid ! 
 These are the principal dogmas and precepts of the New 
 Theology. What an advance on the antiquated doctrines 
 of Paul, and the narrow statutes of Moses. How exalted! 
 Immeasurably beyond the Tridentine Decrees, or those 
 other wretched decrees of Dort, or the melancholy articles 
 of the Westminster divines ! Certainly, if they are not 
 tran scendently above every other confession, descendently 
 they surpass them all. 
 
 But let us see whitherward these remarkable teach- 
 ings tend. I must confess, if the only Almight3 r is blind 
 force, if man is a creature of circumstances, if the only 
 law to be obeyed is the irresistible, if the rule of mar- 
 
MORAL OUTCOME OF NATURALISM. 123 
 
 riage is affinity, and if the end of life is personal gratifi- 
 cation, that I cannot see from whence we are to derive 
 our inspiration to virtue and piety. Piety, purity — they 
 wither under the blighting influence of such ideas. They 
 crucify lofty feelings and noble aspirations, and can hardly 
 fail to promote the growth of vice and crime. If man 
 is but an advance on the brute he will probably be in- 
 clined to rend and tear as the brute; and if marriage is 
 destitute of the sacred element it will gradually pass into 
 what Herbert Spencer calls " Promiscuity," and Sir John 
 Lubbock defines as "communal" wedlock; and if mater- 
 nity is a curse which no divine law imposes, infanticide 
 will inevitably become as common in America as in Tas- 
 mania; and if wrong-doing is but an unavoidable accident, 
 idlers, drunkards, and the whole canaille of devildom will 
 feel that no other course is open to them but to follow 
 their disordered appetites and turbulent passions. Surely 
 this frightful and alarming tendency of principles pro- 
 fessedly derived from nature by philosophical Naturalism 
 proves conclusively that as a theology it is utterly inade- 
 quate to conserve the moral and religious welfare of society. 
 And in view of this utter break-down of its most pre- 
 tentious and serious claims, are we not warranted in re- 
 jecting the entire system? We feel assured that we are. 
 How much more rational the belief that, beholding our 
 helplessness, the loving Father should confer on us an 
 adequate Revelation, that the Unseen should refuse to 
 remain the Unknown, and the Inconceivable continue the 
 Inaudible. " He who made the eye, shall He not see ? 
 He who made the ear, shall He not hear ?" And He who 
 made the tongue, shall He not speak ? If he has found 
 lips in the mute rocky ranges, breath in the whispering 
 breezes, and a vocabulary in suns, stars, seas, solitary 
 deserts, and crowded cities wherewith to proclaim His 
 eternal power and Godhead, seeing our dire spiritual ne- 
 
124 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 cessities, it is reasonable to conclude that to meet them 
 He will not despise our poor, stammering language, nor 
 disdain to use it as the vehicle of His mighty thought. 
 It is incredible that the speech-maker should be Himself 
 the Speechless, or that the author of multiplied vocables 
 should be unable to articulate His holy will. Wise men 
 of all ages, such as Socrates, have expressed the convic- 
 tion that a direct Revelation is among the most probable 
 and possible, as it is among the most indispensable, of 
 heaven's gifts. If it is said that this reasoning will carry 
 us to the unorthodox conclusion that His communications 
 cannot be restricted to the contents of one volume, I can 
 only answer, so be it. I shall even then be only repeating 
 the sentiment ascribed to Zuinglius by the author of 
 Heathen Religions, that "the Holy Ghost was not en- 
 tirely excluded from the more worthy portion of the 
 heathen world." But while I am prepared to accept the 
 consequences of my argument, and to reverence the signs 
 of God in any sacred book, there are adequate reasons for 
 maintaining that the volume known among us as the 
 Bible contains the completest, the most fully inspired, 
 and the best authenticated revelation ever given to the 
 race. All others are as stars in comparison with the 
 sun, as the cold luster of the pole in comparison with the 
 brilliancy of the tropics, as the opaque whiteness of the 
 pearl in comparison with the transparent beauty of the 
 diamond. Rousseau acknowledges its moral power; 
 Goethe confesses its unparalleled spiritual excellence; 
 Theodore Parker magnifies it as the purest fertilizing 
 stream that ever flowed through our desert world; Hux- 
 ley esteems it indispensable to sound ethical education, 
 and Amberley extols it beyond any other work existing 
 among men. From these considerations it is reasonable 
 to conclude not only that Naturalism is untenable, but 
 that He who " upholds all things by the word of His 
 
PLOTINUS. 125 
 
 power," also has conferred on us a revelation to lighten 
 our darkness, and that in its supreme and perfected form 
 it is contained in the Holy Scriptures. 
 
 Their light is needed in navigating the vague uncer- 
 tainty called life; apart from their luster the universe 
 is a dubious phantasmagoria, and aside from their spirit- 
 ual vivifying warmth the world is as those hyperborean 
 regions where winter is added to winter, where ice is piled 
 on ice, where the sea is imprisoned in eternal repose, and 
 where the congealed mass is swept by shivering winds. 
 Without the Bible the soul remains doubt-riven, and "at 
 best but a troubled guest upon an earth of gloom." The 
 study of nature imparts not moral strength, and the con- 
 quest of nature brings neither peace nor joy. Could we 
 penetrate the innermost laboratory, hidden in the abysmal 
 depths of the unseen, and witness chemical combinations 
 resulting in suns, stars and constellations, and could we dis- 
 engage ourselves from old ideas and satisfy ourselves that 
 toiling time, laborious law and moiling matter are suf- 
 ficient to account for the origin and order of all things 
 that make up this marvelous universe, we would turn 
 from the great discovery saddened and dispirited, like 
 children who, seeking a father, have stumbled on his 
 grave, and like children conscious of their orphan state 
 we would cry out in sharp agony of despair, God ! God ! 
 God ! So unsubmergeable are our religious instincts, and 
 so unquenchable our religious aspirations, that could 
 we prove the unprovable assumptions of Naturalism we 
 would revolt from the unwelcome demonstration, and in 
 our wretchedness bewail the loss of confidence in that 
 Book whose sublime revelations have filled our thoughts 
 with Divine images and our lives with the consciousness 
 of saintly fellowships. 
 
 It is related of the great Plotinus that he soug-ht in 
 many directions for truth; that he communed with sci- 
 
126 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ences and philosophies, climbed the heights of speculation 
 and fathomed the depths of reflection, but received from 
 all no satisfactory reply. He approached the verge of 
 skepticism, and was on the point of embracing the cheer- 
 less creed that there is nothing certain but uncertainty 
 when he heard of a strange teacher in the city of Alex- 
 andria. A man had appeared among the cultured people 
 of that city who, though of humble rank and a porter 
 by trade, had undertaken to lecture on philosophy, and to 
 him Plontinus came. The young skeptic, to whom nature 
 had been tongueless, sat at the feet of the earnest think- 
 er, Ammonius the carrier, and from his lips received the 
 message that opened to his mind the realities of truth. 
 Plotinus represents many young men to whom these 
 words will come. They have read themselves into a 
 chaos of doubt; and they are half persuaded that they 
 have been abandoned by their Creator to the mock- 
 ing Titans of error. Why seek further? Hear this, ye 
 young: a greater teacher than Ammonius is here. He 
 once lived among men in lowly form, and He yet lives 
 in the immortal revelations of this Sacred Book. Like 
 the inquiring Alexandrian, humble your intellect and 
 learn of Jesus, who spake as never man spake; sit at 
 His feet; permit the supernatural to supplement and 
 complete the natural, and then you shall go forth en- 
 riched with truth, — knowing God, knowing self, know- 
 ing, also, how God and self touch each other and come 
 into sacred commerce, — and then shall you be able to 
 brighten the pathway of others with the reflection of 
 that light which fills your soul with peace and joy. 
 
 "God's voice, not Nature's, — night and noon 
 He sits upon the great white throne 
 And listens for the creatures' praise. 
 "What babble we of days and days ? 
 The Day spring He, whose clays go on." 
 
FESSIMISM. 
 
 "Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but 
 grievous; nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of 
 righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." 
 
 Hebrews xii, 11. 
 
 " Because the few with signal virtue crowned, 
 
 The heights and pinnacles of human mind, 
 Sadder and wearier than the rest are found, — 
 
 Wish not thy soul less wise or less refined. 
 True, that the clear delights that every day 
 
 Cheer and distract the pilgrim are not theirs; 
 True, that though free from Passion's lawless sway, 
 
 A loftier being brings severer cares ; 
 Yet have they special pleasures, — even mirth, — 
 By those undreamed of who have only trod 
 Life's valley smooth ; and if the rolling earth 
 To their nice ear have many a painful tone, 
 They know man does not live by joy alone, 
 But by the presence of the power of God." 
 
 Lord Houghton. 
 
 PAIN and anguish fill a large place in human life. 
 Their harsh voices cannot be silenced, neither can 
 the rattle of elegant carriages, nor rush and din of com- 
 merce, nor the clamor of ambitious, eloquent tongues, 
 drown the solemn pathos of their discourse. Their baleful 
 presence stealthily glides everywhere, and everywhere their 
 shadow falls. They walk unopposed through the ranks 
 of watchful guards, and deliver to kings their sad messages, 
 and they pass unhindered into humble, peaceful homes, 
 and speak the awful word that withers their beauty and 
 blights their peace. No life can build them out, no foot 
 can speed fast enough to elude them, no hand can strike 
 
 127 
 
128 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 vigorously enough to repel them, and no subtle skill can 
 evade them, nor any bribe of affluence corrupt them. 
 They are everywhere, they have all times; yea, they have 
 all means at their disposal, for they can impart a scorpion's 
 sting to our delights and poison-venom to our hopes. The 
 house we build to shield us from the storm may but fur- 
 nish fuel for the fire that shall consume our prosperity 
 and rob us of our dear ones; the adornments which afford 
 us harmless pleasure may but serve to supply a motive to 
 the assassin's knife; the children we have reared with so 
 much fondness, and on whose multiplying years we have 
 looked with fond anticipation, may only prove a perennial 
 affliction to our sanguine souls, and the high emprise, rich 
 in promises, may be but the herald of death and desolation. 
 So closely interwoven is suffering with all our movements, 
 so strangely interblended with our felicity, so inseparable, 
 apparently, from our gladdest and serenest hours, that 
 every earnest soul has felt the truth of what Shelley 
 
 wrote : 
 
 " We look before and after, 
 And pine for what is not, 
 E'en our sincerest laughter 
 With some pain is fraught, 
 Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest thought." 
 
 It ought not, therefore, to occasion us much surprise if 
 many minds take on a despairing mood, and if many 
 tongues adopt the language of despondency. So difficult 
 is it for humanity at times to discern the silver lining in 
 the cloud that overshadows, so hard is it to realize, under 
 certain conditions, that the thick pillar which precedes us, 
 as it did the Jews, is guiding to Canaan's promised land, 
 that nothing is seen but the somber shadows of the savage 
 wilderness through which our pathway lies. And when 
 the shekinah hides the Christ of comfort from our longing 
 eyes, it is hard, if not impossible, for us to recognize its 
 
HUMA^ MISERY. 129 
 
 brightness, or to perceive in it the symbol of Jehovah's 
 presence. 
 
 Sometimes an hour's grief makes us quite forget a life 
 of gladness. We take our happiness unconcernedly, but 
 we rage and storm against our miseries. The shortest 
 night eclipses the radiance of the longest day, and one 
 hour of storm is all-sufficient to drown the recollections of 
 long, sweet years of calm. Ah me! that it should be so; 
 that we should so chafe and fret, droop and sink when 
 adversities sweep over us as to unhinge our reason and 
 evoke our bitterest ingratitude. That they work in many 
 souls such dire results witness the exaggerative views 
 concerning earthly miseries which prevail in various quar- 
 ters, leading to dreary pessimisms and snarling cynicisms, 
 and which would crown man's life with the morose and 
 sullen cypress. 
 
 Pascal has said, with pathetic eloquence: "Man is so 
 great that his grandeur appears from the knowledge of 
 his own misery. A tree knows not that it is wretched. 
 True, it is sad to know that we are miserable, but it is 
 also a mark of greatness to be aware of this misery. Thus 
 all the wretchedness of man proves his nobleness. It is 
 the unhappiness of a great lord, the misery of a dethroned 
 king." And yet, unless he understands the cause and the 
 end of his dethronement, it were better for him to be un- 
 conscious of his loss. That it is given him to realize the 
 fact and the depth of his afflictions surely indicates that 
 he is capable of ascertaining their meaning and of falling 
 in with their design. If he is great enough to perceive 
 their reality, it is only reasonable to believe that he is also 
 great enough to so far comprehend their significance as to 
 deal with them intelligently. Of this he has himself been 
 profoundly persuaded; and hence, during all the centuries 
 man has been looking through his tears on the problem of 
 suffering, and with aching heart and weary brain he has 
 9 
 
130 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 been painfully seeking its solution. And in this attitude 
 his moral grandeur comes into a clearer light than it does 
 when he is simply presented as gazing in mute, unques- 
 tioning melancholy on that which he shrinks from and of 
 which he cannot possibly be oblivious. 
 
 The theory of Pessimism, snarled, croaked and moaned 
 by a few elegiac, querimonious philosophers in response to 
 the. saddened "Wherefore?" of humanity, that misery is 
 the natural, unavoidable and irremediable condition of the 
 race, has never succeeded in satisfying the intellect or in 
 pacifying the heart. It has failed to reconcile men to 
 their trials as it has to qualify them to endure their sever- 
 ity. As a system it is a slander on the goodness of Deity, 
 accusing Him of malignancy or charging Him with impo- 
 tency, and as an explanation it is simply an exaggeration 
 of the mystery which it undertakes to unfold. To say, as 
 it does, that the universe is "a gigantic blunder," "an 
 escapade of the Absolute," or "immeasurable lusus na- 
 turae" and that happiness is only a fitful gleam of light 
 to render the prevailing gloom more intense and unen- 
 durable, or to intimate that the end of life is to go down 
 into nothingness, is to asperse the character of God and 
 to leave the question that perplexes untouched and unan- 
 swered. The theory is irrational in its terms and paralyz- 
 ing in its influence. It implies a Headless universe or a 
 heartless Ruler; a reign of cruelty without motive and 
 without advantage, and a creature helpless to resist and 
 powerless to overcome the fiendish tyranny beneath which 
 a merciless fate has placed him. 
 
 Pessimism begins with the repudiation of the opti- 
 mistic system advocated by Leibnitz in his JEssai de 
 Theodicee. It denies that the Creator had from a variety 
 of possible worlds chosen to make this one as the best, 
 but that He had made the worst, and that actually it is 
 worse than none at all. Nevertheless, according to Von 
 
THE PHILOSOPHY OF MISERY. 131 
 
 Hartmann, though the existing world is worse than none 
 at all, still Leibnitz was correct in asserting that it is the 
 best possible, for every possible world is necessarily a bad 
 one. Yea, he argues that it would have been better if the 
 world could have been worse than it is, for if it had been 
 only slightly more wretched humanity before this would 
 have taken its fate in its own hands, and by a supreme act 
 of annihilation would have put an end to the tragedy. It 
 is assumed that all existence is an evil, and that pleasure 
 is negative while pain is absolutely positive. Schopen- 
 hauer looks on what he calls "will" as the cause of all 
 things and the source of universal misery. "Will" in his 
 doctrine stands both for creation and Creatorship, only it 
 is not to be identified with personal volition, but with an 
 abstract, mysterious Infinity composed of numberless and 
 limitless wills. He further declares that it is the nature 
 of "will" to be restless, dissatisfied and corroding, that its 
 greed is insatiable, and that, as a consequence, suffering 
 is unavoidable and inextinguishable. As long as will con- 
 tinues to will, the weary round of disappointments must 
 follow, for no conceivable object can yield more than mo- 
 mentary enjoyment, and therefore, until the will is made 
 to cease willing, black -browed misery must reign. But 
 the cessation of will means the cessation of existence, and 
 only in such an amiable climax can Schopenhauer discern 
 the true solution of the problem of evil. Von Hartmann 
 substitutes for Schopenhauer's metaphysical fiction what 
 he calls "The Unconscious," which is made up of infinite 
 will and omniscience, and which was harmless until it be- 
 gan to create; but from the unfortunate hour when it first 
 called matter into being the deplorable history of pain 
 began. The fearful blunder of creation originated with 
 an unexplainable schism in the Unconscious; Will broke 
 away from its primitive harmony with unconscious Reason, 
 and this wretched universe was the result. The Uncon- 
 
132 ISMS OLD AND new. 
 
 scious attained to the Conscious in man, and is now busy 
 seeking by every means to return to its primal uncon- 
 scious blessedness. This desired end, it is believed, will 
 be consummated through the discovery of the utter empti- 
 ness and hollow illusiveness of life, which will decide men 
 to cease carina: for themselves and determine them no 
 more to propagate their species, and which very likely 
 will be carried into effect by a unanimous and simultane- 
 ous act of self-destruction. Thus the mischievous misad- 
 venture of the Creative Power will be effaced and can- 
 celed in the nothingness of annihilation. But even this 
 poor hope is questioned by Herr Bahnsen, a Pessimist 
 more radical and thorough-going than Von Hartmann, 
 who insists that as the human race by annihilating itself 
 could hardly annihilate the power which originated all 
 things, the world and existence must continue irrational 
 and miserable throughout eternity. Delightful logic! 
 
 If, as is implied throughout these speculations, the uni- 
 verse is one vast tragic theater, the object of which is no- 
 happiness to any one, conducted by a Superhuman Energy 
 resembling a designing mind in everything but conscious- 
 ness, it follows that life is an unqualified curse. And this 
 inference is elaborated with a dreary enthusiasm, and a 
 pertinacious devotion to details, which is edifying if not 
 convincing. " Human life," says Schopenhauer, " oscil- 
 lates between pain and ennui"; and having expressed 
 the thought that these states are its ultimate elements, he 
 adds, "driven by the fear of ennui, men and women rush 
 into society, thinking to gain a fleeting pleasure by escap- 
 ing from themselves. But in vain; their inseparable foe 
 renews his torments only too surely." In the same direc- 
 tion he also writes: "The history of every life is a history 
 of suffering, for the course of life is generally but a series 
 of greater or less misfortunes." — "The real matter of the 
 world-famed monologue in Hamlet may be thus summed 
 
WORTHLESSNESS OF EXISTENCE. 133 
 
 up: Our condition is so wretched that utter annihilation 
 would be decidedly preferable." " If, finally, all the ter- 
 rible pains and sorrows to which his life is ever exposed 
 could be brought before the eyes of each, he would be 
 seized with horror; and if the most obstinate of optimists 
 were led through the hospitals, lazarettos, and surgical 
 operation rooms; through the prisons, torture-chambers, 
 and slaveholds; over the fields of battle and places of 
 execution; if then, those dark abodes of misery, where it 
 creeps out of the view of cold curiosity, were opened to 
 him; and finally, a sight were afforded him of the starva- 
 tion of some Ugolino — he would surely at last perceive 
 what kind of meilleur des mo tides possible this is." And 
 to these gloomy outlines he adds a few dark shadows, 
 which impart a lurid completeness to the picture: "The 
 present is forever becoming the past; the future is quite 
 uncertain, and ever short. Thus is man's life a constant 
 lapse of the present into the dead past, a constant death." 
 — " Further, it is plain that our bodily life is but a con- 
 tinually checked process of dying, an ever postponed 
 death." "At length death must conquer; for by the very 
 fact of birth we are made over to him, and he is only 
 playing awhile with his prey before swallowing it." It 
 is in vain that we suggest to Schopenhauer and Von 
 Hartmann that possibly when the ignorance ■ and impiety 
 of the present are overcome, the future may be prolific in 
 happiness; for they meet all such encouraging hopes with 
 the forlorn assertion " that misery grows with conscious- 
 ness." Hence they remind us that " the more intelligent 
 the man is the more comjiletely does he attain the full 
 quantum of misery; he in whom genius lives suffers most 
 of all"; and more than this, adds Hartmann, "with all our 
 boasted progress the evils of existence are just as great 
 and just as hopeless as they were centuries ago." Thus 
 all expectation of improvement in the condition of hu- 
 
134 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 manity is utterly baseless; and we are shut up either to 
 asceticism for the extinction of the will, which is the root 
 of all our trouble, as commended by Schopenhauer in 
 theory, though unapplied by him in practice; or to utter 
 worldliness, that the illusions of life may be speedily 
 demonstrated, a course seriously advocated by Von Hart- 
 mann, and by him consistently pursued. 
 
 While this morbid creed is remarkable, the favor with 
 which it is being" received is even more so. Dtthring 
 claims that it is " the most sober philosophy of the cen- 
 tury"; and Dr. McCosh, in the Princeton Review, calls 
 attention to the fact that " Of late years German students 
 have been wandering after Schopenhauer and Hartmann; 
 and American and British youths, seeing the crowd, have 
 joined them, and been gazing with them." But beyond 
 the student classes the popularity of Pessimism in some 
 of its forms is startling. Many persons in every commu- 
 nity who do not subscribe to all of its positions unreserv- 
 edly, yet sympathize with its estimate of life and its views 
 of death. Thousands who have never heard the name of 
 the system, and to whom it is meaningless, have already 
 accepted its dreariest expectations and its darkest consola- 
 tions. Grief, trial, disappointment, raises the question in 
 minds inaccessible to Von Hartmann's speculations as to 
 whether, after all, life can be called a blessing. The 
 ambiguity of the term " happiness," as it is commonly 
 used, and the inadequacy of multiplied pleasures, how- 
 ever pure and refined the pleasures may be, to answer to 
 any definition, have prepared the way for the blank de- 
 nial which Pessimists pronounce. It is welcomed as on 
 the whole more rational than any other answer, if not as 
 gratifying. Moreover, the dissolute orders of society hail 
 it with delight. In Paris it is currently reported that 
 books upon this subject are being widely read by the 
 demireps and scoundrels, who find in them some solace- 
 
VON" HARTMANN". 135 
 
 ment for the virtue and integrity they have bartered for 
 fleshly joys. Such works, therefore, have a large audi- 
 ence, and I am inclined to the opinion that it will increase 
 before it diminishes. Not improbably literary men will 
 be tempted by the avidity with which the more senti- 
 mental aspects of this Ism are received by the people, to 
 multiply literature on the subject, and thus to disseminate 
 even more widely than at present these doleful, lugu- 
 brious, sunless, and tenebrious views. Most likely the 
 night will thicken before the daybreak comes, and society 
 return to a kind of philosophic chaos before God shall 
 once more say, "Let there be light." Such being the 
 melancholy outlook, it is surely the duty of earnest in- 
 quirers to do all in their power to mitigate, if they cannot 
 arrest, the impending gloom; and this can only be done 
 by challenging the Pessimistic theory, and suggesting in 
 its stead a more rational and satisfactory explanation of 
 human suffering. 
 
 That the doctrine of the Unconscious is a metaphysical 
 figment, which hardly deserves the attention of serious 
 criticism, no one who is seeking clear views and not mere 
 entertainment from dialectical gymnastics will for a mo- 
 ment question. It is difficult to believe that any person 
 in sober earnestness can expect such a tissue of absurd 
 speculations as Von Hartmann has put forth in the name 
 of philosophy to commend themselves to common sense. 
 When that Infinite Indefiniteness which is substituted for 
 the Almighty is represented as divided, the Will breaking 
 away from the unconscious Reason, and the unconscious 
 Reason then seeking to overtake and annihilate the per- 
 nicious Will, into .what incoherencies and contradictions 
 of thought are we thrown ! How can the Will, apart from 
 conscious intelligence, create, and how can intelligence, 
 deprived of will, determine ? To will anything implies a 
 conscious conception of the thing to be willed, and will 
 
136 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 can no more will without intelligence than intelligence 
 can will without will. But according to Von Hartmann 
 we are to credit that the universe sprang from the inde- 
 pendent activity of a will without plan and without 
 knowledge, and that now an intelligence, which was once 
 unconscious, is seeking to counteract the maleficent blun- 
 dering of this will, although by the terms of the preceding 
 proposition not a vestige of volitional energy is left to it 
 wherewith to execute its benevolent intentions. Such an 
 astounding cosmogony destroys itself. Its terms are ir- 
 reconcilable with each other, and contrary to the funda- 
 mental principles of thought. Assuredly neither this 
 involved hypothesis nor that of Schopenhauer possesses 
 any advantages over the Theism of Scripture; neither is 
 as intelligible nor as rational, and neither is as satisfactory 
 to the heart nor as useful to the life. We may, therefore, 
 dismiss the cloudy metaphysics of Pessimism as fanciful 
 and profitless, and direct our attention to its more obvious 
 teachings and tendencies. That these are equally un- 
 worthy of confidence may be inferred from the peculiar 
 circumstances which have always attended the origin and 
 progress of the theory. Never, as far as I can ascertain 
 from its history, has it appeared among a people in the 
 more youthful and natural stages of national development. 
 It has only risen, like a grim shadow or unearthly monster, 
 in after years, when civilization has introduced artificial 
 methods of estimating things, or general corruption has 
 seriously impaired the tone of buoyancy and hope. When 
 religion has been asphyxied by impurities, when manli- 
 ness has been atrophied by defective intellectual nourish- 
 ment, and tenclerest affections have been gangrened by 
 lascivious • indulgence and moral filthiness, then has this 
 hideous Philosophical Nightmare disturbed the repose of 
 much afflicted peoples. Among the Hindus it followed on 
 the decline of the healthier Vedic-Faith, and was simply 
 
ORIGIN OF PESSIMISM. 137 
 
 the expression of the wretched degradation into which 
 entire tribes were falling. Brahmanism was not the first 
 religion of the East. The first, if we may judge from the 
 remnants of its literature which have descended to us, was 
 jocund, elastic, taking bright views of life and destiny, 
 and wholly free from Pessimistic taints. But wars, ambi- 
 tions, the growth of caste, and the multiplication of other 
 evils, undermined its strength, and in its place arose the 
 gigantic and gloomy worship which for centuries oppressed 
 India. Even this system was not without some advan- 
 tages, but they quickly disappeared, and in a time of 
 densest darkness the reformation known as Buddhism was 
 inaugurated. This took its color from the age in which it 
 originated, and while it corrected some abuses and pro- 
 tested against more, it taught that evil is the very essence 
 of existence, that even in the lives of the greatest gods 
 misery is feared, and that all worlds have been made in 
 vain and are doomed to wretchedness. Among the Greeks 
 and Romans this wormwood-faith never prevailed; and 
 even Diogenes went not as far in cynicism as Gautama. 
 These nations were not sufficiently morbid for it to take 
 root in their intellectual soil. Too cheerful, too active, 
 too discerning for such an insalubrious creed to suggest 
 itself to them, it was reserved for the grave-minded, grim- 
 brooding and tobacco-beclouded Germans to revive and 
 naturalize it among Europeans. And this was not effected 
 in recent prosperous, united times; but when disastrous 
 wars, social depressions and commercial stagnations had 
 prostrated the nation, had darkened its mind, and crushed 
 its heart, Schopenhauer wrote of the great earth-sorrow. 
 If it shall be thought singular that it should retain its 
 vitality in these days of "unexampled prosperity," let it 
 not be forgotten that we have drifted into materialism and 
 secularism, and that in a different way, but just as truly, 
 our century is as diseased as the last, and that to the un- 
 
138 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 wholesome condition of both must we ascribe the beginning 
 and the advancement of Pessimistic philosophy. Now, 
 from these facts its seems legitimate to conclude that there 
 must be something abnormal in a theory which is thus 
 identified with abnormal conditions of society. As we 
 have seen, it flourishes only in a sickly, pestilential social 
 atmosphere, and it is no more than reasonable to suspect 
 that it simply exhales the poison of its surroundings, and 
 is, therefore, a death-bearing tree, under whose shadow 
 no mind should be tempted to seek repose. 
 
 It should also be remembered that it is natural for man, 
 whatever he may profess, to act on the belief that life is 
 not only desirable, but is really worth taking no small de- 
 gree of trouble to enjoy. This was evidently the rule of 
 Schopenhauer's conduct, however it may have run con- 
 trary to his creed. He was no ascetic, and some of his 
 most ardent admirers approximate more closely to his ap- 
 preciation of the good things to be found in this world 
 than to his intellectual ability. Further, it should not be 
 overlooked that many who charge themselves with the 
 task of exposing the hollowness of existing institutions, 
 and who point out most distinctly the unutterable woes of 
 the race, are not Pessimists, and have no sympathy with 
 their lugubrious estimates, but, like Rousseau and Byron, 
 believe in the attainability of happiness, and, like Carlyle 
 and Heine, acknowledge a supreme, satisfying Something 
 somewhere. They who are most extreme in their denun- 
 ciation of shams are most fully persuaded of an ultimate 
 outcome in goodness and blessedness. Why, then, accept 
 the ungladdening theory of life, painfully elaborated by 
 a few moaning philosophers as an impartial statement, 
 and why should we attach so much importance to their 
 tearful array of horrors, when, on the whole, human con- 
 sciousness testifies to a clear excess of enjoyment over 
 suffering ? 
 
EXHAUSTLESS CONSOLATIONS. 139 
 
 An apostle speaks of our afflictions as " light " in com- 
 parison with the " exceeding weight of glory " that awaits 
 us. But, though the sufferings of the present are not 
 worthy to be compared with the blessedness in reserve for 
 us, we are not to conclude that here and now the contrast 
 is not as marked. Inspiration assures us that " God's 
 mercies are new every morning and fresh every evening," 
 and David reminds his soul, in language we may all adopt, 
 that He redeems its life from destruction, crowns it with 
 loving-kindness, and satisfies it with good things, so that 
 its youth is renewed like the eagle's. According to the 
 entire tenor of Holy Writ, the pleasures of existence far 
 outweigh its miseries. The consciousness of being, the 
 sense of personal freedom, and the realization of individual 
 power over nature, all yield the most enduring satisfaction. 
 Placed in a world where we have dominion over the works 
 of God's hands, we find them serving us and constantly 
 ministering to our enjoyment. The sun not only lights 
 our way by day, but suffuses our thoughts with images of 
 splendor. The stars not only shed their radiance on our 
 darkness, but penetrate our minds with subduing and 
 sacred influences. 
 
 Every beautiful object in the universe, be it above, 
 around or within us, has "a perpetual joy-producing 
 power." The unobtrusive majesty of the heavens, the 
 stern grandeur of the hills, the mobile loveliness, culmi- 
 nating at times into sublimity, of the ocean, the modest 
 gorgeousness of the flowers, whose varied hues remind us 
 of the words of Ruskin: "Of all God's gifts to the sight 
 of man, color is the holiest, the most divine, the most sol- 
 emn ; " the somber trees, glittering rainbows, golden sun- 
 sets, and the endless forms that diversify and glorify the 
 world, appeal to our deepest emotions, and create the im- 
 pression that Spirit is manifested in all, and is seeking to 
 charm us from our griefs, and exalt us above our sorrows: 
 
140 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 " There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 
 There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
 There is society where none intrudes 
 
 By the deep sea, and music in its roar." 
 
 Compared with these sources of enjoyment, how mea- 
 ger, trivial and contemptible our crosses, burdens and 
 disappointments appear. These we have always and ever 
 accessible, the others occasionally and temporarily. But 
 am I reminded that a speck in the eye will obliterate the 
 beauty of a universe, and a defect in the ear will drown 
 its harmony, and a grief-drop in the heart submerge the 
 ocean of consolation that gleams around it calmly? True; 
 but we should not overlook the fact that the misery is 
 incomparably less in magnitude than these measureless 
 and fathomless springs of delight, and that the latter offers 
 more than a compensation for the former. 
 
 But in addition to the blessedness which God has com- 
 mitted to nature for the comfort of His creatures, we 
 should realize that He has enriched our life by the gift of 
 His Son our Lord. Christ is called the " Consolation of 
 Israel," and consolation He is to all mankind. I fear we do 
 not consider the magnitude of this gift as we should, and 
 I am very sure that no language can do it justice. There 
 is not only that which is amazing in this descent of God 
 from Himself, but there is in it something assuring and 
 comforting as well. The Incarnation attests the interest 
 of the Almighty in the race, indicates that its loathsome- 
 ness cannot repel His love, or its waywardness alienate 
 His heart. It was the apprehension of this fact that pro- 
 duced so mighty an impression on the ancient world. As 
 Macaulay says, " It was before the Deity embodied in a 
 human form, walking among men, partaking of their 
 infirmities, leaning on their bosoms, weeping over their 
 graves, slumbering in the manger, bleeding on the cross, 
 that the prejudices of the synagogue, and the doubts of 
 
THE INCARNATION. 141 
 
 the academy, and the pride of the portico, and the fasces 
 of the lictor, and the swords of thirty legions, were hum- 
 bled in the dust." The people of all classes and condi- 
 tions realized that however fallen and degraded they were, 
 God had not abandoned them, was not ashamed to wear 
 their likeness, or unwilling to stoop to their level, that 
 they might be lifted up nearer to His. This conviction 
 brought with it a sense of personal elevation, and a desire, 
 more or less pronounced, to do something worthy this 
 compassionate condescension. Thus ought it always to 
 affect us. But whether it does or not, it yet remains true 
 that the Incarnation articulates many precious assurances. 
 It removes all suspicion of a malignant purpose in crea- 
 tion, or of an evil will potent to create, and of an uncon- 
 scious reason impotent to restrain. When feeling friend- 
 less and forsaken, it assures us that God is mindful. When 
 sadly oppressed with a sense of personal un worthiness, it 
 reminds us of the value the Almighty attaches to humani- 
 ty; when disheartened by the repeated losses of fortune 
 and friends, it reveals inexhaustible affluence in the Su- 
 preme; and when death invades, and things of earth are 
 fading from the sight, and its charms have perished from 
 desire, the Incarnation proclaims anew the amazing union 
 of God with man, pledging alike his immortality and 
 felicity. 
 
 These sources of pleasure would hardly be available 
 were it not for another, — one that lies within the reach of 
 all and which imparts to everything a charm, even glori- 
 fying the storm-cloud with the rainbow's brilliant hues. 
 You have frequently heard the preacher in rugged phrase 
 urge the people listening to his words to "repent and be 
 converted." Possibly you have been disposed to sneer at 
 his earnest exhortation, and to hold in derision the duty 
 he enjoined. And yet the change expressed by the now 
 familiar term "conversion" is of all others the most pre- 
 
142 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 cious for this life, whatever may be its relation to the life 
 hereafter. When the Scriptures describe it they employ 
 the most radical figures of speech to convey an adequate 
 idea of its grandeur. They call it a "new birth," a "resur- 
 rection from the dead," and they liken it to the opening 
 of blind eyes, and to freedom from a prison-house. These 
 words imply a total transformation of the man. His re- 
 stored sight enables him to see evil in its true light, and 
 he shrinks from it and saves himself from many sorrows; 
 his soul, emancipated from the grave of dull materialism, 
 rises to the consciousness of a spiritual universe and 
 clearly discerns that "life is more than meat and the 
 body than raiment," and being freed from bondage to 
 tyrant passion, he gladly accepts the yoke of Christ and 
 rests securely in His grace. It is this change that enables 
 us to appreciate and appropriate the beauties and joys 
 that nature, and religion, too, lavish so abundantly upon 
 us. Thomas Carlyle, albeit not a Christian after the 
 straitest sort, and somewhat unorthodox in his speech 
 and thought, yet in his Reminiscences can recall a day, 
 forever notable in his calendar, when he was transformed 
 from his old self into something higher. In referring to 
 this period, he writes: "This year I found that I had con- 
 quered all my skepticisms, agonizing doubtings, fearful 
 wrestling with the foul and vile and soul-murdering mud- 
 gods of my epoch; had escaped as from a worse than Tar- 
 tarus, with all its Phlegethons and Stygian quagmires, and 
 was emerging free in spirit into the eternal blue of ether, 
 where, blessed be heaven, I have for the spiritual part ever 
 since lived. . . . What my pious joy and gratitude then 
 was let the pious soul figure. In a fine and veritable 
 sense, I, poor, obscure, without outlook, almost without 
 worldly hope, had become independent of the Avorld. 
 What was death itself, from the world, to what I had 
 come through ? I understood well what the old Christian 
 
carlyle's conversion-. 143 
 
 people meant by * conversion,' by God's infinite mercy to 
 them." He adds: "For a number of years I had ... a 
 constant inward happiness that was quite royal and su- 
 preme, in which all temporal aid was transient and insig- 
 nificant, and which essentially remains with me still, 
 though far oftener eclipsed and lying deeper down than 
 then." In almost identical terms have all the saints, — 
 the Pauls, the Augustines, the Bunyans, the Newtons, — 
 recorded the marvelous dealings of God with them; and 
 similar the experience of every man who yearns for knowl- 
 edge of a higher world than this poor, noisy, muddy one 
 of sight and sense. Think not, then, lightly of this gra- 
 cious change, but, inspired by the words of the gruff- 
 grim cynic, seek that spirit which will make God's benefi- 
 cence clear and dear to you forever. Not alone, however, 
 should the Divine provisions for our happiness by their 
 magnitude be measured; they should as well be estimated 
 by their multiplicity. They are manifold, reaching in par- 
 ticular to every relation and condition of life; so numer- 
 ous are they that they cannot be counted up in order or 
 followed in their bearings. As the universe in vastness, 
 they are also like the universe in endless variety and com- 
 pleteness. Not a sorrow, not a burden, not a temptation, 
 not a bereavement, not a disappointment, not a care, not 
 a groan or tear, but has its antidote in God's rich and in- 
 exhaustible resources, which are available for human com- 
 fort. You cannot imagine a state of evil, of grief how- 
 ever deep, of wretchedness however profound, but the 
 Almighty has anticipated. He has given us exceeding 
 great and precious promises, and with the promises the 
 more precious realities, and by these we may judge how 
 completely he has provided against the ills from which we 
 suffer, though we never may be able to explore their deep 
 and loving wealth of meaning. 
 
 But while these manifold sources of happiness may be 
 
144 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 admitted, there yet confronts us the huge problem, not 
 without difficulties, perhaps not wholly without inexplical- 
 ities, of human suffering. What can be said about it? 
 What can be offered by way of solution ? Evidently noth- 
 ing on the part of Pessimism, for the repeated picturings 
 of its intensity, in which it indulges, do not possess the 
 first element of elucidation. The Bible may not be able to 
 remove all mystery, but its account of the matter is cer- 
 tainly less demonstrably false and less palpably fabulous. 
 
 According to its teachings God is love; and all the 
 processes of severity in His government are in harmony 
 with this spirit. He is seeking the well-being of his crea- 
 tures, and as they are moral agents, and as they are in 
 sin, suffering becomes an essential condition of their 
 progress. Unquestionably it is represented by the Sacred 
 Book as retributive, but it is also described as being dis- 
 ciplinary and corrective. While it is in some sense the 
 result of transgression, and while in some cases it simply 
 serves to mark the heinousness of iniquity, and to brand 
 it with its true character in this world and in the world to 
 come, it is broadly designed, in this life at least, to re- 
 strain, to rebuke, to rectify, and to reclaim. It is a 
 measure of reform, a means of development, a refining 
 and elevating force in the education of man. This is 
 especially the view of Paul in the chapter from which the 
 text has been chosen. He compares the dealings of God 
 with us to those of an earthly father with his children. 
 Chastening he alludes to as a sign of sonship; and argues 
 that it is inflicted not for the pleasure of the parent but 
 for the profit of the child. He declares that it is a proof 
 of love in Him who orders it, should be recognized as 
 such by him who receives it, and should be endured and 
 valued on account of "the peaceable fruit of righteous- 
 ness " which it is fitted to produce. 
 
 This explanation is, in my opinion, worthy the most 
 
SUFFERING IN ART. 145 
 
 serious consideration of every tried and tired searcher for 
 truth, bringing to the mind content and to the soul com- 
 fort. 
 
 It is deserving of note that this view does not seek to 
 lessen or to hide the grievousness of affliction. Truly is 
 it said by the apostle in the text, that " no chastening for 
 the present seemeth to be joyous." He does not mis- 
 represent its real character. It is in itself an evil, what- 
 ever good may flow from it; it is a curse, although it may 
 yield a blessing. Man cannot bring himself to desire it, 
 and can hardly refrain from shrinking at its approach. It 
 were unnatural for him to covet adversity, disease, and 
 disaster; or to welcome among his household treasures 
 the destroyer death. Who is there that does not instinct- 
 ively try to avert calamity and to evade correction ? The 
 child does not anxiously seek the rod, though healing 
 may result from its stripes; and neither do we pine for 
 chastisement, though assured that it is administered for 
 our profit. Poets, philosophers, painters have rightly in- 
 terpreted this feeling when in their works they have 
 sought to express the human fear of suffering. The 
 dread of it, the aversion to it which is common to us all, 
 they reproduce in their representations of its character. 
 We see in their conceptions, whether wrought out by pen 
 or chisel, that which gives pain, not pleasure, or at the 
 most only painful pleasure, which repels while it fasci- 
 nates. The lamentations of antiquity over the misery of 
 life do not enliven our spirits or gladden our heart. 
 When Homer plaintively declares that no creatures are 
 more miserable than men; when Pindar represents them 
 as a shadowy dream, or Sophocles compares them to a 
 vapor's shade; or when Pliny says that many have 
 thought it the best lot never to have been born, we are 
 not thrilled with delight at our condition, nor find our- 
 selves inclined to rejoice. Rather, if we are endowed 
 10 
 
146 ISMS OLD A3STD NEW. 
 
 with a contemplative mind, we are filled with melancholy 
 and overcome by sadness. However heroic Prometheus 
 may awaken in us a sense of awe and admiration, we have 
 no yearnings for his rock and vulture; and however the 
 Laocoon may impress us with its sublimity, we would not 
 willingly take the place of the tall, massive, central figure, 
 around which is twined the serpent's slimy folds, and 
 whose face reveals the agony of despair. Niobe in tears 
 awakens no desire for partnership in her grief; and what- 
 ever other forms ancient or modern art has given to suf- 
 fering, they elicit from us no longing to realize them in 
 our own experience. Upon them all we read the verifica- 
 tion of the apostolic statement: "Now no chastening for 
 the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous." 
 
 That this is so should not occasion us anxiety or dis- 
 tress. I suppose that there are those among my readers 
 who regard their lack of avidity to receive afflictions as a 
 sign of unpardonable weakness, or of absolute degener- 
 acy. Because Paul once said that he gloried in tribula- 
 tions, they may have formed the impression that they, 
 too, should contemplate them with delight. But if they 
 will only recall the entire passage where this expres- 
 sion occurs, they will perceive that it was uttered in view 
 of the patience and the hope which sufferings are calcu- 
 lated to produce, and not because of anything pleasurable 
 in the sufferings themselves. He gloried in the one for 
 the sake of the other; but he was far from contradicting 
 in his letter to the Romans the sentiment of our text, 
 which he addressed to the Hebrews. That we feel the 
 sharpness of God's rod, and cry out under the weight of 
 His hand, are not evidences of inbred corruption, but of 
 our human sensibility, without which the design of chas- 
 tisement would fail. God means us to be pained when 
 He sends painful afflictions; He means us to weep when 
 He touches the springs of sorrow, and he means us to 
 
UNWISE COMFORTERS. 147 
 
 moan when the plowshare goes through our heart. If we 
 did not feel the miseries we experience, if we would just 
 as soon be freighted with them as with joys, if our na- 
 tures were indifferent to either; that is, if we were imper- 
 vious to impressions, then the possibility of their influenc- 
 ing us for good would cease. This sensitiveness, which 
 morbid souls interpret as something inconsistent with 
 piety, is the condition on which the beneficent action of 
 chastisement depends, just as d notability and pliability 
 are required in the material on which the plastic hand 
 would exercise its skill. We do not plow adamant. " The 
 hard rock that breaks the share will not nourish the seed, 
 but the soft earth that yields to the sharp iron will bear 
 the harvest;" and the brittle stone that shivers beneath the 
 sculptor's chisel grows never into form of beauty, while 
 the white marble, which resists and yet succumbs, grace- 
 fully receives the fairest ideal tlrat ever haunted poet's 
 soul. 
 
 Let us not, then, mourn because we shrink from evil; 
 for that shrinking proves that the evil will not be in vain 
 when it comes. Neither let us despond if, while the 
 storms rage and beat upon us, we fail to discern their 
 justice and beneficence. When driven by their fury it is 
 natural that we should be blinded, confused, and startled; 
 and it is equally natural that we should be incapable of 
 candid thought and reasonable judgment. Yet I have 
 known persons, when the whirlwind had smitten a fellow- 
 being to the ground and left him mourning in dire dis- 
 tress, wonder why he was not comforted by their pious 
 platitudes and sustained by their wearisome conventional- 
 isms. Yea, they have even affected solicitude for the 
 spiritual condition of him who, when crushed, maddened, 
 and lacerated, could not reply in set phrases to their jar- 
 gon about resignation and submission. Believe me, it is 
 no time for words when the wounds are fresh and bleed- 
 
148 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ing; no time for homilies when the lightning's shaft has 
 smitten and the man lies stunned and stricken. Then let 
 the comforter be silent; let him sustain by his presence, 
 not by his preaching; by his sympathetic silence, not by 
 his speech. "Afterward," when the storm is spent, he may 
 venture to open his mouth; "afterward," when the morn 
 has dawned, he may seek "to justify the ways of God to 
 man;" for "afterward" the sufferer will be prepared to 
 hear, and " afterward " the sufferer himself may be able to 
 extract sweetness from bitterness, music from mourning, 
 songs from sorrow, and " the peaceable fruit of righteous- 
 ness " from the root of wretchedness and woe. 
 
 The ultimate profitableness of chastisement is the next 
 aspect of the subject suggested by the text. Paul assures 
 us that it is not necessarily barren of results, but that it 
 "yieldeth "; — "tribulation worketh patience; and patience, 
 experience; and experience, hope;" and "these light af- 
 flictions which endure but for a moment shall work in us 
 a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Not 
 in vain need our sufferings be; not in vain need our tears 
 be shed; but from them we may reap immortal blessedness 
 and imperishable fruit. 
 
 It is a fact that strikingly points in the direction of 
 this conclusion, that the most powerful and progressive 
 nations are those which have been called to pass through 
 the severest trials and the most painful convulsions. The 
 life of Greece grew and became strong by these means; 
 the Romans advanced to their commanding position along 
 the highway of war and revolution, while England has 
 secured and preserved her greatness at the cost of ease 
 and quiet. She has lived in a hurricane for a thousand 
 years; she has been devastated by civil wars; she has 
 been prostrated by commercial panics, and has rarely en- 
 joyed a season of absolute repose. The same is true of 
 America, only in a less degree. The miseries incidental 
 
SUFFERINGS OF GENIUS. 149 
 
 to the revolution seemed to develop sterling virtues; the 
 war for the Union elevated the tone of our national char- 
 acter; and the recent prostration of our business interests, 
 that entailed untold sufferings on the people, failed not to 
 yield us enduring profit. And what is thus manifest in 
 the history of nations is equally apparent in that of in- 
 dividuals. The men whom we count great were not un- 
 acquainted with privation, grief, and agony. They grew 
 in volcanic soil; they were fostered by the fcehn, and were 
 nourished by the desert. Genius has ever had to be cru- 
 cified that it might rise from the dead on the third day; 
 virtue has ever had to wear the crown of thorns for it to 
 inherit the diadem of praise. The mystery of grace has 
 been constantly reexhibited in the lives of poets, artists, 
 and reformers. Rich in ideas, they have had to become 
 poor in fortune that we, through their poverty, might be 
 made rich. I do not now recall any great production or 
 any sublime endeavor that was not preceded by suffering 
 of some kind. Pascal sorrowed deeply before he thought 
 sweetly; and he thought painfully before he wrote sym- 
 pathetically. Milton had tasted of misfortune's cup and 
 had braved the storms of four and fifty years before he 
 could sins: of Paradise and of man's woeful fall. Poor 
 Jean Paul but expresses his own experience when he says 
 that the bird sings sweeter whose cage has been darkened, 
 for his song broke not on human ear until he had strug- 
 gled long with the thick, chill shadows of poverty. Car- 
 lyle was a dreary dyspeptic before he accomplished any- 
 thing great in literature; and but for Robert Hall's spinal 
 malady the world might never have been thrilled by his 
 matchless eloquence. A gentle, humble poet once de- 
 clared that his soul was in his poems; but it is only after 
 familiarity with anguish that the soul seems capable of 
 conceiving ideals above mediocrity and worthy of being 
 actualized either in stately verse or in gleaming mar- 
 
150 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ble. Perhaps this accounts for the fact, to which Stol- 
 berg calls attention, that the faces of the immortal an- 
 tique statues of gods and men wear an expression of se- 
 vere and serious melancholy. This also may explain the 
 pensive sadness that marks the loftier and deeper poetry. 
 The anguish that disciplines mind and heart, and of which 
 is born their most magnificent creations, necessarily leaves 
 trace of its sighs and tears on page and canvas and on 
 sculptured stone. And perhaps it is owing to the unen- 
 durableness of this inward agony that so many of earth's 
 gifted ones speedily succumb to death after they have 
 charmed the world with the plaintive melody of their 
 sweetness. The fires that quicken their powers consume 
 their life; the conflicts that develop their strength under- 
 mine their vigor, and the sorrowful strife that violently 
 rouses slumbering greatness, and that achieves at a stroke 
 undying fame, shortens the number of their days. 
 
 " The mightiest tone that music knows 
 
 But breaks the harp-string with the sound ; 
 And genius still, the more it glows, 
 But wastes the lamp whose life bestows 
 The light it sheds around." 
 
 If chastisement is thus efficacious in awakening genius, 
 it is natural to conclude that it is potent in perfecting 
 character. According to the testimony of Paul in this 
 chapter, it is sent upon us that we may be made partakers 
 of God's holiness. As common opaque substances crystal- 
 lize through the action of fire into sapphires, emeralds, 
 and other precious stones, so the carnal man, through the 
 power of suffering, may be transformed into the spiritual. 
 As I have seen the dull, leaden clouds and the chilly rains 
 at evening time transmuted by the setting sun into golden 
 mountains and into mists of fire, and seen every water-line 
 of the shower changed into an effulgent thread connecting 
 earth with heaven, so have I known the declining orb of 
 
THE SCHOOL OF SORROW. 151 
 
 prosperity to surcharge the gloomy thoughts and driving- 
 passions that darkened the firmament of the soul with a 
 strange light, — a light that converted night into day and 
 scowling deformities into shapes of beauty. Of Christ 
 it is written that He was "made perfect through suffer- 
 ing;" and, while the declaration may specifically refer 
 to His official qualification as mediator, it can hardly be 
 supposed to include nothing else. Remember it is also 
 said : " For in that He Himself hath suffered, being 
 tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted;" 
 "For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched 
 with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points 
 tempted like as we are, yet without sin." Here His ability 
 to rescue us from our trials is attributed to His own ex- 
 perience in trial, which is but another way of saying that 
 He attained this height gradually and through the instru- 
 mentality of painful vicissitudes. We are told that " He 
 grew in wisdom and in knowledge," and the school where- 
 in much of it was acquired was evidently the school of 
 suffering. And there also must the disciple learn; and 
 many who have returned from its solemn courts have given 
 abundant proofs that they have not submitted to its dis- 
 cipline in vain. 
 
 Among the personal advantages which they seem to 
 derive from its severe regime may be mentioned increased 
 self-reliance, patience, sympathy, charity, and devoutness. 
 These precious graces have frequently glorified and 
 crowned the characters of those who have been "tempest- 
 tossed and afflicted." Their dreary failures and disas- 
 ters, which leave them friendless in the hour of need, 
 which alienate from them human support, and which con- 
 vince them of the selfishness of their fellows, throw them 
 back on their own energies and the helpfulness of God. 
 Whatever reserve force slumbers in them is quickened, 
 stimulated, and brought into action by their trial, and they 
 
152 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 become conscious of a new manhood born of the tempest. 
 In their solitude they look to the Invisible, and their 
 spiritual sight, clarified by their tears, discerns in Him 
 unchanging Fatherhood. By the hands of faith, made 
 sensitive through pain, they feel for Him in the darkness, 
 and discover that "He is not far from every one of us." 
 Losing man, they find God ; ceasing to lean on their 
 fellow-beings, they come to realize how to rest in self, sus- 
 tained by that arm whose strength is measureless. The dis- 
 appointments experienced, and the evanescence of earthly 
 possessions and of earthly joys rudely forced upon them 
 by consuming blows, refine their natures of worldly am- 
 bitions and desires, and gradually enable them to bear 
 without murmuring the misfortunes of their lot. They 
 are brought to value time less, and eternity more ; to 
 give place to more of heaven in their hearts, and to less 
 of earth. And as their sorrows multiply their patience 
 grows, until, with sweet, unruffled quiet, they can con- 
 front the ills of life, and, though inwardly wincing, can 
 calmly pursue their way to the restful grave, while their 
 old, harsh voices are softly cadenced into sweetest melody 
 like the faint notes of an angel's whispered song. As 
 patience deepens, charity and sympathy increase. They 
 draw near to others, pitying their woes and forgetting 
 their sad follies. Their own weaknesses make them con- 
 siderate of their fellow-beings, and their own loneliness 
 makes them kind and thoughtful. Griefs melt their stub- 
 born hearts to tenderness, failures humble their pride to 
 lowliness, afflictions and bereavements subdue their bitter 
 discontents, and fill them with sweet harmonies of love 
 and peace. Schiller sublimely sings: 
 
 " If, in the woes of actual human life, — 
 If thou could' st see the serpent strife 
 
 Which the Greek art has made divine in stone, 
 Could'st see the writhing limbs, the livid cheek, 
 
THE FAILURE OF AFFLICTIONS. 153 
 
 Note every paug, and hearken every shriek, 
 
 Of some despairing, lost Laocoon, 
 The human nature would thyself subdue, 
 
 To share the human woe before thine e}e ; — 
 Thy cheek would pale, and all thy soul be true 
 
 To man's great sympathy." 
 
 And they who have learned in the school of anguish, 
 and of whose graces I have spoken, have attained to the 
 poet's ideal, and measurably to the image of Him who 
 "was made perfect through suffering." 
 
 But not all who pass its portals are thus enriched. 
 That they are I have not presumed to intimate; such a 
 thing I dare not here affirm. The text does not teach it, 
 the Bible does not warrant it. Chastisement does not 
 necessarily "yield the peaceable fruit of righteousness." 
 It is conditioned; it is promised only to those who are 
 "exercised" by their trials and calamities. Many a time 
 have men and women been made harder, colder, unkinder, 
 and more irreligious by the bitterness of their lot. They 
 have been taught, but they would not learn; they have 
 been bereaved, but they grew no better; they have been 
 deprived of their health, friends and fortune, but they 
 were drawn no nearer heaven. Ah me! it is a sad sight 
 to see one who has lost this world and is careless of the 
 other, who has no hope here and none in the hereafter; 
 who after all the scourgings he has endured has gained no 
 wisdom and no profit. Sad indeed to think that he may 
 so have perverted the meaning of God's discipline as to 
 see in it only unjust harshness and cruelty, and hence to 
 have grown under it cynical, morose, discontented and 
 defiant. Such people I have met with. Complaining, 
 murmuring, fretful; their hearts clothed with blackness 
 and their faces with anger, they would not believe any- 
 thing good of God, but, rushing into Pessimistic folly, 
 have cherished their maddening thoughts of injury to the 
 
154 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 last. They have preferred to think of Him as a tyrant, 
 and themselves as outraged victims, whose only recourse 
 is moody melancholy. But how vain and foolish in this 
 manner to rebel ag'ainst suffering-. Every creature has 
 to meet it, has to bear it, and all our defiant talk is 
 of no avail. If we will, we can pluck a fragrant flower 
 from the thorn-bush; if we so determine, we can obtain 
 the fairest colors from the mire; but if we are lacerated to 
 death by the sharp spines of the one, or are buried in the 
 ooze of the other, we have only ourselves to blame. Who- 
 soever is rightly "exercised" by his afflictions will find 
 them working together for good; whosoever is not, will 
 find them working together for evil. What I suppose the 
 apostle means by this expression is simply that the wise 
 man will lay his trials soberly and seriously to heart, will 
 seek to trace their origin and discover their design. He 
 will meditate upon them, not in the proud spirit of him 
 who disdains correction and feels that he is above chastise- 
 ment. He will ponder them, not in the mood of one 
 whose vanity has received a shock, and whose self-esteem 
 has been mortified. No, not like these; for these are they 
 who stumble on in arrogant folly to the end. 
 
 He who is "exercised" aright will realize that he has 
 much to learn, and that God alone can teach. Conscious 
 of his sonship, he will feel that he has a right to enjoy his 
 Father's discipline and care, and that God would be deal- 
 ing with him as an alien were He to forego its rigid admin- 
 istration. He desires the interest of Divinity in his wel- 
 fare, though it may lead to bitter experiences, and he calls 
 upon Him to deal with him as a child lest he should prove 
 an outcast. Believing in the Father's love and wisdom, 
 he is assured that no unnecessary stroke will fall, and no 
 useless or unendurable loss be inflicted. When the dark- 
 ness thickens, when misery increases, when sun, moon and 
 stars fail from his little heaven of earthly joy, he will 
 
SANCTIFIED SUFFERING. 155 
 
 meekly bow beneath the rod, or draw closer to the hand 
 that wields it, and will look up into his Father's face to 
 discern the meaning of the scourge. And when by faith 
 he sees that the Father's face is sadder than his own poor 
 human heart, he will cease from all repinings, and will put 
 away everything that grieves a love so tender and severe. 
 It is this spirit that converts afflictions into blessings, 
 and it is this spirit that perceives the reason why our life 
 is beset by ills, and is burdened with unnumbered cares. 
 When it is fostered ghastly Pessimism will cease to haunt, 
 and a healthier philosophy of the evil in the earth prevail. 
 Cultivate it, one and all; cultivate it as you would taste 
 some drops of happiness in this weary world, and cultivate 
 it as you would carry with you a nature refined from sin 
 to that world where the ministry of chastisement is un- 
 known. And when the gates of this school of suffering 
 forever close in death, may the portals of heaven open to 
 your rejoicing souls, and there the peaceable fruit of 
 righteousness eternally be yours. 
 
BUDDHISM. 
 
 "He was not that light, but was sent to bear witness of that 
 light." John i. 8. 
 
 " The Scripture of the Saviour of the World, 
 Lord Buddha, — Prince Sidd&rtha styled on earth, — 
 In earth and heavens and hells incomparable, 
 All-honored, Wisest, Best, most Pitiful ; 
 The Teacher of Nirvana and the law." 
 
 Edwin Arnold. 
 
 JOHN was not the only herald of the light. Others 
 before him were as the gray of morning to the rising 
 of the king of clay. In other lands, and in times remote, 
 prophets and reformers, some of whom were even looked 
 upon as saviors, had appeared, preparing the thought of 
 the world, both by their doctrines and their lives, for the 
 approach of Him who should be alike its Teacher and its 
 Redeemer. Such were Confucius, Lao-tse, Zarathustra, 
 and, perhaps beyond all others, that personage now be- 
 coming widely known through the poem of Edwin Arnold, 
 entitled The Light of Asia, — Gautama Buddha. 
 
 During the past few years western nations have be- 
 come profoundly interested in the religions of ancient 
 India. There is in them so much that is giantesque, mys- 
 tical and majestic that they fascinate as well as inform 
 the European and American mind. Especially are Chris- 
 tian scholars drawn to them, because of the parallelism 
 they furnish to some of the great truths taught in the 
 Bible, and which seem to indicate a common Aryan origin, 
 and to point to a primeval unity of faith. An additional 
 value is also being attached to them, as they afford a scale 
 of measurement by which the character of Jesus Christ 
 
 156 
 
THE MANY SAVIORS. 157 
 
 and the dignity of His mission can be graduated. You 
 are doubtless aware of the fact that modern infidel writers 
 and speakers are accustomed to group in one class the 
 founders of all religions. They represent them as putting 
 forth the same claims, as doing substantially the same 
 work, as pursuing practically the same career, and as be- 
 ing entitled to about the same respect. In their artificial 
 category they include our Savior. Their avowed design is 
 to create the impression that, ranking with a definite order 
 of men, He is worthy of no higher homage than they. 
 Taking, for instance, the life of Buddha, they paint in 
 vivid colors his self-abnegation, his temptations, his ex- 
 alted ethics, the sufferings he endured, the confidence he 
 inspired, the worship he received, and the superstitious 
 myths to which he gave rise, and they argue from analogy 
 that if such a life is explicable without recourse to the 
 supernatural, that of Jesus Christ can be accounted for 
 without its aid. To not a few this reasoning is conclusive; 
 and if the followers of Christ were not as familiar with the 
 literature of the subject as their adversaries, not to say 
 more so, they themselves might begin to question the 
 soundness of their faith. But possessing this literature, 
 and indeed having themselves done much toward its 
 formation; having such commentaries, translations and 
 expositions as are presented in the w T orks of Burnouf, 
 Koeppen, Weber, Bigandet, St. Hilaire, Spence Hardy, 
 Dr. Field, Tiele, Max Milller and S. Johnson, not over- 
 looking the smaller and more modest contributions of 
 Rhys Davids and Edward Clodd, they perceive that the 
 claims of Jesus cannot be disposed of in this summary 
 manner. "Than Buddha," writes St. Hilaire, "there is, 
 with the sole exception of the Christ, no purer nor more 
 touching figure among the founders of religions. His life 
 is without blemish; he is the finished model of the hero- 
 ism, the self-renunciation, the love, the sweetness he com- 
 
158 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 mands." The justice of this high tribute Christians are 
 not inclined to question; but having before them the 
 books that are authoritative on the subject, they insist 
 upon the magnitude of the " exception," and point out, 
 what their antagonists fail to recognize, that the contrasts 
 between the purest and noblest religious reformer of an- 
 tiquity and Jesus Christ are more numerous and radical 
 than the comparisons. Any conclusion, therefore, that 
 does not take into consideration this fact they hold to be 
 entirely unreliable and unsatisfactory. 
 
 The poem of Arnold has suggested to me a special 
 study in this direction. While he draws no inferences 
 unfavorable to orthodox conceptions of Christ, nor indeed 
 alludes to Him at all, but writes from the standpoint of a 
 Buddhist who had never heard that name, his very reti- 
 cence, combined with the spirit of the poem as a whole, is 
 liable to be misconstrued by the reader, and to leave the 
 impression that its author regards his hero as hardly infe- 
 rior to any other spiritual leader known to history. I do 
 not say that this thought was in his mind when he wrote, 
 but it certainly comes to us as we read. But whether the 
 thought ever occurred to Mr. Arnold or not, it may tend 
 to counteract whatever subtle influence his book may exert 
 in the direction of infidelity, to place Him who is called 
 " The Light of the World " by the side of him who is 
 termed "The Light of Asia;" and unless I widely err, 
 such apposition will assure the most wavering faith that 
 "a greater than Buddha is here." 
 
 The Veda, a name signifying " knowing," or " wisdom," 
 the sacred song of the Aryas who were scattered along 
 the banks of the Indus, is a collection of about a thousand 
 hymns ("Mantras" or "mind-born"), composed by vari- 
 ous Rishis, and dating back to a venerable antiquity. 
 Johnson, in his work on Oriental Religions (Trlibner's 
 edition), to which I am indebted for various facts and 
 
THE RIG -VEDA. 159 
 
 for several quotations which appear in this discourse, re- 
 gards this sacred book, in some of its parts at least, as 
 three thousand years old, and as expressing the Hindu 
 faith of "still earlier times." Max Mtiller, whose Sanskrit 
 Literature and Chips have been of the highest value to 
 me and have been freely used in this study, claims that 
 its earlier portions cannot be assigned " a date more 
 recent than 1300 to 1500 before our era." The Veda has 
 been called "the oldest of the Bibles," and it has been 
 termed " historical " on account of the realism of the pic- 
 ture it gives of the Aryas after their descent into India. 
 From it, therefore, may be gained a very clear idea of the 
 earliest manifestation of the religious sentiment. These 
 primitive worshipers seem to have recognized life as a 
 desirable possession, to have been continually influenced 
 by implicit trust in the Unseen, and by childlike awe of its 
 inscrutable power; to have regarded men as equal, and 
 between whom the discrimination of caste should not be 
 tolerated; to have never countenanced the horrid practice 
 of burning wives with their dead husbands, and never to 
 have built temples, venerated idols, honored priesthoods, 
 or to have admitted human sacrifices in their religious 
 rites, no explicit mention being made of such bloody offer- 
 ings in the Rig -Veda. They adored the Light, beholding 
 in its manifold manifestations, from the spark that expires 
 on the hearth to the sun that flashes in the heavens, "an 
 all-productive cosmic energy." According to Muir's trans- 
 lation, the worshiper sang: "Arise, the breath of our life 
 has come! The darkness has fled. Light advances, path- 
 way of the sun! It is Dawn that brings consciousness to 
 men; she arouses the living, each to his own work; she 
 quickens the dead. Bright leader of pure voices, she 
 opens all doors; makes manifest the treasures; receives 
 the praises of men. Night and day follow each other and 
 efface each other as they traverse the heavens, kindred to 
 
160 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 one another forever. The path of the sisters is unending, 
 commanded by the gods. Of one purpose, they strive not, 
 they rest not; of one will, though unlike. They who first 
 beheld the Dawn have passed away. Now it is we who 
 behold her; and they who shall behold her in after-times 
 are coming also. Mother of the gods, Eye of the earth, 
 Light of the sacrificed, for us also shine!" These are 
 beautiful lines, and equally beautiful and radiant are the 
 deities who are interwoven with the mystic conception 
 which underlies them,— Ushas, the morning; Sarama, the 
 dawn; Savitri, the sun; and Agni, the fire, who is spoken 
 of as the child of the two pieces of wood rubbed together, 
 and as the herdsman's friend and protector. And yet 
 M tiller finds in the Veda a Monotheism which precedes its 
 Polytheism, " a remembrance of One God, breaking through 
 the mists of idolatrous phraseology." In the tenth book 
 we have the declaration: " Wise poets make the Beautiful- 
 winged, though He is one, manifold by words;" and the 
 desire to express this intuitive sense of unity is brought 
 out in such passages as these: "Among you, O gods, 
 there is none that is small, none that is young; you are all 
 great indeed;" " Thou, Agni, art Indra, art Vishnu, art 
 Brahmanaspati;" "That which is One the wise call many 
 ways. They call it Indra, Mitra, Varuna, Agni, the winged 
 heavenly Garutmat." And Johnson, who regards the Rig- 
 Veda as " the potentiality of all religions," as " the pro- 
 phetic star-dust of historic systems," says that in it " there 
 are hints of a Father of all the gods, Dyaushpitar; of a 
 Lord of Creation, Prajapati; of a generator and lord of 
 all Prayer, Brahmanaspati." " Indra contains all the 
 gods, as the felloe of a wheel surrounds the spokes." The 
 Pantheistic idea reveals itself evidently in these ever- 
 changing forms of Deity, though it is modified by the 
 personality implied in the hymns and prayers, and by the 
 views which are incidentally expressed regarding man's 
 
ORIGIN OF BRAHMANISM. 161 
 
 immortality. For, as Johnson writes, quoting from the 
 Veda: "Death was Yama's kindly messenger, 'to bring 
 them (men) to the homes he had gone before to prepare 
 for them, and which could not be taken from them.' It 
 was far in Varuna's world of perfect and undying light, in 
 the 'third heaven,' in the very 'sanctuary of the sky, and 
 of the great waters,' and in the bosom of the Highest 
 Gods. That which men desire is the attainment of good 
 in the world, where they may behold their parents and 
 abide free from infirmities, ' where the One Being dwells 
 beyond the stars.' " And hence the impressive Vedic hymn 
 still in use at Hindu funerals, given by Clodd: 
 
 " Forth from about thee thus I build away the ground ; 
 As I lay down this clod may I receive no harm; 
 This pillar may the Fathers here maintain for thee ; 
 May Yama there provide for thee a dwelling." 
 
 The Rig -Veda was followed by three other books, 
 known as the Sama-Veda, the Yajur-Veda and the 
 Atharva-Veda, and they make up the four parts of the 
 Hindu Scriptures. These additional books show consider- 
 able, though gradual, departure from the primitive and 
 simple beliefs of the first, and around all grew up a body 
 of literature devoted to exposition, ritual and theology, 
 which pretty thoroughly obscured them. This period of 
 development may very properly be designated the era of 
 corruption, and it is identical with the rise and progress 
 of Brahmanism. It is impossible to fix with any degree 
 of accuracy the date of this movement, but for our pur- 
 poses we may accept the opinion of various scholars that 
 it could not have begun much later than the eighth cen- 
 tury B.C. Originally the title "Brahman" simply meant 
 a singer of songs, but in the course of time it came to 
 denote a religious officer, a member of the sacerdotal 
 caste. I suppose the transition occurred something in 
 this way: Memorizing the Vedic hymns, and chanting 
 11 
 
162 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 them in public worship, they doubtless acquired influence, 
 and gradually came to be invested with a distinctively 
 religious character. Finding themselves honored on ac- 
 count of their service, a little ambition mixed with cun- 
 ning would easily accomplish the rest. Flattering by 
 turns the ruler and the ruled, slowly and covertly push- 
 ing their claims to consideration, they could hardly fail 
 to capture the dignity which assumption and arrogance 
 aspired to possess. With their establishment in power, 
 strange doctrines, degrading distinctions, and novel rites 
 made their appearance. The caste system was inaugu- 
 rated. No longer were men equal, but divided by sharp, 
 impassable barriers. They were distinguished into Brah- 
 mans, or the learned; Rajanyas, or the princes and war- 
 riors; Vaisyas, or the commonalty, and the Sudras, or 
 slaves, this latter class being doomed to a life of the 
 deepest misery. Then came fully developed Pantheism 
 and clearly defined transmigration. The doctrine entirely 
 unknown to the oldest Vedic books, that the soul of the 
 imperfect must be born again, in the form of a plant, ani- 
 mal, or man, until the highest stages of self-renunciation 
 and freedom from everything material have been reached, 
 and then sink and disappear in the soul of the universe, 
 was openly advocated and implicitly believed. The Brah- 
 mans also taught that the complete extinction of the sev- 
 eral appetites, and the abstraction of the mind from exter- 
 nal objects, were necessary to prepare the mind for this 
 hoped-for absorption in the Universal One. Moreover, 
 they introduced childish mysticism, narrow formalism, de- 
 basing superstitions, unnatural and arbitrary requirements 
 and cruel and bloody rites and sacrifices, and to complete 
 their malignant work they elaborated a metaphysical the- 
 ology, and founded a hierarchy whose very shadow was an 
 unmitigated curse to untold millions. Thus they corrupt- 
 ed the primitive religion of India; influenced it for evil 
 
BIRTH OF BUDDHA. 163 
 
 just as Romanism in a subsequent age degraded Christi- 
 anity, misinterpreting the Scriptures, perverting its doc- 
 trines, and ingrafting on its simple worship the most 
 abominable observances. ( Vide Tiele's Ancient Religions, 
 Trubner's edition.) 
 
 It was when this apostasy had attained its greatest 
 power, when the old childlike gladness of the people had 
 been turned into sorrow, when existence itself had come 
 to be regarded as a curse, that Siddartha, of the family of 
 Gautama, appeared on earth. 
 
 "All honored, wisest, best, most pitiful, 
 The teacher of Nirvana and the law." 
 
 Various opinions prevail in the East and among West- 
 ern scholars regarding the date of his birth, many favor- 
 ing 623 B.C., while Koeppen, and with him others, place 
 his death from 480 B.C. to 460, and his birth some sixty or 
 eighty years previous. The Thibetans differ among them- 
 selves very widely, referring his death to various periods, 
 ranging from 2422 B.C. to 546. The Chinese and Japan- 
 ese are agreed on the tenth century, while the Singhalese 
 are confident that he appeared in the sixth. Mr. Arnold 
 adopts 620 B.C. as the time of his nativity, which event 
 he localizes on the borders of Nepaul. His father was 
 King Suddhodana, and his mother Queen Maya, and they 
 reigned in Kapilavastu. Their son, Siddartha, while dis- 
 tinguished preeminently as Buddha, was not the only 
 being to whom that sacred name was applied. The title 
 itself, derived from "budh," to know, a term in Hindu 
 philosophy synonymous with "mind," signifies "the en- 
 lightened one," and if tradition may be believed was 
 borne by others before him and will be borne by others in 
 the future. Among the peoples of the Himalayas the 
 theory prevailed that for millions of years each age had 
 received a Buddha to dissipate its darkness. Thus Kas- 
 yapa preceded Gautama, and Maitreya is to follow him. 
 
164 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 " Fahian reports three " of a date earlier than that as- 
 signed to Mr. Arnold's hero, and "describes a tower in 
 Oude where the relics of one of them were preserved," 
 and consequently the exalted personage whose life is re- 
 corded in the poem was but one of a distinguished line 
 of sacred men who have appeared to reveal the way of 
 salvation to the race. 
 
 The legends represent Gautona, after thousands of 
 preparatory births, deciding to leave the deities with 
 whom he was associating, and to be born once more into 
 the world. 
 
 " Yea! " spake He; " now I go to help the World 
 This last of many times; for birth and death 
 End hence for me and those who learn my law. 
 I will go down among the Sakyas." 
 
 He chooses his parents, a certain king and queen of 
 great dignity and piety. When the natal hour arrived 
 strange signs announce the advent of a Buddha. 
 
 " The queen shall bear a boy, a holy child, 
 Of wondrous wisdom, profiting all flesh, 
 Who shall deliver men from ignorance, 
 Or rule the world, if he will deign to rule." 
 
 "A gray-haired saint, Asita," hears the Devas singing 
 songs, and, Simeon-like, speaks of the infant in the follow- 
 ing mystic and prophetic terms: 
 
 " O babe! I worship! Thou art He! 
 I see the rosy light, the foot-sole marks, 
 The soft, curled tendril of the Swastika, 
 The sacred primal signs thirty and two, 
 The eighty lesser tokens. Thou art Buddh, 
 And thou wilt preach the law and save all flesh 
 Who learn the law, though I shall never hear, 
 Dying too soon, who lately longed to die ; 
 Howbeit I have seen thee." 
 
 He addresses the queen, and having told her that "she 
 
BUDDHA'S YOUTH. 165 
 
 has grown too sacred for more woe," after seven days he 
 promises she shall "painless attain the close of pain." 
 
 "Which fell; for on the seventh evening 
 Queen Maya smiling slept and waked no more, 
 Passing content to Trayastrinshas-Heaven, 
 Where countless Devas worship her and wait 
 Attendant on that radiant motherhead." 
 
 The childhood and youth of Siddartha were distin- 
 guished by unusual precociousness. He excels his teach- 
 ers in learning, perplexes them by his wisdom, and yet 
 preserves his modesty of manner. His chief instructor 
 was overwhelmed at his miraculous knowledge. 
 
 " But Viswamitra heard it on his face, 
 Prostrate before the boy; ' For thou,' he cried, 
 ' Art teacher of thy teachers, — thou, not I, 
 Art Guru. Oh, I worship thee, sweet prince ! 
 That comest to my school only to show 
 Thou knowest all without the books, and know'st 
 Fair reverence besides.' " 
 
 He likewise excels in feats of noble horsemanship, 
 and in other manly arts, and, indeed, proves himself to 
 be as gallant a knight as he was a consummate scholar. 
 But his heart, though strong, was not insensible to com- 
 passion, and he begins his works of mercy by rescuing 
 a wounded swan from the arrow of his cousin that had 
 "killed the god-like speed which throbbed in this white 
 wing." Up to this time the poor bird's grief was the 
 only grief that he had seen; but visiting with his father 
 many of the fairest spots in the country, his keen eye de- 
 tected the conflict and the sorrow that was half concealed 
 beneath the attractive show. 
 
 "The Prince Siddartha sighed. ' Is this,' he said, 
 ' That happy earth they brought me forth to see ? 
 How salt with sweat the peasant's bread ! how hard 
 The oxen's service ! in the brake how fierce 
 The war of weak and strong! i' th' air what plots! 
 
166 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 No refuge e'en in water. Go aside 
 
 A space and let me muse on what ye show.' 
 
 So saying, the good Lord Buddha seated him 
 
 Under a jambu tree, with ankles crossed, — 
 
 As holy statues sit, — and first began 
 
 To meditate this deep disease of life, 
 
 What its far source and whence its remedy." 
 
 But the King was not pleased with these musings, and 
 was not at all satisfied at the prospect of his son treading 
 the lowly path of self-denying pains; and, therefore, hav- 
 ing advised with his ministers, he determined to marry 
 him to some worthy maiden as speedily as possible. His 
 plans in this particular were successful. Siddartha at first 
 sight falls in love with the beautiful Yasodhara, and after- 
 ward he confesses that during a previous life on the earth 
 he had met with and loved her, and that this affection 
 would be eternal: 
 
 " Lo ! as hid seed shoots after rainless years, 
 So good and evil, pains and pleasures, hates 
 And loves, and all dead deeds, come forth again 
 Bearing bright leaves or dark, sweet fruit or sour 
 Thus I was he and she Yasodhara ; 
 And while the wheel of birth and death turns round, 
 That which hath been must be between us two." 
 
 After the wedding the king settles his son in a mag- 
 nificent palace, in the description of wdiich the poetic 
 genius of Mr. Arnold asserts itself, and seeks to absorb 
 his mind in pleasure. But after awhile he grows weary 
 of dancing girls, and marbles, and pearls, and desires to 
 see the world. His father gives his permission, but 
 directs that the city and country be radiantly adorned, 
 and that the blind and maimed, the sick and feeble, be 
 kept indoors. But his precautions were all in vain, for 
 while his son was rejoicing over the artificial signs of the 
 world's happiness, 
 
THE world's grief. 167 
 
 " Slow tottering from the hovel where he hid, 
 Crept forth a wretch in rags, haggard and foul, 
 An old, old man, whose shrivelled skin, sun-tanned 
 Clung like a beast's hide to his fleshless bones. 
 Bent was his back with load of many days, 
 His eyepits red with rust of ancient tears, 
 His dim orbs blear with rheum, his toothless jaws 
 Wagging with palsy and the fright to see 
 So many and such joy. One skinny hand 
 Clutched a worn staff to prop his quavering limbs, 
 And one was pressed upon the ridge of ribs 
 Whence came in gasps the heavy, painful breath. 
 'Alms!' moaned he, 'give, good people! for I die 
 To-morrow or the next day.' " 
 
 This miserable creature excited Siddartha's pity, and led 
 him to make inquiries, the results of which were not con- 
 ducive to his peace of mind. He returns to his palace, 
 but he is restless. Dreams haunt him, and the impression 
 deepens that he is destined to aid the suffering race. He 
 thinks continually "how love might save its sweetness 
 from the slayer, Time." He goes forth again and beholds 
 the terrible evils of society, the sufferings of the world, 
 " the vastness of the agony of earth and the vainness of 
 its joys." He is appalled, affrighted. To him the gods 
 seem weak, as they do not save when sad lips cry: 
 
 " Oh ! suffering world, 
 Oh ! known and unknown of my common flesh, 
 Caught in this common net of death and woe, 
 And life which binds to both! I see, I feel 
 The vastness of the agony of earth, 
 The vainness of its joys, the mockery 
 Of all its best, the anguish of its worst ; 
 Since pleasures end in pain, and youth in age, 
 And love in loss, and life in hateful death, 
 And death in unknown lives, which will but yoke 
 Men to their wheel again to whirl the round 
 Of false delights and woes that are not false. 
 * * * The veil is rent 
 
168 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Which blinded me ! I am as all these men 
 "Who cry upon their gods and are not heard 
 Or are not heeded — yet there must be aid ! 
 For them and me and all there must be help ! 
 * * * I would not let one cry 
 
 When I could save! How can it be that Brahm 
 Would make a world and keep it miserable, 
 Since, if all powerful, he leaves it so, 
 He is not good, and if not powerful, 
 He is not God ?" 
 
 Henceforward his palace is a prison to him, its pleas- 
 ures weary him, and at last he determines to abandon all 
 and seek the way by which he can save mankind. 
 
 " Oh, summoning stars. I come ! Oh, mournful earth ! 
 For thee and thine I lay aside my youth, 
 My throne, my joys, ni} r golden days, my nights, 
 My happy palace — and thine arms, sweet Queen! 
 Harder to put aside than all the rest ! 
 Yet thee, too, I shall save, saving this earth ; 
 And that which stirs within thy tender womb, 
 My child, the hidden blossom of our loves, 
 Whom if I wait to bless my mind will fail. 
 Wife! child! father! and people! ye must share 
 A little while the anguish of this hour 
 That light may break and all flesh learn the Law." 
 
 An affecting description is given of his parting from 
 his beloved Yasodhara, of the disgust which he experi- 
 ences at the sight of the sleeping dancing girls, and of 
 his ride into the night. The poet represents him as say- 
 ing to his horse: 
 
 " Be still, 
 
 White Kantaka! be still, and bear me now 
 
 The farthest journey ever rider rode; 
 
 For this night take I horse to find the truth, 
 
 And where my quest will end yet know I not, 
 
 Save that it shall not end until I find." 
 
 The yellow robe and the mendicant's lot are chosen, 
 and "couched on the grass, homeless, alone," "subduing 
 
THE BODHI TREE. 169 
 
 that fair body born for bliss," he meditated long and 
 watched. He became an itinerant, lived on charity, and 
 mortified his flesh "until sin's dross was purged away," 
 and " he was winged for glorious spheres and splendor 
 past all thought." In the course of his wanderings he 
 teaches a poor woman, who mourns for her child, to ac- 
 cept death as the inevitable. 
 
 " ' My sister ! thou hast found,' the master said, 
 ' Searching for what none finds, — that bitter balm 
 I had to give thee. He thou lovedst slept 
 Dead on thy bosom yesterday ; to-day 
 Thou know'st the whole wide world weeps with thy woe : 
 The grief which all hearts share grows less for one. 
 Lo! I would pour my blood if it could stay 
 Thy tears and win the secret of that curse 
 Which makes sweet love our anguish, and which drives 
 O'er flowers and pastures to the sacrifice, — 
 As these dumb beasts are driven, — men their lords. 
 I seek that secret: bury thou thy child! ' " 
 
 He teaches a king the sin and folly of animal sacrifices, 
 and impressively affirms that all life is sacred; and to a 
 poor Sudra lad, the victim of caste, he says: 
 
 " ' There is no caste in blood, 
 Which runneth of one hue, nor caste in tears, 
 Which trickle salt with all; neither comes man 
 To birth with tilka-mark stamped on the brow, 
 Nor sacred thread on neck. Who doth right deeds 
 Is twice-born, and who doeth ill deeds vile.' " 
 
 But the hour comes when, under the Bodh tree, Sid- 
 dartha is assailed by manifold temptations. He struggles 
 there with the varying forms of evil until, through the 
 thick air of the conflict, he at last discerns the dawning 
 light. The mystery of life is explained, the means of 
 deliverance are revealed, and the perfect knowledge by 
 which he hopes to save others as well as himself is finally 
 and fully gained. The poem picturesquely traces his sub- 
 
170 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 sequent career, his visit to his childhood's home, the ven- 
 eration he inspired in his father, the doctrines he taught, 
 the countries he subdued, the peaceful death he died, 
 
 passing 
 
 " Unto Nirvana, where the Silence lives." 
 
 The account thus given by Mr. Arnold is, in all of its 
 essential features, verified by recognized authorities, and 
 may be accepted as substantially correct. From it, as well 
 as from other sources of information, we gather that Sid- 
 dartha, after a youth spent in luxury, became a self-deny- 
 ing, holy man, — one of the few historic characters whose 
 purity was transcendent. He evidently struggled hard to 
 subdue sin in his members, and gloriously triumphed. Let 
 us not detract from this ancient Indian sage in the least, 
 but gratefully acknowledge his resplendent moral beauty. 
 He was also a reformer, — the Luther of his times, — the 
 stern enemy of caste and of animal sacrifice. Around all 
 life he shed a hallowed influence, the priestly orders he 
 subverted, and magnified the importance of the individ- 
 ual. He gave a system of ethics to his country that has 
 only been surpassed by the sublimer code of the Naza- 
 rene. Burnouf reproduces ten commandments of which 
 Siddartha is reputed the author, which forbid killing, 
 stealing, unchastity, falsehood, intemperance, irregularity 
 in eating, attendance on exhibitions of dancing and dra- 
 matic representations, perfumes, sleeping in a large or 
 high bed, and the acceptance of gold or silver. While 
 some of these precepts are exceedingly curious, most of 
 them are wholesome and of universal application. They 
 reveal deep spiritual insight into the necessities of the 
 race, and justify us in assigning to their author a very 
 high rank among the moral teachers of mankind. 
 
 The doctrines of Buddha cannot as easily be determined 
 as his ethics. Mr. Arnold, in various places in his poem, 
 brings to view his own conceptions of what the illustrious 
 
THE DOCTRINE OF BUDDHA. 171 
 
 reformer taught. According to his interpretation the 
 misery of existence was the starting point of Siddartha's 
 teachings. Doomed to be until sin should be quite purged 
 away, and passing from one form of life to another, and 
 through various worlds, the people for ages had thirsted to 
 be delivered from this bondage, and to attain the blessedness 
 of extinction. The doctrine of transmigration Buddha ad- 
 vocated, though, according to Arnold, it is very question- 
 able whether he proclaimed "nothingness as the issue and 
 crown of being." The word "Nirvana" represents this 
 final state, whatever it may be, and the passages in the 
 poem which refer to it breathe a Pantheistic spirit and 
 leave the impression on the reader that absorption in the 
 Universal Soul was the hope set by Buddha before his fol- 
 lowers. The poet puts on the lips of his hero the words: 
 
 "The aching craze to live ends, and life glides — 
 Lifeless — to nameless quiet, nameless joy; 
 Blessed Nirvana, — sinless, stirless rest, — 
 That change which never changes." 
 
 In another place he adds: 
 
 " Seeking nothing, he gains all ; 
 
 Foregoing self, the universe grows ' I ' ': 
 If any teach Nirvana is to cease, 
 Say unto such they lie." 
 
 Here we have a refined Pantheism, and the closing lines 
 of the poem confirm this view: 
 
 " The clew is on the lotus ! — Rise, great sun ! 
 And lift my leaf and mix me with the wave. 
 Om, mani padme, om, the sunrise comes! 
 The dewdrop slips into the shining sea! " 
 
 Mr. T. W. Rhys Davids does not believe that the hope 
 preached by Buddha was peacefulness in the eternal deeps 
 of annihilation. He says: "Nirvana is the extinction of 
 that sinful, grasping condition of mind and heart which 
 would otherwise be the cause of renewed individual exist- 
 
172 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ence. That extinction is to be brought about by, and 
 runs parallel with, the growth of the opposite condition of 
 mind and heart, and is complete when that opposite condi- 
 tion is reached. Nirvana is therefore the same thing as a 
 sinless, calm state of mind, and if translated at all, may 
 best perhaps be rendered as 'holiness,' — holiness, that is, 
 in the Buddhist sense, perfect peace, goodness and wis- 
 dom." Bunsen advocates a similar explanation, and 
 Johnson says: "Etymology at least fails to bear out the 
 confident assurances of Burnouf, Koeppen, Weber and 
 others, that 'its extinction of the lamp of existence' 
 means absolute annihilation. Nirvana is from iiir, separa- 
 tion from, and vd, wind. The simplest and most natural 
 meaning seems to be, not 'blown out,' but 'no more 
 waving,' as from the presence of wind, no more restless- 
 ness and change. It is familiar to Brahmanical literature 
 as synonymous with words signifying release, emancipa- 
 tion, the highest good." Colebrook defines it as "pro- 
 found calm." And this rendering seems to be sustained 
 by The Dhammapada, or "Path of Virtue," which is sup- 
 posed to contain exact accounts of what Buddha really 
 taught. According to this record Nirvana is "the uncre- 
 ated, the ineffable, the immortal"; "the place of repose 
 and bliss, where embodiments cease"; "the other shore, 
 beyond the power of death, where one is thoughtful, 
 guileless, free from doubt and from all desires, and con- 
 tent." " The true sage is he who knows his former 
 abodes, who sees heaven and hell, who lias reached the 
 end of births, and is perfect in wisdom." "Tear away 
 attachments (self-love) from thy being, as an autumn lotus 
 with thy hand, and make thy way open to Nirvana, to 
 rest." ( Vide Johnson.) In view of these interpretations, 
 we may credit the Reformer who is called by Arnold "The 
 Light of Asia" with teaching his disciples to look for 
 something more than nonentity as the end of all their 
 
NIRVANA. 173 
 
 strivings, though it may not be transparently clear whether 
 he grasped the sublime conception of personal immortal- 
 ity, or discerned merely its vague, shadowy semblance. 
 Probably his doctrine was but little different from that of 
 the Bhagavadgita, and there we find unmistakable traces 
 of Pantheism, as in the following passage from Thomson's 
 translation: "As the all-penetrating ether, from the mi- 
 nuteness of its parts, passeth everywhere unaffected, so 
 this spirit in the body. As one sun illumines the whole 
 world, so does the one spirit illumine the whole of matter. 
 O Bharata! They who thus perceive the body and the 
 soul as distinct, and that there is release, go to the 
 Supreme." Most likely Gautama's sentiments were simi- 
 lar to these, and, as Arnold represents him, he may have 
 taught concerning the self-conquering man: 
 
 " Never shall yearnings torture him, nor sins 
 
 Stain hini, nor ache of earthly joys and woes 
 Invade his safe eternal peace; nor deaths 
 And lives recur. He goes 
 
 "Unto Nirvana. He is one with Life, 
 
 Yet lives not. He is blest, ceasing to be. 
 Chi, mani padme, om ! the Dewdrop slips 
 Into the shining sea! " 
 
 The reader of the "Light of Asia" will be struck by 
 the almost total absence of reference to a Supreme Being. 
 This is one of the distinguishing features of Buddhism. 
 Its author added nothing to the world's knowledge of 
 God. On the supposition that this is explained by the 
 adoption of the Vedas by Siddartha, and that he believed 
 in the Deity and divinities they praise, he is relieved from 
 the charge of Atheism, but it still remains strange that he 
 did not supplement their revelations with some additional 
 light. Professor Tyndall is positive that he "divorced 
 ethics not only from Brahma and the Brahminic trinity, 
 but even from the existence of God." 1 have also seen it 
 
174 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 stated that Dr. Judson declared that "there was nothing 
 in his system to redeem it from the charge of absolute 
 Atheism." But to these representations Dr. Johnson 
 answers: "It is certain, whatever may be true of meta- 
 physical statements, that neither Nihilism nor Atheism 
 characterizes the mass of Buddhist literature, the rites of 
 the Buddhist church, or, as a whole, the sects into which 
 it has become divided. It would, indeed, be fatal to our 
 hopes for human nature if we could be forced to believe 
 that four hundred millions of at least partially civilized 
 people have made a religion out of the love of nonentity, 
 or, indeed, out of mere negation in any form. The appar- 
 ent Atheism of the Buddhist is, in substance, opposition 
 to the idea of an external God, limited and individual, 
 acting in imperfect human ways." And in support of this 
 view he informs the reader that "The temples of Nepal 
 afford proof that the belief in a supreme, all-seeing Bud- 
 dha, represented by two Eyes as symbols of intelligence, 
 was current in these regions at least as early as the begin- 
 ning of the Christian era. The Nepalese say that 'Swa- 
 yambhu, the self -existent, called Adibuddha, was when 
 nothing else was. He wished to become many, and pro- 
 duced the Buddhas through union with his desire. Adi- 
 buddha was never seen. He is pure light.' " From these 
 statements I think we may with safety conclude that at 
 least Siddartha recognized a Supreme Impersonal exist- 
 ence, into whom all purified souls should at last be ab- 
 sorbed, and that the great object of earthly life should be 
 such an abnegation of self as to prepare the soul for its 
 return to its everlasting home in God. 
 
 The path to be pursued by which tais end is to be at- 
 tained is in essentiality one of works. Hence our poet 
 sings : 
 
 "Evil swells the debts to pay, 
 Good delivers and acquits; 
 
THE GOSPEL OF BUDDHA. 175 
 
 Shim evil, follow good ; hold sway 
 Over thyself. This is the Way." 
 
 But Siddartha is no Redeemer, no sacrificial priest, no 
 Savior in the highest sense, doing for humanity what it 
 never could accomplish for itself. He is only a great 
 teacher, a wonderful seer who discerns the origin of evil 
 and who points out how the race may effect its own de- 
 liverance. In reality he does nothing to help the indi- 
 vidual. He makes more vivid the mighty barriers between 
 man and unbroken peace, and then leaves to him the 
 inexecutable task of removing them: 
 
 " Nought from the helpless gods by gift and hymn, 
 
 Nor bribe with blood, nor feed with fruits and cakes; 
 Within yourselves deliverance must be sought- 
 Each man his prison makes." 
 
 Such is the Gospel that he teaches. He tells the 
 world that there are paths, steps, commandments, all of 
 which are beautiful in theory and in practice, and he com- 
 mends them to the race. But he might as well urge an 
 individual to lift himself from the ground in his own 
 arms, or to walk while he stands still, or to sleep while he 
 wakes, for not more impossible are these physical perform- 
 ances than are the various duties he enjoins. Who 
 among the living can ever hope to effect escape from the 
 evils of his lot by the method set forth in this exquisite 
 recipe for their extinction ? 
 
 " The third is Sorrow's Ceasing. This is peace 
 To conquer love of self and lust of life, 
 To tear deep-rooted passion from the breast, 
 To still the inward strife ; 
 
 For love to clasp Eternal Beauty close ; 
 
 For glory to be Lord of self, for pleasure 
 To live beyond the gods ; for countless wealth 
 
 To lay up lasting treasure 
 
176 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Of perfect service rendered, duties done 
 
 In charity, soft speech, and stainless days : 
 
 These riches shall not fade away in life 
 Nor any death dispraise. 
 
 Then Sorrow ends, for Life and Death have ceased ; 
 
 How should lamps flicker when their oil is spent? 
 The old sad count is clear, the new is clean; 
 
 Thus hath a man content." 
 
 We can have.no possible objection to these recommen- 
 dations; but if eternal felicity rests on their being met 
 and fulfilled in our own strength, unhappy are we! What 
 humanity needs is positive Divine help to right doing, not 
 a mere eloquent elaboration of what it is to do right. 
 This is the special weakness of the whole system, and ex- 
 plains why with a magnificent code of ethics the millions 
 of its adherents are cursed with ignorance, superstition, 
 and moral defilement. They have fallen back from the 
 herculean and hopeless endeavor to perfect their own 
 righteousness; and in sullen despondency they sink 
 deeper and deeper into the mire. No help for them in 
 Buddha, only pitiable revelation of their bottomless mis- 
 ery. Assistance must come to them from some other 
 quarter, if at all; for as to their Siddartha he is only a 
 great talker, and not a great doer, and what they need 
 preeminently is work done for them, not words spoken to 
 them. Nevertheless, while his system is fairly open to 
 this criticism, and short as it comes of the truth, yet, 
 considering the ag'e in which the prophet lived, it reflects 
 high honor on his name; and if we will but realize how 
 exalted were the ethics that he taught, how singularly 
 unselfish was his spirit, and how fully he kept before the 
 people their need of a savior, — although the conception 
 he formed of a savior's mission was meager and er- 
 roneous in the extreme — we may with confidence ascribe 
 to him the additional honor of being an adumbration of 
 
CHKIST AND SIDDARTHA. 177 
 
 Him who, in the fullness of time, " was born of a woman, 
 born under the law that he might redeem them which were 
 under the law, that they might receive the adoption of 
 sons." 
 
 Behold! a greater than Buddha is here! If we compare 
 Jesus or rather contrast Him with the founder of Buddhism, 
 His infinite superiority will still appear — a superiority as 
 marked as that of solar light over the soft-shining stars, the 
 phosphorescence of the sea, and the flame-fires that blaze 
 from earth's vestal altars — a superiority that reaches up 
 to Divinity, and requires Divinity to explain. Unlike 
 Siddartha, Jesus was born in poverty, enjoyed few, if any, 
 advantages of education, and was from the first an outcast 
 in the world. His youth tasted not the pleasures that 
 affluence and rank procure, nor His manhood the sweet 
 flavor of adulation lavished so freely on aged Siddar- 
 tha. Like the Hindu, He engaged in the sublimest of en- 
 deavors — to save mankind — but how unlike his method. 
 The sage retires to the wilderness to gather moral strength 
 for his enterprise; to save himself before he tries to save 
 others. Jesus from the first is perfect, sinless, and pursues 
 His mission among crowds of men, mingling with them 
 freely, and too pure to fear taint from any. Buddha 
 wears a peculiar garb, ostentatiously is indigent, and cru- 
 elly ascetic. Jesus distinguishes Himself by no profes- 
 sional badge; does not court poverty, but endures it; and 
 is genial, social and companionable. They are both sym- 
 pathetic, self-sacrificing; but the one is appreciated in his 
 lifetime, revered by princes, respected even by the priests 
 against whose ritual he preached, and dies at an advanced 
 age, venerated by Asia; while the other is misjudged, mis- 
 understood by His contemporaries, is rejected by the sacer- 
 dotal orders, betrayed by His disciples, and at last is 
 crucified as a malefactor. What an infinite difference! 
 What a chasm to be bridged! Surely no highly-painted 
 12 
 
178 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 theory of naturalism is equal to such a task! This Jesus, 
 this peasant's child, this untaught, untutored man, this 
 mechanic, who mingled freely with the humblest and the 
 vilest, this citizen of a despised nation, born in an obscure 
 town and reared in a wretched village, insulted, rejected, 
 murdered, has become, in fact, what was foreseen and pre- 
 dicted He would be — the "Light of the World." The 
 light not of one country, but of all; not of one race, but 
 of every race. Even in that India where Buddha taught, 
 converts throng to hear His word; and, speaking for the 
 Brahmo Somaj, its leader, Chunder Sen, declares that the 
 Star of Bethlehem is rising on the night of Asia; that 
 Christ it is who holds India loyal to the British throne; 
 that Christ, not bayonets, reconciles the people to English 
 rule, and that Christ, not earthly kings, shall dominate the 
 thought and life of all the millions who have for ages 
 listened spellbound to Gautama's wisdom. How shall we 
 explain this mystery ? If it is even difficult to account for 
 Buddha's triumph by Buddha's life, though its circum- 
 stances were not unfavorable to success, what shall we say 
 of Christ ? He, against whom surroundings, condition, 
 rank, yea, everything of an external nature, militated, 
 achieves a world-wide victory, and the mystery thickens 
 as the issue becomes more assured. What shall we say ? 
 How reach the truth ? Outward circumstances of His life 
 fail to supply the answer, and we are shut up to the inev- 
 itable, that in Jesus we meet an element higher than the 
 human — the divine; and that, if the career of Buddha is 
 a wonder, that of Jesus is a miracle; yea, the unapproach- 
 able and stupendous miracle of the universe. 
 
 This conclusion increases in force when we contrast the 
 teachings of these spiritual heroes. The puerilities that 
 mingle with the sublime ethics of Siddartha find no place 
 in the code of Jesus. He wastes no breath on the height 
 or length of one's bed, and decries neither innocent amuse- 
 
THE TEACHINGS OF JESUS. 179 
 
 ments, nor the art of music. He seeks not to rob life of 
 its joys, its simple pleasures, or its sunny gladsomeness. 
 Unlike Siddartha, He represents existence as a blessing, a 
 heavenly boon, to be prized and cherished, and to be 
 returned unstained to the keeping of its Author. Unlike 
 Siddartha, He lives with God, communes with Him, walks 
 with Him, and ever seems to be looking beyond the infinite 
 azure into the smiling of His face. Of this Almighty Be- 
 ing He freely talks to His disciples; calls Him father, His 
 father, theirs. The sage of India brings with him no 
 word from the eternities concerning Him " in whom we 
 live, move, and have our being." Jesus reveals His very 
 nature, reveals His innermost heart, and shows that He 
 who is Spirit incomprehensible is comprehensible love. 
 He announces as the most glorious heritage of humanity 
 the privilege of access to His presence, the possibility of 
 commerce with His spirit, and of rest in His favor. The 
 world was no longer lonely after Christ had spoken. God 
 became a living presence everywhere. His smile rested 
 on all His works, and even the shadow of the valley of 
 death became transformed into radiance through the sun- 
 shine of His countenance. Blessed forever be His name 
 who lifted the veil of mystery from the universe, and ena- 
 bled saddened eyes to see a face beyond — the Father's 
 face — beaming with tenderness on His creatures! 
 
 Not as Siddartha did Jesus speak of the soul's eternal 
 destiny. No Pantheistic subtlety, no consciousless im- 
 mortality, no " dewdrop slipping into the shining sea," 
 was the burden of His high discourse. " He spake as 
 never man spake." To all the teeming millions of this 
 earth, to every human unit — however insignificant and 
 debased — he proclaimed an existence endless. The flight 
 of untold ages, all the vast cycles of a future, with which 
 the unmeasured and immeasurable past is but as a watch 
 in the fleeting night, and all the convulsions, upheavals, 
 
180 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 destructions, and re-creations of this complicated universe 
 shall set no limit, find no grave, and shall bring neither 
 decrepitude nor death to any human soul. Immortality, 
 personal immortality, the reality of being, not its dream, 
 is the glad message that fell from His sacred lips on the 
 ear of a breathless world. But sad would have been His 
 words, though radiant with the hope of life, had they 
 been unaccompanied by that grace which "opens the 
 kingdom of heaven to all believers." How should the 
 sin-stained and polluted hope to enter into the invisible, 
 on whose portals, thrones, and crowns is written one 
 appalling word, whiter than light and fiercer than 
 flame — Purity; "Without holiness no man shall see the 
 Lord." Drown, drown, in a wail of lamentation the voice 
 of immortality; let not its whisper excite our fears, let not 
 its breath smite the little joy we have on earth. What 
 has a sinner to do with immortality ? Who craves to live 
 eternally, carrying with him the plague of guilt to tor- 
 ment him evermore ? Better Nirvana, better Nihilism, 
 better anything than such an immortality as this. Cruel 
 would it have been in the Master to promise this, more 
 fitting to be spoken by a devil than a Christ, and deserv- 
 ing more the anathema of a world than its benediction. 
 But His gracious lips were not closed forever when He 
 pronounced the word "immortal." They parted once 
 more, and proclaimed "salvation." Salvation! Not the 
 salvation Siddartha taught — salvation painfully wrought 
 out through many births, in many worlds, by each sin- 
 afflicted soul. No! the salvation Jesus preached, Jesus 
 won, and freely gives to all who will accept the gift. 
 This was the gospel that He spoke; this was the gospel 
 that thrilled the world with joy; and this is still the gos- 
 pel that conquers human hearts, and sweeps onward to 
 crown the race with glory. 
 
 What think you of such a gospel ? Do you say that 
 
IS CHRIST DIVINE? 181 
 
 its magnificence explains the mystery of Jesus? Granted; 
 but what explains the magnificence of the gospel ? Here 
 is sublimity your Siddarthas never dreamed of, here are 
 moral magnitudes your Buddhas never measured. Yet 
 are these Hindu teachers so great that under their names 
 we write " inspired," and exalt them far above all others 
 of their race ? What then shall we, what must we, write 
 under the name of Him " who brought life and immortal- 
 ity to light," and how much higher than the highest shall 
 we exalt Him ? Faith answers, and reverent Reason says 
 "Amen," — " God over all, blessed forevermore." 
 
 To test the soundness of this stupendous inference, let 
 us carry the grave inquiry into the following discourse; 
 and it may come to pass that even captious and self-suffi- 
 cient Doubt will recognize Divinity veiled and hooded in 
 the humanity of Christ. 
 
TJNITARIAKISM. 
 
 "And Pilate saith unto them : Behold the man ! " John xix, 5. 
 
 " Like us a man, He trod on earthly soil, 
 He bore each pang, and strove in weary toil ; 
 He spake with human words, with pity sighed ; 
 Like us He mourned, and feared, and wept, and died." 
 
 " Yet all thy fullness, Father, dwelt in Him, 
 In whom no shadow made the glory dim ; 
 Such strength, O God! from Him to us derive, 
 And make, by life from Him, our death alive." 
 
 John Sterling. 
 
 SOMETIMES words express more than their author in- 
 tends, or are susceptible of a deeper meaning than 
 he imagined when they fell from his lips. Thus when 
 Caiaphas said that "it was expedient that one man should 
 die for the people, and that the whole nation perish not," 
 he had not the remotest idea that his language was pro- 
 phetical, and that he was not only predicting the death 
 of Jesus, but was actually shadowing forth its great de- 
 sign. Yet, if the apostle is to be credited, such was the 
 case. And when Pontius Pilate, the sixth Roman pro- 
 curator of Judea, a cold, cruel, calculating ruler, morally 
 enervated and incapable of vigorous rectitude, after the 
 scourging of the obscure Nazarene in the Pragtorium, had 
 brought Him once again into the presence of His furious 
 accusers, hoping, by the pitiable spectacle of His suffer- 
 ings, to excite compassion and obtain His liberation with- 
 out compromising himself, he could not have anticipated 
 that his exclamation, "Behold the man!" would form the 
 text of many, a sermon, and would be regarded as an un- 
 
 182 
 
THE MARVELOUS MANHOOD. 183 
 
 conscious tribute to an exclusive and exceptional personal 
 grandeur in the prisoner worthy of attentive thought 
 throughout successive generations. Yet this is exactly 
 the impression made on many minds. The words of the 
 governor are so concise and direct that, if the emphasis is 
 laid on the definite article, his speech sounds like the voice 
 of inspiration testifying to the unique, unprecedented, and 
 unapproachable manhood of Jesus. It is as though he 
 said: "Behold the flower of humanity, the bright con- 
 summation and circled completeness of the race, the one 
 being who cannot be compared with any other, who is as 
 high above all others as the heavens are higher than the 
 earth, and who gathers in Himself and expresses in Him- 
 self the diverse excellences of all the generations past and 
 of those yet to come. Behold Him, who should be called 
 preeminently the 31cm, as in Him the ideal perfection, 
 toward which countless weary souls have been struggling, 
 is actualized; and the impossible dreams of spiritual beauty, 
 which have haunted the minds of the noblest and the 
 purest, are fulfilled." The proud Roman, of course, had 
 no such thought as this when he presented the outraged 
 Jesus to His enemies; but it occurs to us as we ponder 
 his language, and it has come to be the faith of reflecting 
 and reverent millions. 
 
 To the Unitarians the world is largely indebted for the 
 elevated and now widely prevalent conception of Christ's 
 manhood. There was a time when His character was 
 painted in somber, threatening colors, that displayed the 
 awfulness of majesty more than the sweetness of mercy. 
 He was to the middle ages a harsh, implacable judge, a 
 far-off, isolated king, whose reluctant benediction was only 
 obtainable through the interposition of hearts more tender 
 than His own. A few gifted souls discovered the injustice 
 of such delineations, but the majority of Christian people 
 adhered to them even after the Reformation. Protestant 
 
184 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 theology in its earlier stages reproduced them, modifying 
 them slightly in some particulars, while it amplified them 
 in others. The human figure it presented was morally 
 sublime, but it was too mechanical in its splendid right- 
 eousness, too automatic in its wonderful beneficence, and 
 too frigid, stiff, and angular in its saving sympathy for it 
 to be a faithful portrait of the Redeemer. But with the 
 growth of Unitarian sentiments the rigid lines of this like- 
 ness have been softened, its stateliness has been relaxed, 
 and into the whole composition has been thrown a tender 
 light, like that which gleams from the eyes of the infant 
 Jesus and irradiates the faces of the cherubim in Raphael's 
 Madonna di San Sisto. Herder and Channing, and possibly 
 Theodore Parker, are entitled to much credit for this trans- 
 formation ; though in my opinion the more orthodox 
 school, represented by such writers as Horace Bushnell 
 and Frederick Robertson, is to be commended for recent 
 endeavors in the same direction; and even the rationalists 
 Strauss and Renan, have not failed to furnish some valu- 
 able material toward the completion of this work. But, 
 while the labors of all are to be acknowledged, to Unita- 
 rians must be assigned the high honor of leadership in 
 the movement to restore the true manhood of Jesus to 
 the thought of the world. Whatever the shortcomings 
 of their theology may be in other respects, at least in this 
 it harmonizes very fully with the teachings of the New 
 Testament; and however it may fail to generate a deep 
 spirit of piety, it admirably succeeds in presenting to 
 society the most exalted model of human duty. So im- 
 pressed am I with what I recognize as their influence on 
 literature, art, and philanthropy, that it is to me the most 
 ungrateful of tasks to question the wholesome effect of 
 their views on devotion and spirituality. Yet it will hardly 
 be claimed by their most ardent admirers — and among 
 them I venture to class myself — that in these latter re- 
 
PERPLEXITIES. 185 
 
 spects their churches approach the standard supplied by 
 the authors of the Gospels and Epistles. And if they do 
 not, the failure must be largely due to some defect in their 
 doctrine, and particularly to some radical inconsistency in 
 their treatment of Christ's essential nature. This, I am 
 persuaded, is more than a mere suspicion. There are rea- 
 sons for believing that the most exalted conception of 
 manhood does not exhaust the apparently infinite mean- 
 ing there is in Christ; that it is at best but a fragment, a 
 Torso requiring another and a sublimer conception for its 
 completion, and which, like the Torso at Rome, while de- 
 lighting and refining, must always fail to produce in mind 
 and heart the same great effect that the unbroken figure 
 would. It is just at this point where Unitarianism, espe- 
 cially of the advanced type, is seriously at fault. It takes 
 for granted that the humanity of Jesus is the all of Jesus; 
 that He is man and only man, and that when this is said 
 everything is said. 
 
 But how can such a question as this be decided ? How 
 can it be shown that He who is the subject of these doubts 
 is anything more than the crown and glory of the race — 
 its supreme development, and its grandest representative ? 
 He appears in history as a man. He exhibits in His life 
 all the essential attributes of a man, and at the last He 
 suffers and dies as a man. Why, then, should it be imag- 
 ined that He is anything higher ? As it was said during 
 his ministry, " Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, 
 and brother of James, and Joses, and Judas, and Simon ? 
 and are not his sisters here with us ? " Yes; and yet they 
 who asked these questions were astounded by His wisdom 
 and perplexed by His mighty works. They were not sure 
 of their ground; neither are we. Permit then an additional 
 inquiry. Why did the astronomer Leverrier affirm the 
 existence of an unseen orb, and predict its appearance in 
 the heavens at a certain time ? And why was Christopher 
 
186 isms Old and new. 
 
 Columbus so fully convinced that beyond the waste and 
 darkness of unknown seas another continent would be 
 found ? The answer is not difficult. The student of 
 the skies inferred from the irregular movements of the 
 planet Uranus the existence of a disturbing body; and the 
 brave navigator was led by what he knew of one hemis- 
 phere to infer the indispensableness of another. They 
 reasoned from the known to the unknown, from the seen 
 to the unseen, from the part to the whole, and the result 
 in both cases justified the soundness of the process. And 
 in a similar way evangelical thinkers, having fathomed the 
 depths and scaled the heights of humanity, and having 
 measured by sixty centuries of history what it is capable 
 of producing, have been forced to conclude that such a 
 manhood as friend and foe attribute to Christ is deeper 
 than its depths, higher than its heights, and entirely 
 beyond its power to generate; and consequently, that it 
 calls for another and a more heavenly orb to explain its 
 eccentric movements, for another and grander continent to 
 balance the lowly one of earth, for another nature than the 
 human to account for it rationally, even such a nature as 
 that toward which the testimony of Scriptures manifestly 
 points. 
 
 In pursuing this line of argument it is important to 
 recall some special features of a character which favor so 
 startling and astounding a doctrine. And among them 
 there is perhaps none more impressive than its blameless- 
 ness. Jesus challenged his enemies to convict him of sin, 
 and with the exception of a few querulous critics, like 
 Schenkel and Strauss, the impossibility of doing so has 
 been acknowledged. This at once differentiates Him from 
 the race; for iniquity is a universal malady, from which 
 not even the noblest philosophers, such as Plato and Soc- 
 rates, and the purest of religious reformers, such as 
 Buddha and Mahomet, have dared to claim exemption. 
 
BLAMELESS^ESS OF CHRIST. 187 
 
 How comes it, then, that Jesus is the only being saved 
 from this contamination ? He appears in the world, and 
 is yet not of the world; He mingles with publicans and 
 harlots, and is yet "separate from sinners." As the gulf 
 stream passes immediately from its home into the waters 
 of the stormful Atlantic, and, while flowing through them, 
 never mingles with them, but preserves its own course, its 
 own density and color, compressed, inclosed, yet never 
 penetrated, so the Son of Man enters the more treacherous 
 and tempestuous ocean-wastes of life, and though touched 
 on every side, never takes on the moral hue of his sur- 
 roundings, nor in the least is swerved from the direct line 
 of duty by their variations. Who can tell by what mys- 
 tery of attraction the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico 
 are so closely bound, or who explain why the emerald 
 walls through which their way is channeled should never 
 be able to invade their sanctity, every effort to do so only 
 pressing them into a ridge, rising high and sloping both to 
 right and left ? and who can account for the fact that this 
 peasant-preacher not only preserves unstained his righteous 
 character in an evil world like this, but even develops a 
 loftier and grander righteousness the more closely he is 
 hemmed in by wickedness and environed by temptation ? 
 It will not do to say that His personal exaltation was due 
 to the healing influence of the age in which He lived, or 
 to the surroundings of His youth, or to the training of His 
 parents; for the times were morally malarious, and the 
 community in which His lot was cast was famous for its 
 degradation, and the home education He received was not 
 at the best superior to that which millions have enjoyed. 
 And yet, though His social environments were unfavorable 
 to virtue, He evinces from the first a moral greatness, une- 
 qualed in the annals of mankind. Rousseau, alluding to 
 Socrates, exclaims: "What a delusion it is to venture to 
 compare the son of Sophroniskos with the Son of Mary! " 
 
188 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 and multiplied endeavors have proved the hopelessness of 
 finding a parallel anywhere. He stands alone among men, 
 the sole perfection. The righteousness of others looks 
 like the travesty of some sublime code, a poor attempt 
 running into caricature, it is so flavored with inconsisten- 
 cies, so flecked with evil; while that of Christ is so com- 
 plete that it seems to be the very code itself translating 
 itself into the vernacular of conduct. His purity as far ex- 
 cels that of the purest as the reflection of the sun's luster in 
 the ocean transcends its dim sparkle in the stagnant pool; 
 it is as superior to everything that claims kindred with it as 
 the sun itself is superior to the stars whose mingled light 
 it quenches in its flood of glory. Well, therefore, may it 
 be confessed that He cannot without violence be classed 
 with beings merely human ; for while He is allied to them, 
 and while He shares their nature, it is as one who is not 
 of it, but above it. 
 
 Attention has frequently been directed to this particu- 
 lar trait of His character, and doubtless much more could 
 be added; but there are others which have not been as 
 fully considered, and which very strongly point toward the 
 superhuman. Stress should be laid on His independence — 
 an independence that marked alike His thought and His 
 action. This, taken by itself, would hardly warrant the 
 supposition of even preternatural manhood, for it is not an 
 uncommon virtue; but, taken in connection with all the cir- 
 cumstances which surrounded Jesus, it forms a link in the 
 chain of reasoning that apparently necessitates divinity. 
 It is, to say the least of it, remarkable that a youthful 
 member of a conquered race, who must have seen that his 
 people were doing their utmost to conserve the good will 
 of their masters, should have pursued his way in perfect 
 indifference to their opinion. If it is suggested that He is 
 but one of many heroes who have championed the cause of 
 their distressed country, it should be remembered that 
 
CHRIST'S INDEPENDENCE. 189 
 
 these chosen leaders have always sympathized with the 
 spirit and institutions of the land for whose sufferings 
 they felt so deeply. This, however, is not true of Christ. 
 He not only treads the earth as though there were no 
 Romans, but He pursues His way as though there were no 
 Jews. He antagonizes with the ideas, customs, rites, of 
 His own people far more than He opposes the invader. 
 In one sense, He seems to live in an atmosphere of obliv- 
 ion, to speak and act from a deep realization of duty, 
 unconscious and heedless of those whom He might offend. 
 Of course, events made Him fully sensible of the enemies 
 He was creating, but it worked no change in His manner 
 or conduct. To the end He stood by His convictions, 
 calmly listened to the revilings of His foes, and with the 
 shadow of the cross on His path, continued to denounce 
 their bigotry, their ceremonialism and self-righteousness. 
 Having shocked his generation by proclaiming the equality 
 of man, the spirituality of worship, the sacredness of chari- 
 ty, and the universal need of a Redeemer, He quietly sur- 
 renders His life, and in His last moments startles all who 
 contemplate His sufferings by breathing the then unheard- 
 of prayer: "Father, forgive them, they know not what 
 they do." Such independence as this cannot be classed 
 with that of the patriot, for the intense love of country 
 which makes a hero mighty against his enemies also blinds 
 him to its faults, and leads him to extenuate, not expose, 
 them. Neither can it be accounted for by the spirit of the 
 age, which was servile and calculating; nor can it be traced 
 to the influence of royalty, as it might be in the case of 
 Buddha, for Jesus was a peasant born, and had only a 
 peasant's inspirations. Under these circumstances it is 
 difficult to divest oneself of the impression that it is the 
 sign of a superior nature, and possibly of a nature out- 
 ranking in dignity every degree of creaturehood. 
 
 The ancient Egyptians rendered divine honors to the 
 
190 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Nile. Unlike other rivers, that sacred stream derives no 
 addition to its fullness from humbler profluent tributaries, 
 but is fed by hidden sources and by rains from heaven. 
 It gives to the land through which it flows, and receives 
 not in return. Unsustained, unsupplied, and unincreased 
 by waters from the heart of Egypt, it proudly pursues its 
 journey to the sea, enriching but not enriched. Its state- 
 ly independence aroused the admiration of the millions 
 who in olden times dwelt along its banks, and to their 
 faith it assumed the sanctity of a god. On the verge of 
 the glacier, planted among sterile rocks, surrounded by 
 inhospitable snows, confronting defiant^ ten long months 
 of rigorous winter, the arolla lives, strives, and conquers. 
 The hurricane cannot subdue it, the searching icy wind 
 cannot penetrate it, the might of the avalanche cannot 
 overwhelm it, and the fierce frost that rends the granite 
 cannot cleave its sinewy trunk. Upon what does it feed ? 
 from what does it derive its strength ? by what is it sup- 
 ported in a region where other plants find only death ? 
 Light! the rays of the sun nourish and comfort it in its 
 deary solitude. Not from the earth but from the heavens 
 it receives its aliment, which it appropriates to itself, in- 
 corporating the subtle power of sunbeams into its own 
 vitality. And why may not this lonely Jesus, this solitary 
 man, who poured the wealth of his love on an unappre- 
 ciating and unresponsive world, who streamed through its 
 barren wastes bearing spiritual healing and plenty to its 
 desolate millions, and who received nothing in return and 
 who sought nothing, have descended from heights grander 
 than those in which the origin of the Nile is hidden, and 
 have sustained a closer relation to the Everlasting Father 
 than that sacred river to the rain-dispensing clouds ? 
 And why may not He, fittingly called by the inspired 
 prophet "a root out of dry ground," whose barren 
 and wintry surroundings threatened to crush and to de- 
 
THE INFALLIBILITY OF JESUS. 191 
 
 stroy, but who amid the human tempest lifted high His 
 head, and dauntlessly spoke His message, have been up- 
 held and rendered free of fear through the indwelling of a 
 Light surpassing the sun in power and radiance, and why 
 may not His affinity for that Light — which here shall not 
 be named — proclaim a nature more deeply allied to the 
 inner glory of the heavens than to the weakness and 
 shame of earth ? 
 
 If we associate with the independence of Jesus His in- 
 fallibility, these conjectures will gather additional force, 
 and may lead us to the truth. As His biography is 
 studied, His profound insight into men and things and 
 His foresight of particular and general movements cannot 
 be overlooked. The reader hardly knows which to admire 
 most, His spirit of penetration or His spirit of prophecy; 
 His vision that discerns the hidden thoughts of His con- 
 temporaries, or that which sees through the vista of ages 
 the end from the beginning. But from whatever side it 
 is contemplated, His infallibility is undeniable. He made 
 no mistakes. It cannot be shown that on any occasion He 
 fell into errors of speech or of conduct. He was always 
 accurate, always correct, always right. No necessity has 
 arisen in the course of eighteen centuries to revise His 
 teachings or to apologize for His predictions. They have 
 both vindicated themselves; the first, by their adaptation 
 to man's spiritual needs; the second, whether relating to 
 the fall of Jerusalem, the progress of Christianity, or to 
 the march of empire by their fulfillment in history. Other 
 men have been inspired, and have uttered truths concern- 
 ing the present and the future, but none who, in every 
 respect, in conduct as well as in preaching, in personal as 
 well as in public affairs, has been absolutely unerring. 
 Your Johns, your Pauls and Peters were not exempt from 
 infirmities, or saved from the commission of serious blun- 
 ders. It would seem as though the Infinite Spirit had 
 
192 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 painted faithfully their career, that all might see that even 
 inspired men are not infallible men, and that the only infal- 
 lible man known to the world is Jesus — and such being 
 the case, that it is very questionable whether it is admis- 
 sible to speak of Him as man at all. 
 
 The wonderful influence of our Savior is calculated to 
 aid us in arriving at a reliable conclusion on this point. 
 Christ in subsequent history is more marvelous than Christ 
 in Galilee. Since the removal of His human presence He 
 has wrought more stupendous miracles than He performed 
 in Syria. There and then he simply opened the eyes of a 
 few blind men, restored to health some who were sick, fed 
 occasionally a hungry crowd, and raised an inconsiderable 
 number from the dead; but since His ascension He has 
 removed from nations the veil of mental darkness, has 
 imparted moral health to entire communities, has satisfied 
 the longings of millions for the imperishable bread, and 
 has rescued tribes, races and peoples from the dreariness 
 of spiritual death. For some eighteen hundred years He 
 has been the real leader of the world's progress. Its ma- 
 jestic movements, surprising revolutions, startling refor- 
 mations, upheavals, convulsions and transformations are 
 traceable to the power of His name. And for what yet 
 grander results may we not hope from this apparently 
 exhaustless source? Plato said that "beauty is the re- 
 flection of truth," and it is equally safe to say that truth 
 is the reflection of God. In Christ it. shone supremely, 
 and before His presence the night of nights could not 
 endure. As the Scriptures represent Him, like the sun He 
 rose upon the world and began His triumphant journey, 
 " rejoicing as a strong man to run a race." But the 
 zenith has not been reached; it is not high noon yet. 
 Already His celestial rays, falling on the horrible brood of 
 superstitions engendered by weary years of mud and slime, 
 have inflicted on them a mortal wound, as in the legend the 
 
THE INFLUENCE OF JESUS. 193 
 
 burning shafts of the god of day destroyed the pernicious 
 offspring of many-folded Python. Already the mists and 
 vapors, born of the turbid seas of human error, and which 
 once obscured the heavens, He has dispersed, and faintly 
 at least the gates of the Holy City can be seen. Already 
 the clouds of suffering are transfused by His love, and the 
 silver lining can be discovered, prophetic of the hour when 
 every shadow shall cease to fall on human lives. Even now 
 His burning splendor melts the sunless heart, gently opens 
 the sleeping eyes of childhood to the high concerns of an 
 eternal scene, and calls the weary pilgrim to the blessed 
 song of hope; but by and by He who is shining more and 
 more shall bring the perfect day, and then the weeping 
 that endures for the night shall cease, and joy, endless, 
 world-wide joy, shall come with the eternal morning. 
 Lecky, in his History of European Morals, calls at- 
 tention to this potent and boundless influence in these 
 vigorous words: "It was reserved for Christianity to 
 present to the world an ideal character, which through all 
 the changes of eighteen centuries has inspired the hearts 
 of men with an impassioned love, has shown itself capable 
 of acting on all ages, nations, temperaments and conditions, 
 has been not only the highest pattern of virtue, but the 
 strongest incentive to its practice, and has exercised so 
 deep an influence that it may be truly said that the simple 
 record of these three short years of active life has done 
 more to regenerate and soften mankind than all the dis- 
 quisitions of philosophers and all the exhortations of 
 moralists. This has been the well-spring of whatever is 
 best and purest in the Christian life." But who is this 
 Being of whom an avowed rationalist is constrained to 
 speak in these unmeasured terms ? Surely not a mere 
 creature like himself; surely not an empty ideal, a beauti- 
 ful fiction. And who or what is He who in so brief an 
 9 
 
194 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 earthly ministry acquired such tremendous, lasting and 
 beneficent power over the destinies of mankind ? 
 
 Before I undertake to formulate the answer you already 
 anticipate, permit me to emphasize the significant fact 
 that the most diverse, not to say adverse, schools of 
 thought have conceded the inscrutableness of Christ's 
 manhood. Rugged Carlyle, who, whatever may have been 
 his faults, could appreciate nobility of soul, and who pro- 
 tested all his life against shams, acknowledged the impen- 
 etrab'leness of Jesus. He studied Him; he tried to fathom 
 the depth of His mystery, and concluded that He would 
 ever remain unfathomed and unfathomable. Hear him in 
 his chapter on Symbols: "Highest of all symbols are 
 those wherein the artist or poet has risen into prophet. 
 ... I mean religious symbols. Various enough have been 
 such religious symbols, what we call religious. ... If 
 thou ask to what height man has carried it in this matter 
 look on our divinest symbol, — on Jesus of Nazareth, and 
 His life and His biography, and what followed therefrom. 
 Higher has the human thought not yet reached; this is 
 Christianity and Christendom; a symbol of quite peren- 
 nial, infinite character, whose significance will ever demand 
 to be anew inquired into, and anew made manifest." 
 Speaking of heroes he says: "Hero worship, heartfelt, 
 prostrate admiration, submissive, burning, boundless, for a 
 noblest godlike form of man: is not that the germ of 
 Christianity itself? The greatest of all heroes is one 
 whom we do not name here. Let sacred silence meditate 
 that sacred truth; you will find it the ultimate perfection 
 of a principle extant throughout man's whole history on 
 earth." Dr. Channing maintained that "such a character 
 utterly surpasses human comprehension." Napoleon is 
 credited by Abbott with this thoughtful expression: "The 
 nature of Christ is, I grant it, from one end to another a 
 web of mysteries; but this mysteriousness does not corre- 
 
AN" INSCRUTABLE MANHOOD. 195 
 
 spond to the difficulties which all existence contains." 
 That is, in it he sees something more perplexing than is 
 offered to the mind by all other orders of being. John 
 Stuart Mill, who explicitly denies Christ's Divinity, yet in 
 his posthumous book on the Utility of Religion and The- 
 ism writes of Him in the following glowing terms: "The 
 most valuable part of the effect on the character which 
 Christianity has produced by holding up in a divine person 
 a standard of excellence and a model for imitation, is avail- 
 able even to the absolute unbeliever, and can never more 
 be lost to humanity. For it is Christ rather than God 
 whom Christianity has held up to believers as the pattern of 
 perfection for humanity. It is the God incarnate, more than 
 the God of the Jews, or of nature, who, being idealized, 
 has taken so great and salutary a hold on the modern mind. 
 And whatever else may be taken away by rational criticism 
 Christ is still left, a unique figure, not more unlike His 
 precursors than all His followers, even those who had the 
 direct benefit of His personal teaching. It is of no use to 
 say that Christ, as exhibited in the gospels, is not his- 
 torical, and that we know not how much of what is admir- 
 able has been superadded by the tradition of His followers. 
 The tradition of followers suffices to insert any number of 
 marvels, and may have inserted all the miracles which He 
 is reputed to have wrought. But who among His disci- 
 ples, or among their proselytes, was capable of inventing 
 the sayings ascribed to Jesus, or of imagining the life and 
 character revealed in the gospels ? Certainly not the 
 fishermen of Galilee; as certainly not St. Paul, whose 
 character and idiosyncrasies were of a totally different 
 sort; still less the early Christian writers, in whom nothing 
 is more evident than that the good which was in them was 
 all derived, as they always professed that it was derived, 
 from the highest source." Evidently Mr. Mill is perplexed. 
 This Jesus is not an invention, He is a grand reality; but 
 
196 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 how He ever came to be what He is Mr. Mill cannot tell. 
 The problem is too intricate for him. He stammers and 
 falls dumb before it. And Theodore Parker, equally be- 
 wildered, when referring to the labors of the primitive 
 disciples, asks: "But eighteen centuries have passed since 
 the sun of humanity rose so high in Jesus; what man, what 
 sect, has mastered His thought, comprehended His method, 
 and so fully applied it to life ? " Unquestionably they are 
 right. He is the puzzle and problem of ages, before whom 
 all tongues are mute. As man never spake like Him, so 
 man never lived like Him. The geodetics of philosophy, 
 and the surveyings and weighings of rationalism, fail to 
 give us His true figure and His moral dimensions. His 
 spiritual stature defies our yard-sticks and other instru- 
 ments of human measurement; and when we have done 
 our best to dwarf Him to the narrow range of our under- 
 standing, which is attempted by subtracting from Him in 
 the interest of some poor earthly hypothesis certain 
 graces and powers usually attributed to Him, — we find 
 ourselves still uttering words similar to those written by 
 Renan, when having undertaken this herculean task he 
 exclaims: "Repose now in thy glory, noble founder! Thy 
 work is finished, thy divinity is established. . . . What- 
 ever may be the surprises of the future, Jesus will never 
 be surpassed." 
 
 But is there no explanation? Are all inquiries to be 
 baffled, all efforts to unravel the riddle to be unavailing? 
 Are we perpetually to feel the wondrous presence of this 
 mighty Being, and never be able to decide whether He is 
 merely human or essentially Divine ? It is incredible that 
 the All-Father should have destined us to this uncertainty 
 and that there should be no clew to the mystery. I for 
 one am compelled to believe otherwise, and cannot resist 
 the logical force of the testimonies borne by reluctant 
 witnesses to this amazing manhood. When Celsus sneers 
 
UNBIASED WITNESSES. 197 
 
 at Christ's predictions regarding the universal spread of 
 His religion, which, however, have been fulfilled; when 
 Chubb acknowledges that we have in Him "an example of 
 a quiet and peaceable spirit, of a becoming modesty and 
 sobriety, just, honest, upright, and sincere," qualities, mark 
 you, that this wicked world of ours does not evince any 
 strong liking for; when Goethe says to Eckermann, "I 
 look upon all the Four Gospels as thoroughly genuine, for 
 there is in them the reflection of a greatness which ema- 
 nated from the person of Jesus and which was of as divine 
 a kind as ever was seen upon earth," and when Strauss 
 declares that " Christ remains the highest model of relig- 
 ion within the reach of our thought," and "that no perfect 
 piety is possible without His presence in the heart," repre- 
 sentations wholly inexplicable on the Unitarian hypothe- 
 sis, I am constrained to inquire, exclaim, and conclude 
 with Rousseau: "Is it possible that the sacred personage, 
 whose history the Bible contains, should be Himself a 
 mere man? What sweetness, what purity in His manner! 
 What an affecting: gracefulness in His instructions! What 
 sublimity in His maxims ! What profound wisdom in 
 His discourses ! If the life and the death of Socrates are 
 those of a sage, the life and death of Jesus are those of a 
 God." And in view of these concessions, uttered by Uni- 
 tarians or by those who sympathize with their doctrine 
 concerning the merely human nature of our Lord, I can- 
 not but subscribe to the essentially orthodox statement of 
 James Martineau, the prince of Unitarians, albeit his beau- 
 tiful words may suggest to my thought a higher meaning 
 than he intended to convey: "Not more clearly does the 
 worship of the saintly soul, breathing through its windows 
 opened to the midnight, betray the secrets of its affections, 
 than the mind of Jesus of Nazareth reveals the perfect 
 thought and inmost love of the all-ruling God. Were He 
 the only born— the solitary self-revelation — of the ere- 
 
198 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ative Spirit, He could not more purely open the mind of 
 heaven; being the very Logos — the apprehensible nature 
 of God — which, long unuttered to the world, and abiding 
 in the beginning with Him, has now come forth and dwelt 
 among us, full of grace and truth." Thus all these varied 
 writers, starting from different points of view and pursu- 
 ing widely divergent routes, arrive at conclusions which 
 are plainly irreconcilable with what they profess to hold. 
 Nor is it possible if they are rejected to make of Christian- 
 ity a consistent system, or consistently to account for 
 Christ Himself; but, as the great Napoleon is reported 
 by Abbott to have said, " If once the divine character of 
 Christ is admitted, Christian dpctrine" — including that of 
 His manhood as well — "exhibits the precision and clear- 
 ness of algebra, so that we are struck with admiration of 
 its scientific connection and unity." 
 
 It is no small source of satisfaction that faith in His 
 Godhood seems to be fully sustained by Holy Writ. Our 
 Lord Himself sanctions it and the apostles confirm it. It 
 is true that the title " Son of Man " is that by which He 
 specifically designates Himself. In the Gospels it occurs 
 sixty times, once in the Acts, and never in the Epistles. 
 But why does He not call Himself " Son of Joseph," or 
 "Son of Mary," or "Son of Israel"? A merely human 
 being desiring to impose on the world might insist on his 
 divinity, but he would hardly feel it needful to remind the 
 people of his humanity. That would be the first thing 
 credited. But Jesus seems to be conscious of a nature 
 broader and grander than this term describes, and is ap- 
 prehensive that His manifest Godhood will obscure His 
 manhood, and consequently He draws attention specially 
 to the latter. But in doing so He rejects the limitations 
 of tribe, family, and nation, and adopts the title " Son of 
 Man," as expressive of His identity with the race and of 
 His representative character and mission. He does not, 
 
CHRIST'S GODHOOD. 199 
 
 however, ignore His divinity. In Matthew xvi, when He 
 inquires of His disciples, " Whom do men say that I, the 
 Son of Man, am ? " he accepts the answer of Peter as cor- 
 rect: "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." 
 He constantly affirms His preexistence (John iii, 13; vi, 
 58; viii and xvi); He claims to have life in Himself, and 
 to be one with the Father (John v, 2G; x, 30, 38; xvii), 
 and, moreover, asserts that He is Himself the very pres- 
 ence of the Highest: "He that hath seen me hath seen 
 the Father." 
 
 These startling assumptions appear to have met with uni- 
 form acceptance in the apostolic period. In the Old Tes- 
 tament also there is a frequent association of the human 
 with the divine. The marvelous vision seen by Ezekiel of 
 wheels within wheels, of the living creatures, and of the 
 sapphire throne above the firmament of crystal, was per- 
 vaded with this union throughout. The prevailing form of 
 the celestial beings was that of man; they had the face of 
 a man in conjunction with the faces of a lion, eagle and ox; 
 and on their four sides were seen the hands of a man, while 
 " upon the throne was the likeness as the appearance of a 
 man above it." Whatever may be the total import of 
 such pictures, they evidently suggested the incarnation 
 and the exaltation of the Incarnate One to supreme do- 
 minion. Such hieroglyphical intimations must have pre- 
 pared the religious world for the reception of Christ's 
 claims, and I am not, therefore, surprised to find the 
 apostles advocating them very earnestly. In the epistles, 
 especially in those addressed to the Philippians, Colos- 
 sians, and Ephesians, the Savior is presented as the One 
 Being in whom all things in grace, in redemption, and in 
 glory are infolded. He is exalted as the source of all 
 worlds visible and invisible, and of all creatures, earthly 
 and heavenly; He is also "head over all things," "be- 
 cause in Him all the fullness of the Godhead dwells." 
 
200 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 "Henceforth he is known no more after the flesh"; and 
 He is approached in prayer and praise as God (Acts vii, 
 59; Rev. xxii, 20), the worship by which, in subsequent 
 times, according to Pliny and Eusebius, the disciples were 
 distinguished. Nor has their faith failed of justification 
 at the hands of philosophers, who are not fairly charge- 
 able either with the credulity of superstition or the weak- 
 ness of enthusiasm. I do not profess to interpret Hegel, 
 but that profound thinker evidently means to teach some- 
 thing akin to the Christian doctrine of the Incarnation 
 when in his Philosophy of History he says: "Christ has 
 appeared — a man who is God — God who is man; and 
 thereby peace and reconciliation have accrued to the 
 world." To this he adds, " The appearance of the Christian 
 God involves further its being unique in its kind; it can 
 occur only once." And Schelling, claiming that the in- 
 carnation beginning with the Savior is to be continued in 
 His followers, yet insists that God truly manifested Him- 
 self first in Christ. For, as another German has testified, 
 " the incarnation was complete in Him, and He has there- 
 fore the significance of a personal moral creator of the 
 world." 
 
 If anything more is needed to confirm this sublime doc- 
 trine to our faith, it is furnished by the light which it 
 sheds on the otherwise enigmatical phases of our religion. 
 For instance it shows why, as Schelling has it, " the chief 
 matter of Christianity is Christ Himself, not what He 
 said, but what He is, what He did." Were He only man, 
 it would ever remain a mystery why the apostles should 
 " desire to know nothing but Him," why they should re- 
 ject every other foundation, why they should magnify 
 Him as the "All and in All" to the race, and why they 
 should exalt Him as the being in whom supreme trust 
 should be reposed. Yet this they do continually and un- 
 hesitatingly, as though nothing were more reasonable and 
 
CHRIST IS CHRISTIANITY. Jul 
 
 nothing more natural. When discoursing on worship 
 they enthrone Christ as its glorious object; when dealing 
 with sin and guilt they turn to Christ as atonement and 
 as interceding priest; when seeking a rule of conduct 
 they find it in Christ's teachings and example; and when 
 feeling after signs of immortality they lay hold on Christ's 
 resurrection both as the pledge of its certainty and the 
 pattern of its beauty. He is presented by them as the 
 "Bread of Life," as the "Water of Life," as the "Day- 
 spring from on High," as the "Morning Star," as the 
 "Sun of Righteousness," as the "Light of the World," 
 as the " Ransom," " Mediator," "Advocate," " Deliverer," 
 as the " Lord of Lords " and " King of Kings," expres- 
 sions and descriptions which we try in vain to reconcile 
 with creaturehood ; but which when divine honors are as- 
 scribed to His name we can understand, and, in doing so, 
 clearly perceive why the disciples, like Zinzendorf, " made 
 this Supreme Power in heaven and on earth the only theme 
 they announced, taught in their writings, and treated at 
 length." 
 
 Moreover, this view of our Lord's nature throws light 
 on the meaning of the Cross. An old chronicler relates 
 that a Jew in the sixth century fled for refuge from night 
 and storm to an abandoned temple of Apollo. But at 
 midnight the building was filled with ghastly, gigantic 
 shapes. They moved to and fro in the somber darkness, 
 taking counsel of each other, and relating their achieve- 
 ments against the Christians. These were the shadows of 
 the former gods, the pagan deities whose altars had been 
 forsaken. The poor Jew trembled as he beheld them, and 
 in his despair, hardly knowing what he did, made the sign 
 of the cross. Before its sacred and mysterious potency 
 in their turn the demons shuddered, whirled about in 
 maddened fear, and hastily vanished in the gloom. This, 
 of course, is but a fable; and yet it has a spiritual count «t- 
 
202 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 part. The real temple seen by the musty scribe is the 
 soul, within whose sacred but polluted courts conscience, 
 awe-stricken at the foul thoughts, appetites and lusts 
 which revive when we think them dead, and rage when 
 we suppose them bound, trembles and cries for swift de- 
 liverance. It is obtained through the cross. "When that 
 is embraced, when it is sacred to the soul, then the sense 
 of sin is purged away, and the spectral shapes of evil are 
 dispersed. This has been the experience of millions. But 
 to what does the tragedy of Calvary owe this wondrous 
 power? Nail to the tree the body of a man — only a man, 
 though the best and purest — and the problem is un- 
 solved. He could only die for himself, and none other; 
 and his death could have no more influence than that of 
 others like himself. But let the human sacrifice be sancti- 
 fied by the divine presence, let it be the earthly expression 
 of God's devotion to the moral order of the universe and 
 to the redemption of the guilty, and it acquires a new 
 meaning, and an explicable moral force. 
 
 Christ's Divinity also accounts for His exaltation to 
 the right hand of God, justifies the worship of angels and 
 the confidence of mankind. It makes clear His right to 
 the throne of the universe, and enables the mind to under- 
 stand why He is exalted in providence, in grace, and in 
 judgment. It is the unifying truth that harmonizes all 
 other teachings of Christianity and renders the entire 
 system symmetrical and complete. And, finally, it is the 
 truth of all others that renders the obligation of the sinner 
 distinct and solemn. In dealing with Christ he is dealing 
 with God. It is not a mere human being that stands at 
 the door of the heart, gently pleading for admission. He 
 that is seeking entrance, who has been seeking through 
 long, weary years, and to whom cold ingratitude has re- 
 peatedly said " to-morrow," is not a mere earth-born crea- 
 ture, but the Lord of all. To reject Him is to reject God, 
 
PHIDIAS THE SCULPTOR. Jo:; 
 
 and to reject God is to accept despair. Then, how clear 
 our duty! Were He but a man we might reasonably 
 pause, question His claims, and hesitate to admit Him to 
 the inner sanctuary of our being; but, as He is " God 
 over all, blessed forevermore," every obstacle should yield, 
 every hindrance be removed, and the King of Glory be 
 welcomed to His own. Let this duty be performed. Cry 
 to thy soul: "Lift up thy heads, O ye gates! and the 
 King of glory shall enter in;" and with that Divine in- 
 coming, righteousness and peace, joy and hope, yea, 
 heaven upon earth, shall be sweetly realized. 
 
 It is with reluctance that I bring this inquiry to a close. 
 The portrait drawn is too faulty and imperfect for it to 
 afford me entire satisfaction. Yet such as it is I can in- 
 voke God's blessing on it; for it was undertaken in His 
 fear, and, however inadequate, is in accordance with His 
 Word. Tradition records many interesting stories regard- 
 ing the magnificent masterpiece of the sculptor Phidias. 
 Out of the solid marble he shaped a wondrous image of 
 the mighty Jupiter. The brow of the god was so noble, 
 so fate-deciding seemed "the ambrosial locks" that clus- 
 tered round it, so majestic his mien, and so commanding 
 his presence, that they who beheld the work of the artist 
 were lightened of care, were relieved of sorrow-, and were 
 so enchanted that they were willing to make long pilgrim- 
 ages for the pleasure of viewing it again. Among other 
 legends is found one of surpassing beauty touching the 
 creator of this famous statue. It is said that when lie 
 had finished his labors and thoughtfully contemplated 
 the result, he raised his hands in prayer to Jupiter and 
 sought for an approving sign if what he had done was 
 acceptable to him. The "Thunderer" replied. As Phid- 
 ias stood with uplifted hands a gleam of lightning flashed 
 suddenly through the roof of the temple, and for a mo- 
 ment played upon the sacred floor. Then he knew his 
 
204 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 toil had not been in vain. Thus do I meditate, though 
 not with the exultant satisfaction of the sculptor, tha un- 
 worthy counterpart of Christ which these rude words of 
 mine have fashioned. I know the likeness is sadly inferior 
 to the sublime original; yet such as it is, I implore some 
 token that it is not displeasing to Him whose name is dear 
 to my poor heart, and will be so forever. And if from 
 His holy throne the fire that descended on the apostles 
 when Pentecost was fully come shall rest on you, my 
 reader, irradiating the temple of the soul, and from its 
 altar flash in flame of righteousness, the response I seek 
 will be vouchsafed and my reward will be complete. 
 
SPIRITUALISM. 
 
 "If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be 
 persuaded, though one rose from the dead." Luke xci, 31. 
 
 " The oracles are dumb ; 
 No voice of hideous hum 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 
 Apollo from his shrine 
 Can no more divine, 
 With hollow shriek, the steep of Delphos leaving. 
 No nightly trance or breathed spell 
 Inspires the pale-eyed priests from the prophetic cell." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 WHETHER history or parable, this Scripture inforces 
 a very solemn and salutary lesson. Dives, the rep- 
 resentative of Godless affluence, when reaping the fiery 
 whirlwind of his folly, calls on Father Abraham to miti- 
 gate his terrible agony, and to send Lazarus, if not to 
 himself, at least to his five surviving brothers, that they 
 may be dissuaded from coming to the place of torment. 
 The sufferer is reminded that they who live on earth have 
 Moses and the prophets for their guidance; or, in other 
 words, enjoy the light of a heavenly revelation, and should 
 give heed to its influence and instruction. But to this sug- 
 gestion the rich man replies: "If one went unto them from 
 the dead they would repent." He seems to feel that a 
 little special supernaturalism judiciously displayed in the 
 interest of his brethren, a few ghosts effectively material- 
 ized and sent from the spirit realm, would arrest attention 
 and would necessarily promote reformation. Spectral ap- 
 pearances, he doubtless thought, would overawe and alarm 
 the indifferent, and a message from their phantom lips 
 
 205 
 
206 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 would decide them to embrace religion. In " the visions 
 of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men," had not 
 a spirit passed before the face of Eliphaz, the Temanite, 
 and did not fear come on him, and his bones shake, as the 
 solemn silence was broken by the strange voice inquiring: 
 " Shall mortal man be more just than God ? Shall a man 
 be more pure than his Maker?" If so, why might not 
 other shadowy messengers be sent to earth with profit, 
 and be equally successful in impressing mortals with the 
 reality of things eternal ? Some such line of argument 
 probably occurred to Dives; but instead of its soundness 
 being recognized in Hades, he is answered: "If they hear 
 not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded 
 though one rose from the dead ; " words that express 
 clearly and explicitly the absolute sufficiency of the In- 
 spired Books for life and godliness. 
 
 It is, however, to be observed that the Savior in this 
 declaration does not deny the possibility of the dead re- 
 turning, under certain circumstances, to influence the 
 living; neither does the Bible commit itself to any such 
 denial. Indeed, its stringent laws against invoking their 
 presence, and its wide-sweeping condemnation of all who 
 attempt to bring them back, or who, impelled by idle 
 curiosity, seek intercourse with them, seem to imply that 
 those who have gone before may revisit and minister to 
 friends on earth under conditions determined solely by the 
 Almighty. We know that Moses and Elias were with 
 Christ on the Mount of Transfiguration, and that, when 
 He arose from the tomb, many of the saints came with 
 Him, and were seen in Jerusalem. Moreover, the apostle 
 Paul, having described the faith of God's heroes, assures 
 the Hebrews that they are surrounded by a great cloud of 
 witnesses, evidently referring to those of whom he has 
 been writing so eloquently, and who, though dead, are 
 thus represented as feeling an interest in the career of all 
 
SPIRIT INFLUENCES. 207 
 
 who are following on to know the Lord. Nor is it alto- 
 gether incredible that such exalted beings, freed from the 
 trammels of earthly life, should sometimes mingle with 
 mortals whom they love, and who are yet exposed to sin 
 and danger. Why may not the mother, through the misty 
 veil that hides the seen from the unseen, find a way to 
 direct the footsteps of her friendless child? Why may 
 not lamented dear ones, whose visible forms have crum- 
 bled into dust, still in spirit linger with us here, and, 
 though unrecognized, assist us in our progress to the 
 skies? Of course, much can be said against this view, 
 but much, also, can be said in its favor, though probably 
 not enough on either side to establish a positive convic- 
 tion. Our Savior, in the parable, gives no information on 
 the subject. He neither affirms nor denies, just as He 
 expresses no opinion at this time on the kindred doctrine 
 of angelic and demoniac influences. On this latter topic, 
 however, on other occasions He speaks clearly; and from 
 the tenor of His ministry, as well as from the testimony of 
 the apostles, we learn that angels and devils stream into 
 our world, and bring to bear on humanity the beneficence 
 of heaven or the maleficence of hell. 
 
 Lavater, as cited by Kurtz, declares " that all known 
 material elements enter into the composition of the body, 
 and all discernible spiritual faculties manifest themselves 
 in the constitution of the soul, so that man is thus neces- 
 sarily related to the visible and the invisible, to all things 
 and all beings, not even excepting God himself." Con- 
 stellations and galaxies transmit their fires to his thought, 
 and magnetic currents from earth and sky flash along the 
 nerve-wires of his wondrous organism. Suns, planets, ami 
 all the elemental material of this restless globe, are held in 
 solution in his blood as it surges on its ministry of life and 
 health. Atmospheres are the exhaustless fountains which 
 slake his thirst, that support him with their might, and 
 
208 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 that carry to him on their tireless energies the beneficence 
 of remotest spheres, and waft from him the asphyxia! ma- 
 laria which perpetually threatens his existence. Man is 
 as it were the meeting-place of waters, the bay toward 
 which all tides, physical and spiritual, incline, the recipient 
 and exponent of the universe, the exotery of its esoterics, 
 the crown of its greatness, and the shekinah of its glory. 
 And if, therefore, we may believe with Bulwer-Lytton that, 
 as "millions and myriads" of lives "dwell in the rivers 
 of man's blood, and inhabit his frame as he inhabits earth," 
 so "the circumfluent, infinite and boundless impalpable 
 which we call space " must be " filled with its correspond- 
 ing and appropriate life," " creatures of surpassing wis- 
 dom, or of horrible malignity, some of whom are hostile as 
 fiends to men, and others as gentle as messengers between 
 earth and heaven," we cannot deny the possibility of what 
 Swedenborg taught, and what unimpassioned and inexcita- 
 ble thousands among the devout have credited, " that man 
 may be instructed by spirits and angels, may be in com- 
 pany with them, and converse with them face to face." 
 The possibility of such mysterious intercourse I would not 
 for a moment presume to question. Man being what he 
 is, and the universe being what it is, I think this commerce 
 highly probable, and it may be necessary to explain many 
 things in our personal experience, and in that of others, 
 such as is recorded in Owen's FootfaMs on the Boundaries 
 of Other Worlds and Howitt's History of the Supernatu- 
 ral. But our Savior, in the parable which gives character 
 to our present study, does not touch on these marvelous 
 matters; nor does it come within the scope of my pro- 
 posed inquiry to discuss them. He passes by them as irrele- 
 vant and extraneous, His immediate object being to em- 
 phasize the practical sufficiency of the Holy Scriptures. 
 He teaches clearly and specifically that, having God's 
 Word, the race has everything that it really needs for 
 
PLUTONIA TEMPLES. 209 
 
 moral and religious guidance, and that all the sleepers in 
 the sepulcher, and all the shades in Hades, could they by 
 any process be recalled to earth, whatever they might do 
 for human comfort and human progress would not bring 
 with them either increase of knowledge or of spiritual 
 power. This is my own conviction, and its reasonableness 
 will, I think, appear in the course of this discussion. 
 
 The human mind has not always been favorably dis- 
 posed toward so conservative a belief. From time imme- 
 morial it has not been entirely willing that God's supreme 
 wisdom should decide how far, if at all, the spectral world 
 should hold communion with this mundane sphere; nei- 
 ther has it been content to leave unexplored the myste- 
 rious continent, which He has veiled from mortal sight, 
 and which he has fortified against irreverent curiosity. 
 The boundaries of the undiscovered country have repeat- 
 edly been trodden by restless inquisitiveness, anxious to 
 catch the sound of supernatural footfalls, and to learn 
 from spirit tongues what shall be in the future here, or 
 what makes up the wonders of the never-changing here- 
 after. To go no farther back than the palmy days of 
 Greece, we meet with instances innumerable of attempted 
 intercourse with the dead. Among the people of that 
 cultivated nation, temples, called Plutonia, were con- 
 secrated to this object. Within their walls it was 
 professedly maintained between the souls of former and 
 existing generations. Rites conducive to such inter- 
 change of thought and influence were established and 
 scrupulously observed; but by what theurgy, sortilege, or 
 incantatory hocus-pocus the deception succeeded as it did 
 we have now no means of determining. Maximus Tyrius 
 throws a little light on the ceremonies connected with 
 Grecian necromancy where he writes: "There was a place 
 near Lake Avernus called the prophetic cavern. Persons 
 were in attendance there who called up ghosts. Anyone 
 14 
 
210 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 desiring it came thither, and, having killed a victim and 
 poured out libations, summoned whatever ghost he 
 wanted. The ghost came very faint and doubtful to the 
 sight, but vocal and prophetic; and, having answered the 
 questions, went off." Considerable sums of money were 
 also spent in obtaining the spectral ear, and the profits of 
 those who engaged in the business — the professional go- 
 betweens — were simply enormous. In Israel this species 
 of superstition was not unpracticed. Saul sought an in- 
 terview with the shade of Samuel; and some writers, 
 among whom may be named Sir Henry More, believe that 
 his desire was really gratified. But be that as it may, the 
 rigid enactments against every kind of divination go to 
 prove how strong a hold it had upon certain classes, and 
 how difficult it was to convince them of its sinfulness and 
 folly. 
 
 One of the poets has the thought: 
 
 " If ancestry can be in aught believed, 
 Descending spirits have conversed with man 
 And told him secrets of the world unknown." 
 
 Unfortunately they have been too implicitly credited, be- 
 yond even the warrant of facts, and hence many of our 
 contemporaries clamor at the gates of the Invisible for 
 fresh communications and new revelations. Unwilling to 
 receive merely what graciously may be conferred, they 
 imagine they have the power to wring from spirit-hearts 
 the secret of their dwelling-place. And this, too, in an 
 age that assumes to be remarkably free from bondage to 
 superstition; and what is even more singular, they who 
 most greedily swallow every marvelous story about ghosts 
 are least disposed to recognize the divine origin of the 
 Bible. In the name of reason they reject a supernatural- 
 ly given book, and at the next moment, with a credulity 
 becoming a Weddah of Ceylon, they surrender their 
 judgment captive to some contemptible school of magic. 
 
MODERN NECROMANCY. 211 
 
 As Dr. Carpenter says, " The greatest skeptics in religion 
 are the most credulous in other matters." They are gen- 
 erally like the lady to whom he refers, ready to receive 
 anything that is not in the Bible. Not a few among our 
 Roman Catholic friends believe that they are authorized 
 to pray to the sainted dead, and that the Virgin Mary is 
 especially accessible to their supplications. I have great 
 respect for many who cherish this conviction; but, after all, . 
 the line that separates it from ancient necromancy is very 
 indistinct. It is the old black art baptised and rechris- 
 tened, in which spiritual solicitations are substituted for 
 spells and sorceries. That departed friends may be made 
 by God the medium of blessings to the living is not the 
 objectionable feature of the doctrine, for the possibility of 
 this is candidly conceded; it is the underlying assumption 
 that mortal entreaties can determine the movements of 
 immortal beings, causing them to reappear among the 
 faithful, that is so repugnant to the higher reason, and 
 irreconcilable with the Inspired Word. It makes the dead 
 servants to the living. It converts the Virgin into a very 
 restless, busy soul, wandering from place to place for the 
 sake of rewarding her devotees with a sight of her pale 
 and hazy person; it changes the beatified into phantom 
 tramps, peripatetic shades, spectral gossips, whose earthly 
 peregrinations are controlled exclusively by the church 
 and her members, and for their benefit. 
 
 Spiritualism is the latest and most pronounced develop- 
 ment of this morbid and mortuary superstition. Its multi- 
 plied adherents regard its rejection by Christians, who 
 believe in the supernatural, as inexplicable and indefensi- 
 ble. They affect not to understand the reasons which 
 influence these disciples, and they generally fail to account 
 fairly for their alleged inconsistency. If I may be per- 
 mitted to speak for these misapprehended, not to say 
 maligned, skeptics, I venture the assertion that they are 
 
212 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 not actuated by doubt as to the reality of the supernatu- 
 ral, and neither are they swayed by devotion to mere 
 materialistic theories. The wonderful results which have 
 been brought about in the name of this Ism they are not 
 disposed to ignore; they are willing to admit that they 
 cannot explain them all by laws or forces fully known 
 at present; but they insist that the explanations of those 
 who constantly resort to the marvelous are equally unsub- 
 stantial and unsatisfactory. They likewise object to this 
 apparitional hypothesis, that it is an endeavor to organize 
 a sect or religion, a science or philosophy, on a principle 
 condemned alike by Scripture and the sober judgment of 
 mankind. The principle, if in reality it deserves the name, 
 is that human action is only the reflex of spiritual action, 
 and that by a species of legerdemain and of cheap wizard- 
 ry the relation which the one sustains to the other can be 
 ascertained, and the dead be invoked and governed by 
 shrewd manipulators in the interests of the living. Chris- 
 tians cannot but look on such a system as essentially 
 deceptive, as a kind of charlatanism, as the residuum of 
 former attempts at worthless magic, and as the black art 
 scantily disguised and slightly modernized. As a philoso- 
 phy they find it proclaiming the crudest metaphysics, con- 
 sisting of cloudy notions and easily corrigible errors; as a 
 science they perceive that it is little better than a farrago 
 of ghoulish stories, accepted on the slimmest evidence, and 
 wrought out fancifully and vaguely; and as a religion it is 
 to them a mixture of puerility and stolidity, a superficial, 
 superfluous and superstitious sjDeculation. To embody 
 their criticisms in the form of propositions, they maintain, 
 what I shall attempt to make good, — 
 
 First, That the alleged marvels of Spiritualism are 
 un verifiable, and, therefore, are unentitled to confidence. 
 
 Second, That the so-called revelations of Spiritualism 
 
ANCIENT WONDERS. 213 
 
 are unimportant, and, therefore, arc undeserving of con- 
 sideration. 
 
 Third, That the practical bearings of Spiritualism are 
 unbeneficial, and, therefore, are unworthy of countenance. 
 
 In discussing the first of these propositions, let it nol 
 be forgotten that the extraordinary occurrences which dis- 
 tinguish this phantasmal Ism are not without parallels in 
 the past. They are not new. Many of them were wit- 
 nessed in other ages, and have been chronicled for our 
 instruction. According to Ammianus Marcellinus, as 
 quoted by Mr. D. D. Home, the ancients employed a small 
 table for purposes of divination; and Planchettes, witli 
 their attendant phenomena, are no novelty among the 
 Chinese. The reported transfiguration of Imblichus was 
 just as wonderful and just as credible as modern mate- 
 rializations. Among the Greeks and Romans the black 
 art was surrounded with what appeared to the credu- 
 lous miraculous attestations ; and even at this remote 
 period we find it difficult to account for them on any other 
 hypothesis. And yet, thoughtful men who lived in those 
 times did not hesitate to ascribe them to fraud and trick- 
 ery, or to natural means, the secret of which was confined 
 to a few initiated individuals. Juvenal satirized all super- 
 human communications, and argued that belief in their 
 reality was really due to ignorance of the nervous princi- 
 ple, which enabled the practiced fortune-teller to gain a 
 knowledge of the thought in the mind of those who con- 
 sulted him. Horace ridiculed those who gave heed to 
 spiritual manifestations, and characterized them as diseased 
 and fanatical. The Cumrean sibyl tells the Trojan ./Enrns 
 as much about his family as any modern medium could; 
 and from the shade of his father, Anchises, he receives 
 responses as remarkable as any that have ever purported 
 to come from the dead in our day; and yet the poet 
 Virgil, who describes it all 3 does not seem to have confi- 
 
214 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 dence in this kind of supernaturalism ; for he calls the 
 maiden possessed of prophetic frenzy " deranged in intel- 
 lect." Pliny, the naturalist, is also instructive on these 
 points, for, while he admits some shade of truth in the 
 mystic art, he attributes its phenomena mainly to physical 
 causes. At last even the common people abandoned 
 pagan temple and necromancer's cavern, satisfied that, 
 while they could not explain the strange things enacted, 
 there was more of imposture connected with them than 
 could be reconciled with their superhuman claims. Nearer 
 to our own times we have the witchcraft craze, which was 
 attended by marvels, traceable, according to the testimony 
 of such men as Lord Bacon, Sir Matthew Hale, Bishop 
 Jewell and Addison to occult agencies. Among the won- 
 ders that marked this excitement we have unaccountable 
 movements of various objects, such as chests, beds, and 
 smaller articles ; rappings, scratchings, and drummings; 
 sounds as of steps on the floor, or of clattering chairs and 
 stools, and the transportation of possessed persons, sup- 
 posed to be on their way to demoniacal festivities. Igno- 
 rant people and people of small mental capacity were 
 suddenly qualified to speak with grace and intelligence; 
 others exhibited mysterious knowledge, similar to that 
 which is often met with in modern clairvoyants; and yet 
 others confessed to having seen specters with their eyes 
 shut as well as open. Fuller information than can be 
 given here on this interesting subject may be obtained 
 from Lecky's History of Rationalism, Mather's Magna- 
 Ha, Chamberline's Stone-throioing Devil, Bancroft's United 
 States, and from a curious book published in 1852, entitled 
 To Daimonion. That this entire movement was marked 
 by astounding events no one familiar with it will deny, 
 but that it can only be explained by recourse to the super- 
 natural very few will admit. Self-deception, nervous dis- 
 order, the operation of unknown physical forces, even a 
 
SPIRITUALISTIC CHICANERY. 215 
 
 measure of fraud, can more readily be believed than that. 
 There is something so inherently incredible in the supposi- 
 tion that all these eccentric and useless occurrences were 
 the work of devils or of ghosts that the mind hesitates to 
 give it entertainment. And if it is obliged to reject such 
 an account as untenable, is it not reasonable to conclude 
 that similar wonders in our own day may be explicable on 
 some other hypothesis than that of spirit agency ? 
 
 That such an origin is at least unverifiable is proven 
 by the impostures which continually are being perpetrated 
 in the name of this Ism. Even the very elect are de- 
 ceived. The trickery employed is so cunningly devised 
 and cleverly executed that the most devout sympathizers 
 hardly know how to separate the wheat from the chaff. 
 The materializations which took place in Philadelphia some 
 years since will readily be recalled. Hands which shone 
 like phosphorus appeared, and did not seem to be attached 
 to any body; and the alleged spirit who came most fre- 
 quently from the cabinet was clothed in shining raiment 
 that reminded Mr. Owen of the Savior's transfiguration. 
 Before all eyes this phantom faded away, or was seen to 
 float in the air. During many sittings Mr. Owen and Dr. 
 Childs applied every test to determine the real character 
 of the phenomenon. Yet this most remarkable Katie 
 King affair turned out to be a fraud. The gentlemen re- 
 ferred to admitted the deception, and when the means 
 were produced by which it was effected they were found 
 to be very simple. In 1844 a similar exposure took place 
 in London. A clairvoyant from Paris, called Alexis, car- 
 ried on his trade for a little time with singular success, 
 until he fell into the hands of Drs. Carpenter and Forbes, 
 who penetrated his wiles and revealed his occult arts. 
 The former gentleman has contributed considerable in- 
 formation regarding the methods by which the public are 
 gulled and cheated, and what he has written in Fmser's 
 
21G ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Magazine (February and March, 1877) and in his Mental 
 Physiology is worthy serious consideration. Mr. D. D, 
 Home, himself a Spiritualist, has also rendered good ser- 
 vice in exposing the clever manoeuvres of Machiavelian 
 prophets, who in a peculiar sense profess to stand " be- 
 tween the living and the dead." In his valuable work en- 
 titled Lights and Shadows of Spiritualism he expresses 
 the liveliest contempt for seances held in the dark, for 
 "materializations," "cabinet" jugglery, and other profane 
 "manifestations." He relates many instances of decep- 
 tion, and among them one that shows the extreme cre- 
 dulity of our modern wonder-monger. It seems he was 
 present when an adept held up a mask at the window of a 
 cabinet. " I called," he says, " the attention of an ardent 
 Spiritualist beside me to the empty and eyeless sockets. 
 His reply came promptly and with a certain degree of 
 triumph: 'The dear spirits have not had time to mate- 
 rialize the eyes.'" There's simplicity for you, ingenuous 
 faith, and guileless trust! Can it be that we are to be 
 censured for not receiving the testimony of individuals 
 who thus invite imposture, and who seem utterly unfitted 
 to discriminate between truth and error? These dreary 
 illustrations of folly I have no desire to multiply, and 
 consequently I will not refer to the familiar instances of 
 mendacious empiricism associated with the Davenports, 
 Sunderlands, and Maxwells. The examples given are all- 
 sufficient to make good the position that we cannot hope 
 to prove the supernatural source of any spiritualistic mar- 
 vels when so many of them are impostures. If there are 
 any true they are so much like the counterfeit that even 
 experts cannot with certainty distinguish the one from 
 the other, and novices may therefore be excused if they 
 reject them all as alike unverifiable. 
 
 According to the London Spiritualist (March 2, 1877), 
 Mr. W. Stainton Moses criticised Spiritualism, in which 
 
COUNTERFEITS EXPOSED. 217 
 
 he is a firm believer, in these terms: ".It does very little 
 in the way of scientific verification. Moreover, exoteric 
 Spiritualism is, to a large extent, devoted to presumed 
 communion with personal friends, or to the gratification 
 of curiosity, or to a mere evolution of marvels. . . . Spirit- 
 ualists start with a fallacy, namely, that all phenomena are 
 caused by the action of departed human spirits. They 
 have not looked into the powers of the human spirit; they 
 do not know the extent to which spirit acts, how far it 
 reaches, what it underlies." This is precisely the weak- 
 ness of the whole system. It takes for granted that hu- 
 man agency is inadequate, and yet it has no just measure- 
 ment of what such agency can accomplish. Most of the 
 startling effects produced by its adherents have been dupli- 
 cated by skillful persons who disavow all connection with 
 the preternatural. A remarkable illustration of this was 
 furnished recently by Rev. Arthur A. Waite, who, having 
 been a medium, claimed that he would duplicate any feat 
 that the friends of this Ism could succeed in accomplish- 
 ing. His challenge was accepted, and the trial came off 
 in Tremont Temple, Boston. President Washburn gave 
 a very interesting account of the contest in the Indept int- 
 ent, and from it we learn that Mr. Waite met the medium 
 and actually repeated and explained every one of his 
 tricks, and that his adversary was compelled to retreat 
 in confusion. 
 
 Now, I am persuaded by what was done by Mr. Waite 
 at Tremont Temple that an inventive and skilled presti- 
 digitateur, such as Robert Houdin, could with a little 
 study re-enact the mysteries that perplexed the involved 
 intellect of Joseph Cook, or the other misty marvels which 
 have excited so much comment of late among the savants 
 of Leipsic. As for the simpler and more commonplace 
 wonders, they have been repeated so frequently that they 
 have ceased to attract attention, and are readily under- 
 
218 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 stood by the merest tyro. For instance, no one now is 
 startled by the writing phenomenon, in which the medium 
 reads what is being written with the point of the pen en- 
 tirely concealed from his sight. This performance once 
 occasioned considerable surprise, but it does so no longer; 
 for it is not difficult to explain. The top of the pen is not 
 hidden, and the educated eye, following its motions, can 
 tell what letters the point is forming. Mind-reading also 
 has lost its marvelous aspect since such demonstrators as 
 Mr. Browne have illustrated how it is done. In the case 
 of this well-known lecturer, he will think of an object in 
 any place you may think of it; he will lead you to the 
 spot where you have concealed any article, and he will 
 follow the course of a watch through half a dozen hands 
 to the right person. If he can do so without ghosts, who 
 shall say that ghosts are ever necessary ? 
 
 Dr. Carpenter tells us that many persons agree in stat- 
 ing that a Mr. Home was seen sailing in the air out of one 
 window and in at another; and that a Mrs. Guppy was 
 conveyed in a trance through the air from Highbury Park 
 to Lambs' Conduit street. Here, assuredly, we have a 
 miracle that natural causes cannot explain ! So it would 
 seem. Yet, admitting that the feat was really accom- 
 plished, we learn from Madam Blavatsky, in Is is Un- 
 veiled (vol. i, p. 495), that levitation can be produced 
 without the interposition of spirit agencies. She says the 
 fakir effects it by the power of his aspiration and will. 
 " So does the priest of Siam, when, in the sacred pagoda, 
 he mounts fifty feet in the air with taper in hand and flits 
 from idol to idol, lighting up the niches, self-supported, 
 and stepping as confidently as though he were upon solid 
 ground. . . .The officers of the Russian squadron in 
 Japanese waters relate the fact that, besides many other 
 marvels, they saw jugglers walk in mid-air from tree-top 
 to tree-top without the slightest support." Of course I 
 
MIND AND MATTER. 219 
 
 do not know how this is done, but it is clear that it does 
 not necessarily involve the supernatural. I might refer 
 to other wonders, but it would be only to match them 
 with others which the ingenuity of man has paralleled. 
 These are certainly sufficient to indicate that human re- 
 sources transcend the limits placed on them by Spiritualists, 
 and that, were they understood, most of these mysteries 
 would be cleared up entirely. We know that mind acts on 
 mind sometimes without the medium of the body; and it is 
 not improbable that mind also can act directly upon matter, 
 as has recently been maintained in England and Ger- 
 many, thus making it subject to the supremacy of unfet- 
 tered volition. As a German scientist has surmised, most 
 likely there are undiscovered properties of matter, and 
 that many of these phenomena may be the result of their 
 activities, or, as Joseph Cook argued, of an unknown 
 force, called the psychic force, which asserts itself under 
 peculiar conditions. Who knows ? We concede our ig- 
 norance; but as long as we see spiritualistic marvels 
 duplicated, and as long as the probability is as strong as 
 it is that there are resources in humanity adequate to their 
 production, we shall feel that their claim to supernatural 
 origin is as yet unverified. 
 
 Nor is this conclusion unreasonable. When Descartes, 
 long before the triumphs of this materialistic age, wrote 
 these memorable sentences: "The experience which I 
 have in physics teaches me that it is possible to arrive at 
 a knowledge of many things which will be very useful to 
 life; and that we may yet discover methods by which 
 man, comprehending the force and the action of fire, 
 water, air, stars, skies, and all the other bodies which en- 
 viron us, as distinctly as we comprehend the different 
 trades of our artisans, shall be able to employ them in the 
 same fashion for all the uses to which they are appropri- 
 ate, and thus shall render himself master and possessor of 
 
220 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 nature," he seems to have anticipated a deeper insight 
 into the heart of things than had been attained in his day. 
 His prophecy has been more than fulfilled; and yet even 
 now those who are most profoundly versed in science will, 
 to adopt the subsequent words of Descartes, "confess 
 that all they know is almost nothing in comparison with 
 what remains to be known." No statement more fully 
 commands, or more readily receives, assent than this. 
 We are all prompt enough to adopt it; and yet when we 
 are brought face to face with some inexplicable sleight-of- 
 hand performance, it is expected that we shall immedi- 
 ately set up the cry of " ghost, ghost ! " Now I see no 
 necessity for any such thing. The telegraph, the phono- 
 graph, the microphone, the telephone, and a score of 
 other inventions, remind us that we have only crossed the 
 threshold of nature, and that there are deep hidden in its 
 courts secrets as extraordinary as any that have been con- 
 quered, and which in time must yield their treasures. 
 Until we have carried our explorations much farther than 
 we have at present, and have fixed more definitely the 
 boundaries of the natural, I for one will not abandon my 
 firm conviction that neither demons nor ghosts, angels nor 
 devils, are necessary to account for the strange signs 
 which are paraded in the name of a magic-loving hy- 
 pothesis. 
 
 Nor is our confidence strengthened in the super-mun- 
 dane character of this Ism when we judge it by its reve- 
 lations. We have said that they are unimportant; they are 
 satisfactory neither to skeptics nor believers. Blavatsky 
 admits that "The great majority of spiritual communica- 
 tions are calculated to disgust investigators of even mod- 
 erate intelligence. Even when genuine they are trivial, 
 commonplace, and often vulgar. During the past twenty 
 years we have received, through various mediums, mes- 
 sages purporting to be from Shakspeare, Byron, Franklin, 
 
THE GHOST OF PERICLES. 221 
 
 Peter the Great, Napoleon and Josephine, and even from 
 Voltaire. The general impression made upon us was that 
 the French conqueror and his consort seemed to have 
 forgotten how to spell words correctly; Shakspeare and 
 Byron had become chronic inebriates, and Voltaire had 
 turned an imbecile." Mr. Home gravely relates various 
 stories concerning the subjects which engage the atten- 
 tion of super-mundane beings, and which are not of a very 
 exalted character. He says that the shade of an old lady 
 in gray silk complained to a medium that a coffin had been 
 placed upon the top of the one which contained her mortal 
 remains. This weighty affair seems to have occasioned 
 her great solicitude. He also pathetically tells how a little 
 phantom girl, Stella, comforted her mother by writing her 
 own name on her boots, "the light summer ones." What 
 consolation there may have been to the afflicted parent in 
 this boot-marking performance I cannot perceive, but to 
 my way of thinking it is absolutely grotesque. It would 
 seem from such cases that death makes sad havoc with 
 common sense, and that it leads the departed to do what 
 they never would have undertaken when in the flesh. Dr. 
 Felton, once president of Harvard, in his Lowell Institute 
 Lectures, having written about Pericles, says he invoked 
 his ghost in a Boston circle, and that the famous Greek 
 favored him by taking possession of the medium. "I put 
 to him a series of questions about Athens in his time; but 
 he had not only lost the knowledge of all that he had ever 
 done during the forty years of his administration, but he 
 had even forgotten his mother tongue. I could only ex- 
 claim with Hamlet: 'Alas! poor ghost!' and turn again 
 to my books." Gerald Massey, in his tractate on this sub- 
 ject, does not give a very encouraging view of these reve- 
 lations. He writes: "A large number of impostors have 
 left our world to go somewhere, and possibly they still find 
 us more easily imposed on than their new acquaintance, 
 
222 ISMS OLD AtfD NEW. 
 
 who are able to see through them, whereas we are so often 
 left in the dark." "The spirits can say what they like, 
 assume to be what they please." If we can rely on the 
 testimony of this author, we can never be sure that the 
 so-called phantom that addresses us is not an impostor, 
 and even when it claims to be mother, daughter, friend, 
 it may be willfully misleading us. Such communications, 
 then, must be absolutely worthless. Gerald Massey also 
 says that "there is a mind-realm in the invisible world, 
 and that the ignorant and trifling may return to delude." 
 On this point Mr. Wallace, the scientist to whom I have 
 referred in a previous discourse, has written some note- 
 worthy words. In The Fortnightly Revieio, during the 
 summer of 1874, he published a very able paper, from 
 which we give a few extracts: "Many scientific men deny 
 the spiritual source of the manifestations on the ground 
 that real, genuine spirits might reasonably be supposed 
 not to indulge in the commonplace trivialities which do un- 
 doubtedly form the staple of ordinary spiritual communi- 
 cations. . . . And if a very large majority of those who 
 daily depart this life are persons addicted to twaddle, 
 persons Avho spend most of their time in low or trivial 
 pursuits, persons whose pleasures are sensual rather than 
 intellectual, whence is to come the transforming power 
 which is suddenly, at the mere throwing off of the physical 
 body, to change these into beings able to appreciate and 
 delight in high intellectual pursuits?" He says such a 
 change would be a miracle; but are not the very commu- 
 nications themselves miracles? If the first is incredible 
 on this ground, the second is fairly objectionable for the 
 same reason. He also suggests that these inferior beings 
 visit earth because the circles are generally "a miscellane- 
 ous assemblage of believers of various grades and tastes, 
 but most in search of an evening's amusement, and of 
 skeptics who look upon all the others as either fools or 
 
SPIRITUALISTIC COMMUNICATIONS. 223 
 
 knaves"; and he argues that such companies are not apt 
 to attract "the more elevated and refined denizens of the 
 higher spheres." If he is correct in his estimate of the 
 phantoms who reveal themselves, as wise men always avoid 
 such people when living, they may be excused if they pre- 
 fer not to associate with them after they are dead. But 
 surely Mr Wallace overlooks the fact that, in a large num- 
 ber of instances, the spirits of Washington, Poe, Newton, 
 Plato, Cicero, grace the seances with their presence, and 
 that any of them may be invoked. Should he say that 
 most likely they are counterfeited, then we are again con- 
 fronted with deception, and under such circumstances may 
 well choose to have nothing to do with these knavish appa- 
 ritions. One other passage from Mr. Wallace: "Nothing- 
 is more common than for religious people at seances to 
 ask questions about God and Christ. In reply they never 
 get more than opinions, or more frequently the statement 
 that they, the spirits, have no more knowledge of these 
 subjects than they had while on earth." On the united 
 testimony, then, of these disinterested witnesses we may 
 form a just estimate of the value to be attached to spiritual 
 communications. They are not reliable; they are trivial; 
 they are twaddle; from this source no addition has been 
 made to the world's stock of knowledge; religiously, sci- 
 entifically, it has contributed no facts, no information, no 
 explanations, — only gossip, garrulity, guesses, — and we 
 cannot but regard such revelations as eminently unsatis- 
 factory; indeed, so unsatisfactory that Pythagorean silence 
 would be preferable, and we need have no hesitation in 
 attributing them to earth, not to heaven. 
 
 And yet many intelligent people insist on the impor- 
 tance of this Ism to society. It is urged that to its influ- 
 ence may be traced the survival of faith in the immortality 
 of the soul. Were it not for the constant intercourse 
 between this world and the beyond, it is argued, present 
 
224 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Materialism would smother and extinguish hope of a future 
 eternal life. I am of the opposite opinion. If that future 
 existence may be judged by the disclosures made of it by 
 its representatives — if we are to judge of it by Bacon, 
 who is credited with recent essays which are unworthy a 
 child, or by Clay and Webster, whose speeches from the 
 shades would not have secured them the approval of their 
 fellow-citizens if they had been delivered here on earth — 
 we may conclude, with Hamilton, " that they are souls in 
 the process of losing their mental powers, souls fading 
 away, souls destined soon to become extinct," and under 
 such circumstances certainly eternity is not attractive 
 enough to elicit desire for its possession, or to convince a 
 skeptic that it is deserving any effort to obtain. It rather 
 makes against the dignity and the reality of immortality, 
 and so rather disposes men to live for the present than for 
 the future. 
 
 Its influence is further objectionable on other grounds. 
 It will hardly be denied that in many extreme cases it has 
 weakened domestic ties, sympathized with the doctrine of 
 elective affinity, spiritual marriages, and other abomina- 
 tions. Like a remorseless cataract, thundering and howl- 
 ing, it has not only beat violently and destructively against 
 many sacred interests of society, but it has enveloped 
 others in mist, and blinded many eyes to the distinction 
 between right and wrong. An intelligent committee of 
 Spiritualists, reporting at Cleveland, 1867, on certain ex- 
 cesses, said: "Many, if not all, of the disorderly manifes- 
 tations your committee deem wholly unspiritual, having 
 their origin in half-controlled nervous diseases, poor diges- 
 tion, torpid liver, and general discord of mind and body." 
 Very likely this is a true account of the matter. Bodily 
 convulsions also distinguished witchcraft. Pliny, Galen, 
 and others of the ancients, regarded the magical art as 
 physically injurious; and we are certainly warranted in 
 
SPIRITUALISM AND CHRISTIANITY. 225 
 
 characterizing a system as pernicious which undermines 
 bodily vigor, and fatally deranges the courses of nature 
 I admit that there are many holding to Spiritualism who 
 are not involved in these evils; but were their number 
 greater, still the terrible effects of the system on the few 
 may well justify our doubt of its wholesomeness. More- 
 over, its drift is undesirable considered from another 
 standpoint. It is radically anti-Christian. By many of 
 its advocates Christ is represented simply as a medium; 
 the inspiration of the Scriptures is denied, and its essen- 
 tial doctrines rejected. Perhaps the famous, or rather the 
 infamous, Rutland Convention may be taken as a fair sam- 
 ple of this antagonism. Mr. Wallace, alluding to this 
 solecism, asks, " How is it that the usual orthodox ideas 
 of heaven are never confirmed through these mediums? 
 There is no more startling a radical opposition to be 
 found among the diverse religious creeds than that which 
 the majority of mediums have been brought up in, and 
 the doctrines as to a future life which have been delivered 
 through them." And we may add the inquiry : How 
 comes it that they so continuously deny other matters of 
 revelation, such as the fall of man, the incarnation of 
 Christ, His divinity, the efficacy of His sacrifice, and 
 human regeneration? Their influence is against Chris- 
 tianity. Why-? If it is suggested that the spirits, having 
 been admitted into eternity, know whereof they testily, I 
 must be allowed to reply that, according to their earthly 
 representatives and friends, they are generally a good-for- 
 nothing set, given to twaddle and deception, whose word, 
 consequently, is not deserving of confidence. We cannot 
 think that very many of our fellow-beings are shallow 
 enough to yield to such questionable testimony; but it 
 should never be overlooked in judging the system that 
 its drift is in opposition to all that we hold most real 
 and true. 
 
 15 
 
226 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 It has already been intimated during this discussion 
 that the Scriptures recognize the existence of a vast spirit- 
 ual empire^ whose borders lie near to our own world, but 
 forbid all efforts on our part to pry into its secrets, or by 
 our devices to bring its inhabitants hither. " We are not 
 to seek those who have familiar spirits, and unto wizards 
 that peep and mutter." (Isaiah vii; Deut, xviii.) For 
 such prohibition there must be sufficient reasons. The 
 first doubtless is, that God knows best how much of super- 
 natural influence we can bear, and would regulate it in 
 harmony with our capacity, our weakness, and necessities. 
 He has no desire to convert the earth into a mad-house, to 
 unseat the reason, or to shatter our poor understanding. 
 We are not only overawed by many of the terrific exhibi- 
 tions of nature's forces, but sometimes feel utterly crushed 
 before them. How, then, could we hope to stand before a 
 lawless, uncontrollable influx of s]3irits, with their bewilder- 
 ing revelations, and their sublime manifestations ? Even 
 the belief that they are near, the imaginary communion 
 with them, and the allusion that they can be summoned, 
 have proven too much for ordinary intellects. The strain 
 of such wild fancies has unsettled the mind; what, then, 
 would the reality be ? Spiritualism not only disregards 
 this divine prohibition, and in doing so attempts to usurp 
 God's prerogative, but in its profane recklessness fills the 
 soul with damaging fancies. On this ground, also, it is 
 pernicious. Another reason, doubtless, that sanctions this 
 restriction on restless curiosity is to be found in the impor- 
 tance which God has attached to the development of man's 
 own resources. Having given sufficient light in the Bible 
 for all necessary purposes, enough to serve as an impulse 
 to thought, man is left to investigate, to train his native 
 powers in the domain of inquiry, and to rise through his 
 own endeavors. If angels are sent to strengthen, or saint- 
 ed friends to comfort, their ministry is so ordered as to 
 
THE TRUE HAPPINESS. 227 
 
 harmonize with this fundamental idea. They help without 
 superseding; and they direct so gently that they never 
 divert the creature from his own responsibility. Spiritual- 
 ism, in reality, ignores this arrangement. It is a short, 
 convenient road to knowledge. It tends to paralyze effort, 
 and hence the large number of dreamy, visionary individ- 
 uals who make up its circles and compose its conventions, 
 who ramble in t'heir talk, and by their general incoherence 
 create the impression that they are nerveless and aimless. 
 This emasculating, debilitating and prostrating influence, 
 this weakness, languor and effeminacy, are among the 
 most striking signs of its inability to bless the race, and of 
 its purely mundane origin and character. And on this 
 account, if on no other, it should be set aside by thought- 
 ful people as unworthy their attention and their coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 But if not to this spectral superstition, to whom or to 
 what shall we go that we may obtain the words of eternal 
 life ? Permit a Russian idyl to fashion a reply. There 
 were three brothers who lived near the Black Sea. Not 
 satisfied with their own country, they proposed to go in 
 search of happiness. They said behind the forest there is 
 a mountain, behind the mountain there is a great blue sea, 
 and beyond the sea there are wealthy cities, and doubtless 
 there the birds sing more sweetly, and there are treasures 
 of joy known not in our land. So they saddled their 
 horses, their good black horses, took their lances, and set 
 off on their journey. The eldest brother and the one next 
 in age wandered over the hills, and maybe are wandering 
 still, but happiness they have never found. The youngest 
 did not go far when his heart failed him and he retraced 
 his steps. As his horse's head was homeward turned 
 all nature seemed to say, " Thou hast done well ; " and 
 when he arrived at the door of his house he beheld a maiden 
 at the threshold spinning, and he asked the maiden with 
 
228 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 the golden hair, " Who art thou ? " and she answered, as 
 smiles stole from her brown eyes, " I am happiness! " Ye 
 restless ones, ye who would penetrate worlds unknown to 
 satisfy your souls, ye who are weary of earth, and the 
 wonders of a gracious providence, hear this: cross the 
 phantom mountains and seek the ghostly cities, but your 
 quest will only multiply sorrow and increase your gloom. 
 Return! There, sitting at thy door, is one fairer than 
 woman, more radiant than angels; her benign aspect is 
 assuring; her hands are filled with works of beneficence; 
 and in her eyes is the deep azure of heaven's love. " Who 
 art thou?" " Christianity," she answers, " the daughter 
 of eternity, the sister of humanity, the mother of hope. I 
 am happiness, peace and joy." Sit thou at her feet, and 
 within the influence of her all-composing calmness thine 
 all-disturbing activity shall be gently soothed into quiet- 
 ness and peace; there shall thy weary soul find rest and 
 bliss. 
 
SKEPTICISM 
 
 " Ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of 
 the truth." 2 Timothy ill, 7. 
 
 " Rent from the startled gaze the veil of Night, 
 O'er old delusions streams the dawning light; 
 Man breaks his bonds — ah, blest could he refrain, 
 Free from the curb, to scorn alike the rein ! 
 'Freedom!' shouts Reason, 'Freedom!' wild Desire — 
 And light to Wisdom is to Passion fire. 
 From Nature's check bursts forth one hurtling swarm — 
 Ah, snaps the anchor, as descends the storm ! 
 The sea runs mountains — vanishes the shore, 
 The mastless wreck drifts endless ocean o'er; 
 Lost — Faith — man's polar star !" 
 
 Lytton's Schiller. 
 
 LAPLACE, the brilliant author of The Mecanique 
 Celeste, whose thought eagle-winged and eagle- 
 eyed surveyed the pathless immensity of the universe, is 
 a sad example of that unhappy inability so tersely de- 
 scribed by the apostle in our text. Born in an age of 
 religious doubt, he lived in a state of mental unquiet and 
 unrest. He seemed incapable of arriving at any settled 
 conclusions regarding God and immortality. The spirit 
 of the infinitesimal calculus, which Napoleon said he car- 
 ried into business, also inspired and influenced him in his 
 dealings with invisible realities. At times he gravitated 
 toward Atheism, criticised what he was pleased to con- 
 sider imperfections in the structure and order of earth and 
 heaven, and ascribed faith and worship to ignorant credu- 
 lity or to cruel imposture. At other times he expressed 
 dissatisfaction with these opinions; and when approaching 
 
230 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 death, with gloomy discontent, confessed the enormous- 
 ness of human ignorance, and in effect retracted what he 
 had previously advocated. In a curious little book enti- 
 tled Things Not Generally Known there is recorded an 
 interview which occurred during his last days, between 
 himself and an English philosopher, Prof. Sedgwick, in 
 which the dying astronomer, having spoken of the reli- 
 gious endowments of England, said: "On this point I 
 deprecate any great organic changes in your system ; for 
 I have lived long enough to know what at one time I did 
 not believe — that no society can be upheld in happiness 
 and honor without the sentiments of religion." And yet 
 there is no evidence that even then he perceived clearly 
 or grasped firmly the verities of theology, or esteemed 
 them otherwise than as useful measures of effective gov- 
 ernment, or, at the most, as vague shadows of obscure 
 ideas, the twilight of an indefinite, awful something in the 
 universe, back of its phenomena, which had eluded the 
 searching tests of his mathematics. Ever learning and 
 ever oscillating, his mind in a constant state of unquiet 
 itching and of troubled flux, fluctuating and floundering, 
 he seems to have passed away without having come to the 
 knowledge of the truth on those subjects, which of all 
 others are most intimately related to the well-being and 
 progress of humanity. And many, like Laplace, remain 
 in suspense all their days, vacillating between theories, 
 unsettled in faith, at times half persuaded, then utterly 
 rejecting; and, at last, dying unresolved, carry their 
 doubts with them into that eternity where the interroga- 
 tory mark is never found darkening the punctuation of 
 spirit -speech. 
 
 Skepticism exists under two forms: the permanent and 
 tli" transient. The former is termed "systematic," " dog- 
 matic," or "speculative;" the latter "experimental," or 
 "practical;" and the first is more subtle and dangerous, 
 
DEFINITIONS AND DISTINCTIONS. 231 
 
 though not more distressing and depressing, than the 
 second. Systematic or philosophic skepticism is the apo- 
 theosis of incertitude, the canonization of doubt, the 
 beatification of ignorance. Its world is a combination of 
 mirage and phantasmagoria, inhabited by a dim-visioned, 
 short-sighted, color-blind race, who are being constantly 
 befooled by their senses, and by the varying phenomena 
 which surround them. Such a conception as this I have 
 no desire to discuss; neither would I again undertake the 
 thankless task of vindicating the trustworthiness of 
 nature and the reliableness of man's faculties from the 
 aspersions of this Ism. This has already been done in the 
 discourse on Agnosticism, and need not be repeated. 
 But it may not be amiss to remember, if the universe 
 cannot but defy our explorations, and if there is no key 
 fitted to the sinuosities of the soul, and if, as is assumed, 
 everything is uncertain but uncertainty, no conceivable 
 argument could hope to prevail against such a theory, and 
 time would only be wasted in attempting to frame one. 
 
 The other form of skepticism is more tangible, more 
 general, and more deserving of thoughtful and immediate 
 attention. Unlike the first, it is not a system, nor a phi- 
 losophy, but a mood, temper, or state of the intellect — a 
 suspense of judgment, a sense of confusion and perplexity, 
 a feeling of hesitancy, and a lack of conviction on the 
 particular subject in debate. These are its elements; and 
 they are supposed usually to exist in connection with a 
 deep and earnest spirit of inquiry; and hence, according 
 to the radical import of the name, a skeptic is one who 
 has not found truth, but who is diligently seeking its dis- 
 covery. It does not, however, always follow that the un- 
 satisfied, questioning mind is at the same time faithful in 
 its search for light, especially for the light needed to dis- 
 sipate the darkness which enshrouds the grave problems 
 of theology. Unhappily, when doubt invades the soul, 
 
232 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 and the doctrines of religion are looked upon as chimer- 
 ical, it too frequently becomes chronic, and the labor of 
 investigation is abandoned. Sir Walter Raleigh, it is re- 
 ported, burnt the second part of his WorkVs History in a 
 moment of excitement caused by his inability to verify a 
 little incident that occurred under his very eyes while a 
 prisoner in the Tower of London. On which occasion he 
 is credited with these reflections: "How many falsehoods 
 must this work contain. If I cannot assure myself of an 
 event which happened in my presence, how can I venture 
 to describe those which occurred thousands of years be- 
 fore I was born, or those which have passed at a distance 
 since my birth ? Truth ! truth ! this is a sacrifice that I 
 owe thee." Whereupon he threw the manuscript into 
 the fire. It is believed by some people that the nebular 
 hypothesis of Herschel was due to the want of power in 
 his forty-feet reflector, rather than to ascertained data. 
 When his magnificent instrument, which had resolved the 
 milky way into stellar millions, brought to view other 
 milky ways in the depths of the universe which it could 
 not thus resolve, the astronomer fell to theorizing, and 
 concluded that these new nebulne were masses of formless 
 matter, the raw material out of which solar systems are 
 fashioned. Instead of recognizing the limitations of the 
 reflector he straightway started a hypothesis, and took for 
 granted what he could not prove. Whether the story 
 about Raleigh is true, or this representation of Herschel's 
 theory is just, they both illustrate the too common course 
 pursued by those who entertain suspicions regarding the 
 teachings of Christianity. Feeling how difficult it is to 
 decide on the character of events taking place around 
 them, and realizing how frequently they fall into mis- 
 takes, they avoid investigations which, they have pre- 
 judged, would yield no satisfactory results. They sneer 
 at their childhood's faith as semi-mythical, surrender it 
 
THE MISSION OF DOUBT. 233 
 
 hastily to the flames, and obstinately walk on in darkness 
 to the grave. Or, failing to take the measure of their 
 own mind, and overlooking the limitations which rest on 
 thought, because they cannot resolve the nebulae of revela- 
 tion into suns and stars, and fancying that they are 
 severely scientific, when, in fact, they are diffusively senti- 
 mental, they impetuously adopt some unproved and un- 
 provable theory of Godless materialism. 
 
 Shakspeare has called "modest doubt the beacon of the 
 wise," and when it preserves this character it is certainly 
 deserving of sympathy. The harshness with which it has 
 at times been treated seems to me unwarranted. He who 
 has fallen beneath its shadow is not to be thoughtlessly 
 derided, for it may cause him as much pain to doubt as it 
 gives Christians to have him doubt. If he is honest he 
 suffers enough without additional pangs being heedlessly 
 inflicted by those who have never tasted his cup of bitter- 
 ness. Only the most stolid and unreflecting will deny that 
 there is much in the world to perplex, that its mysteries 
 multiply as they are touched, like the loaves and fishes in 
 the Savior's hands, or that there is much in Christianity as 
 it exists among us to impair confidence in its divine ori- 
 gin. Very few thoughtful people are to be found whose 
 faith at some period has not been temporarily eclipsed; 
 and their own experience should teach them to bear pa- 
 tiently with the unbelief of others. He who has never 
 questioned the truth of the things that are urged upon 
 his acceptance in the name of religion, who has never felt 
 the very foundations departing beneath his feet, and who 
 has never agonized in the grasp of giant and overwhelm- 
 ing difficulties, may be congratulated on the strength of 
 his faith, but he cannot be complimented on the depth of 
 his intellect. Moreover, it should be remembered that 
 doubt has its office and function, and has a mission to 
 accomplish, as truly as belief. Schiller lays stress upon 
 
234 ISMS OLD ASTD NEW. 
 
 this thought in his Philosophical Letters, and shows in 
 the following passage how that which we deplore becomes 
 a minister of good: "Skepticism and free-thinking are the 
 feverish paroxysms of the human mind, and must needs at 
 length confirm the health of well organized souls by the 
 unnatural convulsion which they occasion. In proportion 
 to the dazzling and seducing nature of error will be the 
 Greatness of the triumphs of truth: the demand for con- 
 viction and firm belief will be strong and pressing in 
 proportion to the torment occasioned by the pangs of 
 doubt. But doubt was necessary to elicit these errors; 
 the knowledge of the disease had to precede its cure. 
 Truth surfers no loss if a vehement youth fails in finding 
 it, in the same way that virtue and religion suffer no detri- 
 ment if a criminal denies them." Hence it is that to the 
 influence of Skepticism we owe our release from bondage to 
 manifold superstitions. Man's ability to question, and his 
 indefeasible right to do so, lies at the root of all progress, 
 whether civil or religious. It has gradually emancipated 
 him from errors and delusions; it has enabled him to sift 
 the true from the false, and it has exalted him above the 
 despotisms of priests and potentates. And unless we can 
 prove that the future has no fresh treasures of knowledge 
 to yield, no clearer and more accurate views of Scripture 
 to discover, we must admit that it has yet a work to ac- 
 complish, and is neither to be indiscriminately derided 
 nor rashly denounced. But when it degenerates from an 
 honest suspension of judgment, and abandons its ques- 
 tioning attitude, and settles into blind, rooted, stubborn 
 and uninquiring incredulity, it fails to be reasonable and 
 forfeits its claim to kindly consideration and generous 
 sympathy. "When it ceases to be "a tortuous deviation of 
 the wandering reason seeking the straight road to eternal 
 truth," and becomes a disguised or undisguised endeavor 
 to escape from religious obligation, it is guilty of inconsist- 
 
THE POWER OF PREJUDICE. 235 
 
 ency, and makes itself a principle of infinite mischief. Into 
 this low state has Skepticism fallen in our times, and from 
 its fatal power every generous, serious soul should desire 
 deliverance. And it may assist all, who are thus sincerely 
 anxious to be freed from its bondage, to look at it thought- 
 fully from a Christian standpoint. 
 
 First, Christian thinkers regard the mental processes of 
 Skepticism as unsatisfactory and inconclusive. They pri- 
 marily object to the assumption of its advocates that the 
 head is fully qualified to judge the credentials of religion, 
 whatever may be the condition of the heart. No allow- 
 ance seems to be made for prejudices and prepossessions, 
 or for a low tone of morals. It is taken for granted that 
 spiritual truth can be settled just as mathematical truth is 
 decided, by a purely intellectual method. Such, however, 
 is not the case. Herbert Spencer has shown very clearly 
 in his Study of Sociology the tremendous influence of 
 personal, educational and professional bias on investiga- 
 tions of this character; and Hazlitt has argued that every 
 man is responsible for his belief, on the ground that 
 wishes, inclinations and predilections govern the under- 
 standing as irresistibly as logic or evidence. Fichte, the 
 philosopher, has well said, " Our system of thought is 
 often but the history of our heart; conviction arises from 
 inclination, not from reason, and the improvement of the 
 heart leads to true wisdom"; and he adds in another 
 place: "If, then, the will be steadfastly and sincerely fixed 
 upon what is good, the understanding will of itself dis- 
 cover what is true"; or, in other words, "men do not will 
 according to their reason, but reason according to their 
 will." Goethe expresses a similar sentiment, and it may 
 be accepted as axiomatic. Instinctively we feel that a 
 man of mere intellect, cold and abstruse, in whom the 
 rational absolutely predominates over and excludes the 
 emotional, and who is an incarnation of mind, and only 
 
236 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 mind, is far from being completely and harmoniously de- 
 veloped. We shrink from these unnatural and portentous 
 individuals, and find ourselves reluctant to commit oar 
 lives to their guidance. Something is lacking in them, 
 and when they report adversely to the Faith we feel that 
 if they had possessed a heart to speak their testimony 
 would have been different. When Skepticism, therefore, 
 approaches, proudly announcing its incertitude in the 
 name of reason, and of reason only, we hesitate to receive 
 its conclusion, as the process by which it has been reached 
 is radically defective. 
 
 We also know that most of its supporters are not care- 
 ful to scrutinize their likes and dislikes, their prejudices 
 and passions, for according to their assumption these have 
 no bearing on the issue, and as long as they thus think 
 must their ratiocination be open to question. There is 
 much in Christianity to excite antagonism. It declares 
 the awful facts of sin, responsibility and penalty, and 
 building its house of mercy on these foundations it invites 
 all to accept its saving hospitality as an unmerited gift 
 and favor. These representations are not agreeable to 
 those who incline toward iniquity, nor hardly more so to 
 those who pride themselves on their morality. Naturally 
 they feel indignant with a system that overwhelms their 
 guilt and overturns their vanity, and are in a favorable 
 mood to be captivated by any bewildering sophistry that 
 chimes harmoniously with their predilections. Likewise 
 professional pursuits may exert a warping influence on the 
 judgment; for when the attention is directed exclusively to 
 physical phenomena, as in the case of naturalists, or to the 
 animal side of humanity, as in the case of physicians, it is 
 not improbable that they will fail to see anything beyond 
 the particular objects in which they are personally inter- 
 ested. As the surgeon's scalpel lays bare no soul, and 
 the astronomer's glass discovers no God, they are in dan- 
 
WILLIAM WIRT'S LETTER. 237 
 
 ger of inferring that there is nothing grander or more 
 wonderful in the universe than the dull material with 
 which they are familiar, and with which they have exclu- 
 sively to do. Until Skepticism makes due and adequate 
 allowance for the mental obscurity and obliquity which 
 these prepossessions may occasion, and until it takes 
 counsel of the deeper longings of the heart, its doubts 
 will fail to carry conviction ; and when it does this, in my 
 opinion, few doubts will remain for it to cherish and ex- 
 press. 
 
 Christians also question the validity of an argument 
 that exaggerates the uncertainties of religion, and that 
 overlooks the vagueness of science. It is well known that 
 this form of unbelief owes much of its influence to the 
 impression, which it has industriously cultivated, that re- 
 ligion is too indefinite, changeful and mysterious for it to 
 inspire confidence. This is its favorite position, and by 
 far its strongest; and yet it is a long way from being im- 
 pregnable. The mystery that rests on spiritual subjects 
 must be admitted; for, as Goethe says, "the farther we 
 advance in research, the nearer we approach the unsearch- 
 able"; but this is no more prejudicial to the authority of 
 Christianity than it is to the trustworthiness of nature. 
 William Wirt, who clearly discerned this fact, in a 
 letter now in the possession of a prominent citizen of 
 Chicago, expresses his opinion regarding the worth of this 
 objection in these terms: "Would to God you could be- 
 lieve with me that the Bible is true, the revealed will of 
 God, and offers to us the only terms of salvation. Human 
 reason may revolt at it, and what is poor human reason, 
 unable to explain how a blade of grass grows ? Sur- 
 rounded every moment with realities which it admits to 
 be inexplicable mysteries, and yet presuming to measure 
 and pronounce upon the counsels of Omniscience, and re- 
 jecting the Christian religion because it is a mystery. 
 
238 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Can anything be more mysterious than the union of soul 
 and body, unless it be the still greater mystery, which 
 some profess to believe, that matter can be so organized 
 as to produce the amazing intellectual results which we 
 witness in man? In believing our own existence we be- 
 lieve a mystery as great as any that the Christian religion 
 presents, for there are no degrees in mystery. Pass the 
 sphere of reason, and all is mystery of equal degree; all 
 the works of the Almighty are mysterious to our poor 
 limited faculties. What a series of magnificent mysteries 
 does astronomy present! Philosophers resolve the motion 
 of the planets into gravitation, and what is gravitation ? 
 Let reason answer the question. It cannot do it. She 
 finds herself involved in a world of mysteries, and yet she 
 rejects the Christian religion because it is a mystery. Is 
 not God himself a mystery ? or if the solar system is be- 
 lieved to be uncreated and eternal, is not that a mystery ? 
 Would I have a man renounce his reason ? No. I ask 
 only that he will confine it to its proper sphere, and not 
 pronounce the ocean without a bottom because it cannot 
 touch it with an inch of line." Likewise, may we not 
 with equal propriety inquire, who is able to solve the 
 problems of medicine, or accurately define the relations 
 and properties with which geometry has to do? The 
 physician talks learnedly about a principle of life which 
 eludes his touch and defies his analysis, and the mathema- 
 tician uses terms in his discourse with a freedom that sug- 
 gests a refreshing unconsciousness of their inexplicable- 
 ness. What does he mean by "space," "properties," and 
 "relations" with which his geometry deals? It would 
 puzzle him to answer, especially so unobjectionably as to 
 command the assent of every other thinker. And what 
 about the solution of Euclid's Postulate, the squaring of 
 the circle, and the geometrical axioms which we accept 
 but cannot demonstrate? Then as to fickleness, what 
 
VARIATIONS OF SCIENCE. 239 
 
 has been more mutable than the interpretations of 
 nature, which have been put forth by its zealous ex- 
 plorers and expounders? For instance, concerning the 
 age of the earth, how various and contradictory are 
 the opinions of eminent men who enjoy the same oppor- 
 tunities for investigation. Sir Charles Lyell held that 
 two hundred and forty millions of years have elapsed 
 since the beginning of the Cambrian period, while Mr. 
 Darwin indulges in calculations that would date its ori- 
 gin a billion of years ago. On the contrary, Sir William 
 Thomson is satisfied with less bewildering figures; he 
 limits the existing state of things on the earth to about a 
 hundred millions; but Prof. Tait is even more modest, and 
 argues that physical considerations render it impossible 
 for life to have been here for more than ten or fifteen 
 millions of years. You perceive that millions, more or less, 
 make very little difference with these gentlemen; and 
 the same uncertainty appears in other departments of 
 inquiry. The theory of emission has been supplanted by 
 that of undulations; caloric has been driven from heat by 
 atomic motion; phlogiston and protoplasm have both suc- 
 cumbed to electric and magnetic forces; and it is impossi- 
 ble to foretell how light will reach us in the future, or 
 what elements our scientists will permit to compose the 
 atmosphere we breathe, and the world we inhabit. Now 
 is it not a curious instance of inconsistency when a man 
 challenges the credibility of Christianity on account of the 
 variable and conflicting views to which it has given rise, 
 and yet remains an ardent believer in the trustworthiness 
 of nature, concerning whose operations so many giant 
 battles have been fought ? The changing aspects of re- 
 ligion, and the differences of opinion which exist among 
 its disciples the Christian does not deny, though he claims 
 that there is greater unity and permanence in the inter- 
 pretations of its doctrinal and ethical teachings than is 
 
240 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 generally recognized; and he argues that its certitude is 
 no more impeachable on these grounds than is that of the 
 material universe. He claims that it is God's plan that 
 man should search for truth in the spiritual and physical 
 domains; that the privilege of investigating involves the 
 possibility of error, and that it is no more than reasonable, 
 therefore, to expect diversity of thought about both, on 
 account of which to reject either would be folly. 
 
 The failure of Skepticism to attach a proper value to 
 the testimony of religious experience, and to discover a 
 suitable sphere for the exercise of the faith-faculty, is 
 regarded by Christians as fatal to its pretensions. Its 
 attacks are directed almost entirely against historical 
 evidences and alleged Scripture discrepancies. In these 
 it earnestly seeks for flaws, but pays no attention to the 
 statements made by the vast body of living witnesses, 
 who testify to what " they have seen, and heard, and han- 
 dled." The well-known lines of Horace, condensed by 
 Tennyson, express the thought, 
 
 "Things seen are weightier than things heard"; 
 
 but things felt carry even greater weight; for there is 
 nothing more real and certain than our heart experiences. 
 Well, here are thousands of worthy people, among them 
 the most cultivated, sober and blameless members of soci- 
 ety, who assure us that they have been favored with visit- 
 ations from God's Spirit; that they are now conscious of 
 His indwelling; that their prayers have been answered, 
 and that in suffering and tribulation they have enjoyed a 
 deep sense of the Divine presence and sympathy. Here 
 are also other thousands who are going down to death 
 radiant with triumph, contemplated by weeping friends 
 whose tears gleam strangely with the iris hues of hope, 
 and who to the last ascribe their victory to "the Lamb of 
 God, who taketh away the sin of the world." These are 
 
THE FAITH-FACULTY. 241 
 
 not fanatics; many of them are very commonplace per- 
 sons, not given to sentimental emotions, and in all other 
 relations of life their word would be taken and relied on. 
 Why should they be doubted when they testify to what 
 they experience of God's goodness and grace ? Unless we 
 are warranted in treating with disdain the inner world of 
 thought and feeling, we cannot refuse to listen to its 
 voices. And as these voices assure us of the substantial 
 reality of religion, only the exigencies of a desperate 
 cause will ignore their testimony, or sneer at it as vain 
 and meaningless. Nor have infidels always been able to 
 bear consistent testimony against them; for at times their 
 own conduct has indicated the existence of deeper spirit- 
 ual necessities than their systems countenance. Rochester 
 turned to Christ in his closing hours, and like Julian 
 acknowledged that the Galilean had conquered; David 
 Hume was not a stranger to the house of God, but in 
 Scotland sometimes joined with the people in solemn wor- 
 ship; Voltaire reared a church at Ferney; Collins, it is said, 
 insisted that his servants should be faithful to the claims 
 of the Sanctuary; Robespierre decreed the extraordinary 
 festival of the Supreme Being; Huxley has plead for the 
 retention of the Bible in education; and Tyndall has 
 waxed indignant over the imputations cast on his belief in 
 Deity; and M. Littre, in the shadow of the grave, has 
 confessed, "They are happy who have faith"; and it is 
 natural to conclude that this amiable disregard of the 
 loo-ic of their views is due to a dim consciousness of some- 
 
 o 
 
 thing in their own hearts which cries out against their 
 truth. 
 
 Reason, conscience and volition have received from 
 thinkers considerable attention, but the faith-faculty has 
 never yet been exhaustively discussed. Within our neces- 
 sarily circumscribed limits, and dealing with a different 
 subject, it is impossible to do more than allude to its sig- 
 16 
 
242 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 nificance. We find in man capacity for faith, and, as 
 Goethe has shown, the ages in which it has been in active 
 exercise have been the most brilliant in the annals of time. 
 It bears "a heaven-storming character," and intuitively 
 seeks an Infinite Being, and is as dissatisfied with any 
 other as reason is with sophistry. Religion appeals to it, 
 strengthens, feeds it, and where it is nourished the entire 
 character feels its benignant influence. It can no more be 
 neglected in the harmonious development of a man than 
 conscience or volition. But what kind of training does it 
 receive from Skepticism ? None at all, or, if any, simply 
 mistraining. SkejDticism does not know what to do with 
 it. If the normal attitude of the mind toward spiritual 
 subjects is doubt, how comes it that instinctively it trusts ? 
 Why should faith be so natural if it is unreasonable? 
 What is its place, what its function, what its object ? 
 To these questions this Ism has no answer to return. All 
 it attempts to do is to blight, wither and destroy, root and 
 branch, this faculty, and in its place plant the seeds that 
 may at last grow into the colorless and perfumeless weed 
 of unbelief. According to Goethe, even " natural religion, 
 properly speaking, requires no faith," and if so, where 
 every kind of religion is rejected its operations must be 
 entirely superfluous. Goethe says: "The persuasion that 
 a great producing, regulating and conducting Being con- 
 ceals himself, as it were, behind Nature, to make himself 
 comprehensible to us, — such a conviction forces itself 
 upon everyone. Nay, if we for a moment let drop this 
 thread, which conducts us through life, it may be imme- 
 diately and everywhere resumed. But it is different with 
 a special religion, which announces to us that this Great 
 Being distinctly and preeminently interests himself for 
 one individual, one family, one people, one country. This 
 religion is founded on faith, which must be immovable if 
 it would not be instantly destroyed." Then a special 
 
DOGMATIC DOUBT. 243 
 
 revelation is indispensable to the training of this faculty, 
 just as specific and diversified objects are indispensable to 
 the development of vision; and if it is to be preserved at 
 all its wants must be adequately supplied. The difficulty, 
 not to say impossibility, of Skepticism affording nourish- 
 ment to faith, taken in connection with its disregard of 
 the testimony borne to religion by experience, completes 
 the dissatisfaction which its mental processes produce, and 
 increases the conviction that they should be as little trust- 
 ed as "adders fang'd." 
 
 ^ Secondly, reflecting Christians consider the moral qual- 
 ities of Skepticism as unattractive and reprehensible. 
 They object to its intolerance. It is an erroneous notion, 
 though one widely spread, that belief in holy things leads 
 to narrowness, exclusiveness, and cruel bigotry. Unques- 
 tionably it has served as a pretext for this unlovely spirit; 
 but, as Naville argues, it is in direct contradiction to its 
 essential nature. Christianity fell away from its original 
 character before it began to persecute. In fact, it became 
 skeptical before it became bloody. It doubted the suffi- 
 ciency of God's arm, and entered into alliance with the 
 civil government; it doubted the adequacy of Revelation, 
 and invented infallible popes and councils; it doubted the 
 efficiency of Christ's mediation, and created interminable 
 intercessors out of dead saints and virgins; and it doubted 
 the power of the gospel to convert the soul, and it went 
 forth to evangelize, sword and torch in hand. Thus its 
 doubts bred intolerance, as they do in every mind where 
 they are cherished; hence the dogmatic manner with 
 which religion is treated by those who profess to be ques- 
 tioning its claims. No pope ever delivered himself more 
 positively than do these devotees at the shrine of uncer- 
 tainty. They are ready, to use a Shakespearean phrase, 
 "to spurn the sea if it could roar" at them. All who 
 differ from them are set clown as fanatics or simpletons. 
 
244 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 They are vilified in writings, are caricatured in speeches, 
 and are held up to derision and contempt. The prejudices 
 of society are sedulously excited against them by inflam- 
 matory appeals and misrepresentations, and they are de- 
 scribed as the victims of idle, cunning priests, whose influ- 
 ence is pernicious and ruinous. They are stretched on the 
 rack of ridicule; they are scorched in the fires of denun- 
 ciation; they are decapitated by the guillotine of sarcasm; 
 and were it possible, their churches would be closed, and 
 they themselves be ostracised. And all this vituperative 
 intolerance in the interest of doubt! For the sake of 
 conserving the sanctity of negation, and upholding the 
 authority of nothingness, this petty and contemptible, 
 arrogant and tyrannous course is pursued. If some noble 
 and glorious cause were at stake we might find some palli- 
 ation, under the circumstances, for this bitterness and 
 severity; but when, according to uniform consent, there is 
 nothing but uncertainty to defend, never was passion and 
 anger more unjustifiable and idle. 
 
 Heartlessness as well as intolerance is chargeable upon 
 this Ism. It robs and makes no return; it tears from the 
 souls of the young and old ideals that elevate, aims that 
 inspire, hopes that sustain. Careless of the wounds it 
 inflicts, of the desolation it creates, it seeks to undermine 
 confidence in prayer and providence. It is a dull, dumb 
 iconoclast that destroys without building, that smites 
 faith with pals}^, and then stands gibbering over the help- 
 less wreck it has wrought. If we are in sorrow it has no 
 comfort, if we are in sin it has no deliverance, if we are in 
 perplexity it has no wisdom, if we are in darkness it has 
 no light. The virtue it preaches is without foundation, 
 the heroism it inculcates is without inducement, and the 
 immortality it whispers is without evidence. Its loftiest 
 entiments are borrowed from the religion it affects to 
 despise; the liberty which it claims to champion, it has 
 
FANATICISM OF DOUBT. 245 
 
 sacrificed but little to secure; and the sweet charities it 
 commends, it has done nothing to establish. The garland 
 of eloquence wherewith it clothes itself is the adornment 
 of a corpse; every flower sheathes a worm in its bosom, 
 and every breath of fragrance is mingled with death. Its 
 oratory smells of the tomb, and the symbol of its hope is 
 an eyeless, tongueless skull, grinning in mocking insolence 
 at everything that dignifies and ennobles life. It brings 
 no benefaction, it pronounces no benediction; but casts 
 its baleful shadow on all that is fair and sacred. From its 
 cold lips there comes no grand and full rounded "Yea," 
 to match its piercing, blighting and destroying " Nay." 
 It is simply a huge Negation, seeking with one hand to 
 stop the mouth of religion, and with the other to write on 
 human aspirations and beliefs a bitter and derisive "No." 
 It has no gospel of salvation even for this world, but only 
 an evangel of destruction. If it had anything to say, if 
 it had a better message to deliver than Christianity speaks, 
 its zeal would be explicable. But why it should desire to 
 impoverish the heart and life of thousands, why it should 
 labor to deprive the world of the only sun that irradiates 
 its gloomy fields and its deep, dark valleys, and why it 
 should be gratified at the prospect of blotting out suns 
 and stars from the immortal soul, cannot be imagined, and 
 requires the malicious ingenuity of fiends to parallel. Do 
 you recall these words of Tennyson ? — 
 
 " Oh, thou that after toil and storm 
 
 Mays't seem to have reached a purer air, 
 Whose faith has center everywhere, 
 Nor cares to fix itself to form. 
 
 " Leave thou thy sister when she prays, 
 Her early heaven, her happy views ; 
 Nor thou with shadowed hints confuse 
 A life that leads melodious days. 
 
246 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 " Her faith through form is pure as thine, 
 Her hands are quicker unto good ; 
 Oh, sacred be the flesh and blood 
 
 To which she links a truth divine." 
 
 If such a faith should be tenderly and thoughtfully 
 dealt with by one who rejoices in emancipation from 
 "form," how much more deeply should it be reverenced 
 by him who unhappily has no faith at all. His own 
 dreariness and loneliness should touch his heart with com- 
 passion and restrain him from saying or doing what would 
 carry the sense of solitariness and sadness to others. In- 
 difference to this duty betrays a heartlessness and reck- 
 lessness which augurs ill for the world should Skepticism 
 ever triumph. If so heedless of the pain it inflicts now, 
 who can foresee where it would stop were it exalted and 
 enthroned ? 
 
 The injury that is wrought to souls by this cruel 
 thoughtlessness, or deliberate cruelty, is faithfully por- 
 trayed by Schiller. He represents (Philosophical Letters) 
 a certain Julius as writing to Raphael in the following 
 strain: "You have robbed me of the thought that gave 
 me peace. You have taught me to despise where I prayed 
 before. A thousand things were venerable in my sight 
 till your dismal wisdom stripped off the veil from them. 
 I saw a crowd of people streaming to church. I heard 
 their enthusiastic devotion poured forth in a common act 
 of prayer and praise. Twice did I stand beside a death- 
 bed and saw — wonderful power of religion ! — the hope 
 of heaven triumph over the terror of annihilation, and the 
 serene light of joy beaming from the eyes of those depart- 
 ing." But faith in the reality of this worship, and con- 
 fidence in the certainty of immortality, had alike been 
 destroyed by the sneers of his friend; and unhappy Julius 
 was [eft with his rationalism and his cynicism a poorer, and 
 11. »t a wiser, man. No wonder that the honest growler, Car- 
 
CARLYLE OX VOLTAIRE. 247 
 
 lyle, treats with contempt the men who lend themselves to 
 this pitiable and despicable business. "Cease, my much- 
 respected Herr von Voltaire," he says. " Shut thy sweet 
 voice, for the task appointed thee seems finished. Suffi- 
 ciently hast thou demonstrated this proposition, consider- 
 able or otherwise : that the Mythus of the Christian Re- 
 ligion looks not in the eighteenth century as it did in the 
 eighth." . . . "But what next? Wilt thou help us to 
 embody the divine Spirit of that religion in a new Mythus, 
 in a new vehicle and vesture, that our Souls, otherwise too 
 like perishing, may live ? What ! Thou hast no faculty 
 in that kind ? Only a torch for burning, no hammer for 
 building? Take our thanks, then, and — thyself away." 
 Evidently Carlyle felt that it might offend ears polite for 
 him to write all that was in his heart when thinking of 
 such melodious faith-murderers as Voltaire. With them 
 he had no sympathy; neither have we, and we feel their 
 bigotry and heartlessness so keenly that we turn from 
 them with horror and deplore the condition of every man 
 who falls a prey to their insidious wiles. 
 
 Whether this aversion is justifiable or not, you, my 
 readers, must decide. I leave you to ponder the serious 
 matter in your souls; but being satisfied in my own that 
 it is, and feeling interested in your spiritual well-being, 
 permit me to press home the duty incumbent on you if 
 you would be free from the entangling meshes of Skep- 
 ticism. The Country Parson gives this good advice to 
 persons in your condition: "Don't turn your back upon 
 your doctrinal doubts and difficulties. Go up to them and 
 examine them. Perhaps the ghastly object which looks 
 to you in the twilight like a sheeted ghost may prove to 
 be no more than a tablecloth hanging upon a hedge; but 
 if you were to pass it distantly without ascertaining what 
 it is, you might carry the shuddering belief that you had 
 seen a disembodied" spirit all your days. Some people 
 
248 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 (very wrongly as I think) would have you turn the key 
 upon your skeptical difficulties and look away from the 
 pig-sty altogether." 
 
 I do not belong to this class. I think it is the duty 
 of every man to confront boldly and investigate fear- 
 lessly all kinds of objections that may obscure the truth 
 of Christianity. As a rule, the more thoroughly they 
 are sifted and the more closely they are scrutinized, the 
 less real and weighty will they appear. Have the cour- 
 age to grasp them, to clutch them firmly and look them 
 squarely in the face, and you shall find their seeming 
 solidity to be nothing but vapor, and their pretentious 
 speech to be but empty gasconade and windy rodomont- 
 ade. Take the claims of Christianity and all the diffi- 
 culties in the way of their reception, apply yourself to 
 understand, examine, and judge them, and if the task is 
 undertaken in the right spirit the result need not be 
 apprehended. Search diligently, for this is no child's play 
 for sluggard brains and fitful, spasmodic efforts; search 
 impartially, for this is too grave a work for purblind preju- 
 dice, obstinate onesidedness, and nutshell narrow-mind- 
 edness; search systematically, for this is too deep and 
 profound a theme for irregular, unmethodical, and indis- 
 criminate thinking; search exhaustively, for the problems 
 involved are too intricate and abstruse for shallow-headed, 
 dull-witted, shoaly superficialness; and search reverently, 
 for the issues are too solemn and wide-reaching for quip 
 and quirk, conceits and comicalities, showy smartness, 
 buffooneries, and idle farcicalities. Thus search, rever- 
 encing God, reverencing truth, and reverencing self, and 
 then shall it be found that reason and faith coalesce in 
 lucid union, that Christianity is not a phantom, but the 
 one reality mocked by gibing ghosts, and that Skepticism 
 is imt unconquerable, but vulnerable to earnest and exact- 
 in- thought. But even if it should resist laborious medi- 
 
FALTERING FAITH. 249 
 
 tation and refuse entirely to surrender, if faith should 
 continue to be darkened by great shadows and grow 
 faint and cold before the breath of drear despondency, 
 nevertheless, though struggling to see in the imperfect 
 light, and failing to rise above the murky atmosphere, the 
 knowledge mastered and the evidence tested would not be 
 useless. At least they will bring a certain confidence in 
 the reality of religion, a profound conviction of the utter 
 folly of unbelief, and if they do nothing more, they will 
 constrain the troubled and unsatisfied soul with the sad, 
 bereaved one in Tennyson's In Jfemoriam to exclaim: 
 
 "I falter where I firmly trod, 
 
 And falling with my weight of cares 
 Upon the great world's altar-stairs 
 That slope thro' darkness up to God, 
 I stretch lame hands of faith and grope, 
 And gather dust and chaff, and call 
 To what I feel is Lord of all, 
 And faintly trust the larger hope." 
 
LIBERALISM. 
 
 " Hirn that is weak in the faith receive ye, but not to doubtful 
 disputations." Rom. xiv, 1. 
 
 " Why is my liberty judged of another man's conscience?" 
 
 1 Cor. x, 29. 
 
 " O love-destroying, cursed Bigotry ! 
 ... Of ignorance 
 
 Begot, her daughter, Persecution, walked 
 The earth, from age to age, and drank the blood 
 Of saints; with horrid relish drank the blood 
 Of God's peculiar children, and was drunk, 
 And in her drunkenness dreamed of doing good. 
 The supplicating hand of innocence, 
 That made the tiger mild, and in his wrath 
 The lion pause, the groans of suffering most 
 Severe, were naught to her; she laughed at groans; 
 No music pleased her more, and no repast 
 So sweet to her as blood of men redeemed 
 By blood of Christ." Pottok. 
 
 THANKS be to God, all this is changed! But the 
 greatness of this revolution is more vividly realized in 
 Europe than in America. There the eye frequently rests 
 on the now useless weapons of persecuting ages, and on 
 the monuments which the modern spirit has reared to mur- 
 dered saints. The hypocritical pharisees of Christ's time, 
 who garnished the tombs of the righteous, were accus- 
 tomed to say, with what degree of sincerity you who have 
 studied their character can judge, " If we had lived in the 
 days of our fathers we would not have been partakers 
 with them in the blood of the prophets." And many of 
 those who have been instrumental in quenching the fires 
 
 250 
 
THE AGE OF FREEDOM. 251 
 
 of martyrdom, and in commemorating the grandeur of 
 suffering goodness, may have been equally insincere; but 
 if they were, this fact shows only more clearly the strength 
 of the liberalistic movement, before which even their bigo- 
 try was compelled to succumb. In the Tower of London 
 the now harmless thumb-screws and the now edgeless ax 
 are exhibited to the curious, and recall to thoughtful souls 
 the terrors of secret tortures, and of public or private 
 executions. How innocent they seem, and yet what a 
 story they could relate of undeserved pain inflicted, of 
 piteous shrieks and groans unheeded, and of hearts sob- 
 bing in helpless anguish beneath the iron rule of tyrant 
 kings and priests, who recognized no conscience but their 
 own. Their tragic work is ended forevermore, and now 
 the red republican can mock the ax, and the despised 
 heretic can smile at the cruel thumb-screw, while they 
 give free expression to their political or theological dis- 
 sent. 
 
 In Venice there are three buildings significantly joined 
 together, and each bears its own peculiar testimony to the 
 decline of oppression. The first is the basilica of St. 
 Mark, that noble creation of Byzantine art on which Rus- 
 kin has lavished so much praise. The next is the palace 
 of the Doges, so closely connected with it that the chief 
 of the government could pass from his regal home to the 
 place of worship without exposing himself to the public 
 view; and the third is the prison bound to the palace by 
 the ever-famous Bridge of Sighs. Here we have in stone 
 the suggestive symbol of the hated alliance which wrought 
 so much mischief to society. Whenever the church and 
 state are banded together, the darkness and horror of the 
 prison are inevitable. But in our times the Italian hierar- 
 chy is practically dissevered from the Italian government, 
 and St. Mark's attracts the curious tourist more than it 
 does the devout worshiper. The palace of the Doges and 
 
252 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 of the mysterious Council of Ten is converted into a pic- 
 ture gallery and museum, and the prison is devoted to 
 criminals, not to saints; while from their hinges the doors 
 have been torn by the outraged people from the dungeons 
 beneath the palace, in which so many noble men and 
 women suffered unjustly, and in whose dampness and 
 gloominess so many foul deeds were perpetrated. 
 
 Florence rejoices in its sacred temple of St. Croce, 
 enriched with memorials to departed greatness. Among 
 the monuments are two which mutely, but distinctly, pro- 
 claim the revolution that has taken place in human senti- 
 ment regarding the rights of conscience. They are reared 
 to the memory of Dante, who was banished to Ravenna, 
 and there died, and Galileo Galilei, who was hounded 
 mercilessly by the Inquisition. The tomb of the astrono- 
 mer, who was execrated by the church, represents him 
 with a telescope in one hand, and with a diagram of the 
 earth in the other; a ladder above him reaches to the 
 heavens, denoting his aspiring intellect; and two burn- 
 ing vases symbolize the immortality of his fame. Who 
 would have been mad enough to predict, when he trem- 
 blingly bowed before the authority of the haughty Roman 
 church, that he would ever be honored with such a tribute 
 within the walls of one of her most stately edifices ? Nev- 
 ertheless, what would then have been considered a wild 
 dream has been accomplished; and between the lines of 
 his epitaph may be read the undeniable fact that freedom 
 of thought and of speech has gloriously triumphed. 
 
 While it is a cause of congratulation that the victory 
 is thus pronounced, it is not yet possible to claim that it 
 is absolutely complete. The old spirit of persecution is 
 not yet quite dead. It asserts itself still, as occasion 
 serves, in the decrees and deeds of the Papacy, and some- 
 times peers forth undisguised in the words and works of 
 Protestantism. Bigotry, intellectual narrowness, and ig- 
 
MODERN BIGOTRY. 253 
 
 norant prejudice, if not as common as in the past, are 
 altogether too frequent for unalloyed satisfaction to be 
 felt in the present. Although it is readily conceded that 
 no church is infallible, and that no body of men have 
 mastered the om)ie scibile, as a Princeton Review writer 
 phrases it, and although it is expected that new light will 
 be evolved from the Holy Scriptures, it is a very hazardous 
 undertaking for an adventurous teacher to run counter to 
 the received opinions of the majority, or to advocate what 
 the fathers failed to formulate. There is enough intoler- 
 ance in the religious world to make the position of such 
 a man exceedingly uncomfortable. Supposing that he is 
 not guilty of heresy, and that his presentation of truth 
 differs more in form than in substance from what is gen- 
 erally received, or that it is simply a development and a 
 carrying to a higher plane the doctrines that are currently 
 accepted, nevertheless, his boldness and progressiveness 
 will alarm conservatives and arouse their antagonism. 
 Even questions of a lower order, which pertain to the 
 domain of expediency, and which confessedly must be 
 decided by the individual, are dealt with by some Chris- 
 tians acrimoniously and dogmatically. If their brethren 
 exercise their liberty in these things the law of charity is 
 quite forgotten, and they are denounced and derided in a 
 manner that suggests the harsh, rough ages when no ill- 
 usage was considered too severe for the wicked wretches 
 who presumed to think and act according to the dictates 
 of their conscience. But it is not necessary to point out 
 the various ways, or to chronicle the miserable and mean 
 methods, by which the attenuated bigotry of modern times 
 seeks to maintain itself; it is enough simply to notice the 
 tenacity with which it holds to life without exposing any 
 further its ghastly deformities. 
 
 Professors of religion, however, are not the only ones 
 in this liberalistic age who are guilty of illiberality. Out- 
 
254 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 side of the church, among those who claim to be the 
 special champions of free thought, and who are constantly 
 sneering at the narrowness of Christ's disciples, dogmatism 
 in its worst form reveals itself. Infidel lecturers, who 
 admit that they have nothing particularly definite or valu- 
 able to communicate, breathe out their anathemas in a 
 manner worthy the Vatican. Even men of science are 
 sometimes impatient and violent when the soundness of 
 their theories is called in question. It is a matter of com- 
 mon notoriety that Virchow, because he has had the moral 
 courage to say that the descent of man from the ape has 
 not been substantiated, is hooted and howled at by the 
 advanced evolutionists of Germany. And his experience is 
 identical with that of others who have had the temerity to 
 challenge the claims of an hypothesis, whose facts are very 
 largely fancies, and whose fancies are pretty generally fatui- 
 ties. The lamented Mr. James T. Fields describes an im- 
 pressive scene that was enacted at a meeting of the French 
 Institute in 1798. St. Pierre, the author of that delightful 
 book, Paul and Virginia, was requested to present a paper 
 on the question "What institutions are the most proper to 
 form a basis for public morals ? " He undertook the work, 
 and embodied in it his own deep convictions regarding the 
 iiulispensableness of piety. His colleagues were avowedly 
 skeptical and atheistical, and were not prepared to wel- 
 come an expression of religious sentiment. When he read 
 his <\ssay the Institute became violently agitated, and on 
 the mention of God's name the entire body seemed to lose 
 its composure and self-control. St. Pierre was mocked, 
 insulted, threatened. One member sneeringly inquired 
 when had he seen God. Others offered to fight him, 
 thai the sword might decide whether or not such a Being 
 existed; while others derided his advanced years, insinu- 
 ating that he had come to his second childhood; and yet 
 another, more furious than the rest, threateningly cried out, 
 
BIGOTRY OF PHILOSOPHERS. 255 
 
 "I swear that there is no God, and I demand that his 
 name never again be pronounced within these walls." 
 Just think of a company of scholars, pledged to the cause 
 of liberty, unable to restrain their fanatical hatred of 
 Christianity, and betrayed by it into a course of conduct 
 as indecent as it is intolerant. In the presence of such a 
 humiliating spectacle, it is only fair to conclude that 
 bigotry is not peculiar to the church, but is possible and 
 frequent in every other department of thought and life, 
 and that even the profession of extreme charitableness is 
 far from being an assurance of its possession or consistent 
 exercise. 
 
 But, while this vice should be condemned wherever it 
 is found, it is not to be concluded that Liberalism in its 
 theories and practical workings is entitled to unqualified 
 praise. It is far from being an unmixed good. Bishop 
 Ken said of it, many years ago: " It is the common sewer 
 of all heresies imaginable;" and his Grace of London, in 
 1850, declared it to be a sea without a shore, having no 
 polar star to guide those who embark on it but the uncer- 
 tain light of reason. Mr. Mallock, who has thoroughly 
 studied its various phases, in his New Republic gives a 
 not very flattering account of its character. He makes 
 Leslie say, when criticising Dr. Jenkinson's sermon: 
 " You forget that Dr. J's Christianity is really a new firm 
 trading under an old name, and trying to purchase the 
 good will of the former establishment;" to which Herbert 
 responds: "It is simply our modern Atheism trying to 
 hide its own nakedness for the benefit of the more prudish 
 part of the public in the cast-off grave-clothes of a Christ 
 who, whether He be risen or no, is very certainly not 
 here." Possibly this is an extreme view of the situation; 
 but no one can read the amiable latitudinarian sentiments 
 of Dean Stanley, or the beautiful indefiniteness of Mat- 
 thew Arnold, or the yet graver looseness of a London 
 
256 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 divine, who recently proposed the formation of a Chris- 
 tian fraternity with Christianity left out, and not perceive 
 that the drift is toward a charity that disregards prin- 
 ciple, that imperils truth, and that threatens to substitute 
 license for liberty. From the writings of these brilliant 
 men, and from other works in circulation that treat the 
 question more or less completely, it seems legitimate to 
 infer that Liberalism regards itself as the only estimable 
 thing in the universe, and as the only thing having rights 
 which everyone should respect. Faithfulness to God's 
 truth, conscientious convictions, devotion to law and 
 order, it esteems as of secondary moment, and not to be 
 brought into comparison with its own more vital interests. 
 They who differ from its teachings it stigmatizes as 
 bigots, and they who decline to give aid and comfort to 
 its hazy notions, because they believe them to be per- 
 nicious, it characterizes as persecutors; and then becomes 
 as blind, obstinate, and ungenerous in its own assump- 
 tions and defense as it conceives its adversaries to be in 
 their resistance to its encroachments. Evidently there is 
 something wrong in all this. Exaggeration and perver- 
 sion exist somewhere. If this is the animus of modern 
 Liberalism, it is as unattractive as ancient bigotry; and 
 one could hardly have a choice between them. They are 
 both fatal to religious growth and influence. If bigotry 
 may be likened to a rifle that murders with a single bullet 
 the spiritual susceptibilities of our nature, Liberalism may 
 be compared to a shot-gun, which, with its numerous 
 leaden pellets, can hardly fail to hit, tear, and slaughter. 
 The only discernible choice between them is the prefer- 
 ence one may have between being pierced or riddled. 
 
 In the New Testament, and particularly in the chapters 
 from which the texts introducing this study are derived, 
 the law of charity, as binding on churches and individuals, 
 is very clearly stated and very fully discussed. " He that 
 
THE LAW OF CHARITY. 257 
 
 is weak in the faith is to be received" — received into fel- 
 lowship, but not to "doubtful disputations," or not to the 
 impugning of motives and criticism of doctrines. Judged by 
 what follows, the apostle has special reference to ritual and 
 traditional observances, which Jewish Christians esteemed 
 very highly, and desired their fellow-disciples to honor. 
 The principle involved, however, seems to me susceptible 
 of a wider application. Their attitude toward the cere- 
 monial must have been occasioned by their view, or their 
 conception of Christianity as a system. That it was a 
 faulty view the entire argument of the apostle implies, 
 and yet he is prepared to fraternize with those who held 
 it. If their divergence from the Faith is not perfectly an- 
 alogous, it is fairly comparable to that which is not infre- 
 quently met with in our times. In every congregation there 
 are those who entertain grave doubts regarding some 
 rules governing the administration of ordinances, or some 
 interpretations of important Scriptures. Nevertheless, be- 
 cause they are not in full accord with the majority they 
 are not to be treated as the enemies of truth. They are 
 to be received, but not to any kind of disputation or 
 wrangling. While they are entitled to respect, they, in 
 their turn, are not to despise others. Toward each other 
 they are to exercise mutual toleration; and here is 
 brought to light what toleration always presupposes — 
 namely, differences. It is an impossible grace where there 
 is no disagreement. Is it not a solecism to speak of toler- 
 ating the presence or the opinions of one with whom we 
 have no controversy ? And yet professors of religion fre- 
 quently use the term in this meaningless manner. They 
 claim to be tolerant, and would wax indignant at any in- 
 timation to the contrary; and yet when an actual case of 
 dissidence occurs, even on points, such as amusements, 
 over which, in general, the church has no control, or on 
 moot-doctrines, such as the degree and nature of inspira- 
 17 
 
258 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 tion, the philosophy and limits of atonement, and the 
 precise character and extent of retribution, they are 
 censorious in their judgments, and are prepared to adopt 
 the extremest measures. This is not charity. While 
 charity "rejoiceth in the truth," it " beareth all things, 
 believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all 
 things"; but that which beareth nothing, whatever else 
 it may be, certainly is not charity. To call it by so sacred 
 a name is like denominating that quality courage which 
 parades itself in the season of safety but cowers and 
 trembles on the approach of danger. 
 
 Nor should it be overlooked that this grace ever leads 
 its possessor to sacrifice his own liberty for the good of 
 others. He will be careful not to put a stumbling-block 
 or an occasion to fall in his brother's way. The man who 
 has an appetite for strong drink may have no right to de- 
 mand that the temperate shall abstain, and he may be 
 very dictatorial and absurd in his reasoning; nevertheless, 
 charity will constrain the Christian, if his example may 
 cause another to offend, quietly and unostentatiously to 
 refrain. A disciple of Christ will realize deeply that it is 
 not his special business to care for himself, or proudly to 
 stand for his own rights, but to aid his fellow-beings; 
 and if such service can be better rendered by avoiding 
 antagonism with what his broader vision sees to be 
 ignorant prejudice, he will rather in the spirit of tolera- 
 tion yield to the unreasonable than diminish his power for 
 good. " For meat " he will not " destroy the work of 
 God;" but "will seek the profit of many, that they may 
 be saved." 
 
 But the exercise of this grace is not without limita- 
 tions. On the one side the individual, remembering what 
 Paul has said regarding his supreme responsibility to God, 
 will not allow himself to be coerced by the conscience of 
 other people into conformity with ideas and practices 
 
DUTY OF THE CHURCH. 259 
 
 which are unauthorized by clear Scripture warrant, even 
 though, as a matter of expediency and in the enjoyment 
 of liberty, he may be willing to adopt them. Here he 
 finds the limit to his toleration; as Coleridge puts it, it is 
 limited by the intolerance of others. And, on the other 
 side, the church as a body, recalling the stress everywhere 
 laid by the sacred writers on the importance of truth, on 
 the duty of contending earnestly for the faith, on the obli- 
 gation to walk in holiness and in every way worthy of the 
 Christian vocation; and remembering the exhortation of 
 the apostle "to give none offense," or, rather, to cause 
 none to offend, the church itself being included, and " to 
 follow after the things which make for peace, and things 
 wherewith one may edify another," may not without 
 guilt permit such radical divergence from the precepts, 
 doctrines, and ordinances of the gospel as would set at 
 naught these obligations. While she has no warrant to 
 insist on subscription to man-made definitions, or to 
 demand a strict adherence to the letter of her creed if its 
 spirit is honestly maintained, or to exact such slavish sub- 
 mission to her teachings as would render investigation a 
 crime, she is bound to forbid such departure from them as 
 would wreck her unity, undermine her vitality and over- 
 throw her authority. Liberality is here hedged in by the 
 higher law of faithfulness. It is always easier to be liberal 
 than it is to be true. When that which the church 
 represents, and which she is set to defend, is imper- 
 iled by the disloyalty of members, either in faith or in 
 practice, toleration becomes a crime against the Headship 
 of Christ and the welfare of humanity. Its limits have 
 been reached. The church must clear herself of all com- 
 plicity with the evil-doers. Charity to them means 
 cruelty to the world. Up to this point she should bear and 
 forbear; up to the promulgating of doctrines subversive 
 of her essential nature, and destructive of her unity, she 
 
260 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 should patiently endure; but when that point is passed, 
 the only recourse left . is — separation. "How can two 
 walk together unless they be agreed ?" 
 
 This, as I understand it, taken in connection with the 
 more general and fully accepted principle that the civil 
 government has no authority to regulate religious belief, 
 is New Testament Liberalism. But that which sails under 
 this flag in our day is something very different, and some- 
 thing whose influence cannot but be regarded as preju- 
 dicial to Christianity. 
 
 Its questionable tendency may be inferred from its an- 
 tagonism to definite statements of truth. Among its ad- 
 vocates the opinion prevails that Christ's teachings are 
 fluid, susceptible of various meanings, and comparable 
 more to music than to doctrine. Hear Stopford Brooke 
 on this point : " Neither you nor I can say of that air of 
 Mozart's that it means this or that. It means one thing 
 to me, another thing to you. It leaves, however, an in- 
 definite but similar impression upon us both, — a sense of 
 exquisite melody which soothes life, a love of a life in har- 
 mony with the impressions made, and an affection for the 
 man who gave us so delicate an emotion. So it is with 
 the words of Christ. The understanding cannot define 
 them; the spirit received them, and each man receives 
 them in accordance with the state of his spirit." This, 
 of course, is meant to be complimentary to " Him who 
 spake as never man spake; " but in my judgment it is just 
 the reverse. If it means anything it means either that 
 Jesus had no truths to make known and hid the emptiness 
 of His message beneath glittering generalities, or that He 
 was Dot skillful enough to embody His thoughts in lan- 
 guage. 1 am not willing to accept either reflection on 
 His fitness to be the world's prophet, especially when it 
 is evident that they who accuse Him of indefiniteness are 
 seeking, at His expense, to justify their own rejection of 
 
VALUE OF DOGMA. 261 
 
 the cardinal doctrines of Christianity. If it could for one 
 moment be admitted, it would follow that religion has no 
 specific faith, and consequently its claims to be an intel- 
 ligible system would be absurd. 
 
 Is it not possible for every clear idea to be accurately 
 stated ? and, if it is to be communicated, must it not be 
 stated ? and if it is thus stated, does it not become a doc- 
 trine ? Now, what objection can there be to such an ex- 
 pression of what is really believed ? Scientists, philoso- 
 phers and legislators would never expect to enrich the 
 race with practical knowledge if they were to adopt a 
 gushing, loose, sentimental style. They aim at exactness, 
 dogmatic exactness, and we would not have it otherwise. 
 How can it be hoped that religious knowledge can be suc- 
 cessfully imparted in any other way ? Indeed, I do not 
 suppose that anyone really thinks that it can. How- 
 ever liberal a teacher may be, he does not hesitate to 
 affirm his faith in God, and it is only when he comes to 
 doctrines which he cannot accept that he begins to talk 
 his vague nonsense about " slavish, arrogant, and barren 
 dogma." But we are not deceived; it is not the verbal 
 proposition he dislikes, it is the idea it conveys. Then let 
 him just say so. Let him say, I reject such or such a 
 doctrine, because I am convinced it is false, not because it 
 is wrong to define it accurately. Were he to do this the 
 world would see that the difference between him and 
 other Christians is not in the breadth of their generous- 
 ness, but in the range of their belief. But as it is, his 
 unguarded denunciation of dosnna is calculated to leave 
 on the mind of the people the impression that there is no 
 such thing as Christian truth, or, at least, nothing specific 
 enough to be of any particular value. 
 
 Such an effect, surely, is to be deplored. Modern Lib- 
 eralism claims that it is more interested in conduct than 
 in creed. So is orthodoxy. But can it be proven that 
 
262 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 the one is independent of the other ? I venture to say 
 that it cannot. Back of every noble life there are prin- 
 ciples which have fashioned it. I am not going to say 
 that these principles must be identical with the evangel- 
 ical faith, though I think it would be better if they were; 
 but only that they must be adequate. Every worthy 
 character has its basis in truth, as the most enduring 
 structure has its foundation in the rock. Now my objec- 
 tion to Liberalism is, not that it cannot subscribe to evan- 
 gelical teachings, but that its antagonism to definitions, 
 consistently followed, involves all that it may suggest for 
 the guidance of life in such indistinctness and doubt that 
 principles of any kind must be impossible. That this is 
 its influence may be inferred from the lax morality which 
 is developing on every side. Every religious community 
 feels the presence of this Ism more or less potently, and 
 in proportion as it is felt indifference to obligation is pain- 
 fully manifest. And never may we hope for a change 
 until truth is restored to its lawful place in the life, and 
 its dogmatic specificness, as well as its authority, is can- 
 didly acknowledged. 
 
 The questionable tendency of genial laxity may also be 
 inferred from its incompatibility with order. God evi- 
 dently dislikes confusion, fitfulness, and irregularity; for 
 everywhere in the universe we discover their opposite. 
 Southey has said, " Order is the sanity of the mind, the 
 health of the body, the peace of the city, the security of 
 the state;" and Carlyle has declared that "disorder vera- 
 cious created nature, even because it is not chaos and a 
 waste-whirling fantasm, rejects and disowns." When 
 carelessness prevails in the home there will be boisterous 
 tongues, fretfulness, neglect, and general untidiness and 
 unthriftiness; when it obtains in the state there will be 
 distrust, oppression, insurrections, and hourly danger to 
 life and property; and when it is transferred to the 
 
THE QUESTION OF ORDER. 263 
 
 church there will be contentions, impatience, grumbling; 
 inconsistency in life and indefiniteness in aim; or having 
 repudiated government, doctrines and ordinances, there 
 may be sweetness and sentimentality, but there will be 
 little consecration or concentration in religious work. 
 Verily, as Hooker said many years ago, " Of law there can 
 be no less acknowledged than that her seat is the bosom 
 of God, her voice the harmony of the world: all things in 
 heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as feeling 
 her care, and the greatest as not exempt from her 
 power." 
 
 The primary assumption of latitudinarians that the 
 church should be a common receptacle for all kinds of con- 
 tradictory teachings and speculations is utterly destructive 
 of everything like order. It may read beautifully in theory; 
 but what does it actually mean in practice ? To realize such 
 an ideal one of two conditions must be complied with — 
 either the members must consent to have no ideas or they 
 must agree never to express them. But if they have 
 none, an organization is superfluous, for there is nothing 
 of sufficient interest to draw them together; and if they 
 have some, and fail to avow them, it is still difficult to see 
 how, without either object or motive, they could effect 
 anything like an organic union. Then supposing that 
 they have convictions, differing as radically as those 
 which now separate various denominations of Christians, 
 and honestly express them, and conscientiously believe 
 that religious effort should be determined by them, how 
 can strife, contention, and the consequent paralysis of 
 endeavor be avoided ? If it shall be suggested that every 
 member of the church, with those who may sympathize 
 with him, would work as his conscience dictates, and 
 others could do the same, no possible advantage, but only 
 disadvantage, would accrue to the whole body from the 
 arrangement. It would simply be another form of exist- 
 
264 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ing sectarianism, with this difference, that the sects would 
 all be represented in one single community, and the close- 
 ness of their intimacy, and the antagonisms to which their 
 conflicting interests would give rise, would render any- 
 thing like government impracticable. Thus, there seems 
 to be an insurmountable difficulty in the way of attaining to 
 order on the basis of Liberalism. Now, what the world 
 requires to-day is something more than diffusive and senti- 
 mental good nature. It needs philanthropic effort, concen- 
 trated and well-directed endeavor, which can only proceed 
 from bodies — bodies complete and in substantial har- 
 mony. Sin is in earnest, crime is intensely so, and they 
 both strengthen their hold on humanity by evil confed- 
 eracies, and at least are strong enough to defy the attacks 
 of such undisciplined forces as Liberalism can bring into 
 the field. If Christianity is to succeed, it must be in ear- 
 nest, too, and if it is, then it must build up organizations 
 on a definite faith, having a common aim, and a united 
 heart. Only through such means can it expect to prevail 
 against the foes which swarm around it, seeking its utter 
 overthrow. 
 
 Believe me, we shall attain more speedily the harmony 
 of views, and the victory over evil which we all so long to 
 achieve by faithfulness than by this perversion of charity. 
 So much is now said in praise of this latter grace that we 
 have quite overlooked the higher and nobler one — Faith- 
 fulness. And yet it is the heroic quality — that to which 
 we can trace not only the preservation, but the progress 
 of religion; that which sheltered the infant church, de- 
 fended her purity from tyrants, and guarded her life from 
 corruption. How many volumes have been written to 
 record the victories of freedom, of prayer, of love, and 
 how much has even been ascribed to the unsettling influ- 
 ence of infidelity. Doubtless they all have been potent; 
 but the deeds of Faithfulness will compare with any of 
 
THE THREAD OF HONOR. 265 
 
 them. It was Faithfulness that saved Christianity when 
 threatened by the Empire, that rescued it from Romanism, 
 and that delivered it from Secularism. But for her it 
 would have been exterminated by the one, paganized 
 by the other, and thoroughly corrupted by the third. 
 Faithfulness defied the emperors, sang her song to the 
 accompaniment of growling lions in the arena, wrote her 
 belief on dungeon walls, and shouted it amid the hiss 
 and the roar of martyr-fires. Faithfulness prayed when 
 others cursed, circulated the gospel while others slept, 
 contended for every inch of the ground with error, detect- 
 ed its devices, resisted its encroachments, thrust her bleed- 
 ing form in the way of its progress, and when crushed, rose 
 again to pluck from its hand the victory it had nearly won. 
 Let this magnificent record assure you that your usefulness 
 will be measured by your loyalty more than by your liber- 
 ality, and that your success in overcoming the enemies of 
 Christ, and in harmonizing His friends, will depend more 
 on your fidelity to principle than on your tolerance of error. 
 Both graces are of the highest moment; but let it never be 
 overlooked that the beautifying one is charity, while the 
 practical one is faithfulness. So sublime is this virtue that 
 it excites admiration even in its enemies. Frederick Rob- 
 ertson, when illustrating the poetic sentiment in conduct, 
 describes how a company of soldiers w T ere separated from 
 their command among the mountains of India, and how 
 they were butchered by the hill tribes. When their bodies 
 were found, around the wrist of each dead soldier was tied 
 a red thread, a tribute which the savage foe had paid to 
 their valor. It signified that the men fell at their post, 
 and by fidelity had won this red thread of honor. Singu- 
 lar treatment this, but not uncommon. Whenever Faith- 
 fulness has shown herself in this feculent w T orld she has 
 been pelted with mud. Literary scullions, reputationless 
 hirelings, the low camp-followers of vice and degradation, 
 
266 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 have never hesitated to chase her up and down the streets 
 and trample her in the mire. Nor may she ever look for 
 a more kindly reception while society remains the coarse 
 and vulgar and ungenerous thing that it is. But it is not 
 for her to be dismayed. In patience she must possess her 
 soul. The hounds may bay on! The devils may howl ! No 
 devil yet has ever been able to stamp out the glory of 
 an angel's plumage; and no breath of slander and no 
 attack of calculating maliciousness shall ever perma- 
 nently stain the robe of Faithfulness or mar her beauty. 
 Enemies may assault her; they may cast her body into 
 the vale beneath the height on which she dwells; but 
 even in their dastard hearts there will be found a lurk- 
 ing admiration for what they cannot imitate; for while 
 they curse they will twine the red thread of honor round 
 her wrist. They cannot but reverence what they would 
 destroy; and future generations, when these enemies lie 
 ignobly forgotten in the dust, will rise up and call her 
 blessed, — and motive this for every heart to give her 
 loyal entertainment. 
 
FORMALISM. 
 
 " The good Lord pardon everyone that prepareth his heart to 
 seek God, the Lord God of his fathers, though he be not cleansed 
 according to the purification of the sanctuary." 2 Chron. xxx, 19. 
 
 " Ceremony leads her bigots forth, 
 Prepared to fight for shadows of no worth ; 
 While truths on which eternal things depend 
 Find not, or hardly find, a single friend; 
 As soldiers watch the signal of command, 
 They learn to bow, to kneel, to sit, to stand ; 
 Happy to fill religion's vacant place 
 With hollow form, and gesture, and grimace." 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 WHEN Goethe was a boy the controversies which 
 agitated religious circles, and which resulted in the 
 secession from the established church of the Separatists, 
 Pietists, and Moravians, impressed his precocious mind 
 very deeply, and led him to devise a worship of his own. 
 The young priest felt that the Almighty should not be 
 approached through ecclesiastical ceremonies, but through 
 the things which He had made; and yet, instead of com- 
 muning directly with Him through nature, he patterned 
 after the very ritualists from whom he dissented, and 
 reared unto Him an artificial altar. A red-lacquered music- 
 stand, beautifully ornamented, and rising like a four-sided 
 pyramid, was chosen as the foundation of his pious work. 
 This he covered with ores and other natural curiosities, 
 crowning the summit with a fine porcelain saucer, from 
 which he desired a flame to ascend emblematical of the 
 heart's aspirations. How to produce this flame occasioned 
 him some perplexity; but at last his ingenuity suggested 
 
 267 
 
268 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 the use of fumigating pastiles, which, though they would 
 only sputter and sparkle, would at least emit a pleasant 
 fragrance. The arrangements being perfected, and, kin- 
 dling his pastiles one fine morning, with the aid of a 
 burning-glass, he performed his devotion in an edifying 
 manlier, and to his own entire satisfaction. But the 
 course of worship, like that of true love, is not always 
 smooth, and Goethe found that his experiment was 
 doomed to meet with ignominious disaster. Undertaking 
 to repeat his adorations, he discovered, when too late, 
 that the porcelain dish had been removed, and that his 
 aromatic cones must be placed directly on the upper sur- 
 face of the music-stand. In that position they were kin- 
 dled, and the result was that they mercilessly burned into 
 the red lacquer and the gold flowers, sadly and ineffaceably 
 marring the beautiful and valuable work of art. The 
 effect of the mischief, as may easily be imagined, was not 
 conducive to piety. What the youth said on the occasion 
 is not recorded; but in his Autobiography, where this 
 narrative in his own words is found, we have the following 
 reflections on the occurrence: "The spirit for new offer- 
 ings was gone, and the accident might almost be consid- 
 ered a hint and warning of the danger there always is in 
 wishing to approach the Deity in such a way." 
 
 Had the boy been content to draw near to God by " the 
 true and living way," in lowliness and simplicity, his ardor 
 would have escaped the chill it experienced on account of 
 this absurd anti-climax, and probably would have saved 
 his manhood from moral blemishes and irremediable mis- 
 takes. The old saying, "the child is father to the man," 
 was never more completely verified than in the case of 
 Goethe. He was essentially artistic in his tastes. His 
 religion was testhetical, not ethical and devotional. In 
 after yours we recognize in his writings the spirit of the 
 boy-ritualist. He has passed from altar-building to litera- 
 
CEREMONY AMONG SAVAGES. 269 
 
 ture, and yet his literature is a kind of altar, reared, how- 
 ever, more to nature than to God. It seems impossible 
 for him to rise higher than the -outward and visible; and 
 when his pages gleam with religious sentiments we find 
 that they are excited by the sublime and beautiful in 
 God's works, and not by any deep discernment of what 
 God is in Himself. His toy-worship is indeed abandoned 
 forever, but he remains in heart to the end a formalist; 
 delighting in creation, his genius thrilling with its won- 
 ders, but never, apparently, rejoicing in the Creator, or 
 feeling the influences of His spirit. 
 
 Humanity at large in this respect is not very unlike the 
 poet-philosopher. From its infancy to the present it has 
 manifestly tended toward some species of ceremonialism, 
 or mere outwardness; has inclined toward the multiplicity 
 of observances ; and in magnifying their value beyond 
 measure, it has frequently lost sight of the realities and 
 the essence of religion. Herbert Spencer, in one of his 
 latest works, has very amply shown that punctilious cour- 
 tesy and minute formality in social and national relations 
 do not mark the highest civilization; but that among such 
 savage people as the Ashantees and Loangoes they receive 
 the most scrupulous attention. Thus, " in the kingdom of 
 Uganda, where, directed by the king to try a rifle present- 
 ed to him by Speke, a page went to the door and shot the 
 first man he saw in the distance; and where, as Stanley 
 tells us, under the last king, Suna, five days were occupied 
 in cutting up thirty thousand prisoners who had surren- 
 dered, we find that an officer observed to salute infor- 
 mally is ordered for execution, while another, who, per- 
 haps, exposes an inch of naked leg while squatting, or has 
 his mbiKjii tied contrary to regulations, is condemned to 
 the same fate." This excessive respect for the trivialities 
 of social intercourse, and the heartlessness exhibited in 
 maintaining their authority, indicate that among these 
 
270 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 people ceremony is substituted for politeness, and the 
 symbols of reverence for its spirit. A similar inversion 
 makes up what we mean by Formalism in religion — the 
 sign is taken for the thing signified, and the soul is satis- 
 fied with the name instead of the substance — as one might 
 be content to live on the menu instead of the meal. When 
 the church service is composed of innumerable and unin- 
 telligible rites, which burden the conscience without re- 
 fining the heart; and when its rubric prescribes the precise 
 manner in which devotion shall find expression, we have 
 Formalism. When Brother Martin finds the priests, who 
 have just been conducting mass, laughing and joking at 
 the credulity of their flock, to employ no harsher term, he 
 has an exhibition of Formalism; and w T hen the sacred 
 duties which spring from our relations with the Supreme 
 and with each other are fulfilled as a matter of course and 
 from sheer necessity, or when the simplest worship is per- 
 formed from worldly motives, and emptied of all sympathy 
 and interest, Formalism is as apparent as it is in him who 
 smiles his congratulations through hyena eyes, snarls his 
 compliments through canine teeth, and commends his love 
 with the serpent's clammy, slimy touch. This is Formal- 
 ism, and toward it there is an ever-recurring trend. 
 
 It is met in connection with, perhaps, every historical 
 faith. The simple cult of the Veda was crushed beneath 
 the weight of Brahminical observances; the primitive free- 
 dom of Buddhism fell a prey to Lamaistic superstitions; 
 the pious feelings of the Romans were strangled by the 
 rigid clutch of prosaic divinities; the Greek religion, which 
 was conquered, like their country, in the hands of its new 
 adherents degenerated into endless mummeries and theat- 
 rical pomposities; the spirituality of Judaism was at last 
 fatally hampered with the dead body of narrow, literalistic 
 and bigoted pharisaism; while Christianity itself, the most 
 unfettered of all systems, and requiring more heart in its 
 
ROMANISTS AND PROTESTANTS. 271 
 
 service than any other, has been equally distorted and 
 travestied by ritualists on the one hand, and by nominal- 
 ists on the other. To-day the empire of faith suffers as 
 much from this cause as from any that can be specified. 
 Romanists announce a salvation which is inseparable from 
 ceremonial observance, and have so interblended and inter- 
 mixed ritual with ethics that it is next to impossible for 
 an ordinary mind to discriminate between them. While 
 the coherence of this organization is wonderful; for, judged 
 by what is known of it in Europe and America, it is a vast 
 and complicated machine, well oiled with promises of eter- 
 nal felicity, it affords very little opportunity for the free 
 play of the heart. Indeed, whatever degree of heartiness 
 is in it is there as a foreign element, unprovided for in its 
 arrangements, and unnecessary to their execution. High- 
 churchism errs in the same direction, if not to the same 
 extent, while the various Protestant bodies, though wisely 
 and rightly discarding the temptation to formality which 
 exists elsewhere, have not altogether escaped from its 
 deadening influence. 
 
 It is to be remembered that it is possible, even where 
 the forms are few, bare and unassuming. For instance, 
 when a creed is upheld by one who has no deep, genu- 
 ine and practical belief in what it teaches, or when the 
 importance of intellectual subscription is exaggerated 
 over soul affiliation, how shall this be justly character- 
 ized? Or, if the plainest dress is worn as a badge 
 of distinction, for the empty purpose of asserting un- 
 worldliness, and the significance of the garment be for- 
 gotten in the transactions of ordinary life, what name 
 ought to be applied to such inconsistency? Or, still 
 further, if ordinances are looked upon as talismans and 
 charms, and substituted for the blessings they denote; if 
 the lips are eloquent with praise while the heart is far 
 from God; and if the service of the sanctuary becomes 
 
272 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 frigid, stiff, and perfunctory, — the echo from a sepulcher, 
 and the rattle of a fleshless corpse, — how shall such a 
 shoaly, skinny, viscerated piety be described? Each of 
 these questions is answered by a single term, "Formal- 
 ism;" for evidently we confront in each of these cases 
 what the Savior condemns in the pharisees who paid 
 " tithe of mint, and anise, and cummin, while they neglect- 
 ed the weightier matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and 
 faith." 
 
 Against this evil the Scriptures constantly utter their 
 warning. They do so even when urging compliance with 
 all the outward requirements of religion. Certainly they 
 are far from treating contemptuously the ordinances or 
 duties which have been solemnly sanctioned by the Spirit. 
 These externals have their place in the divine economy, 
 and they are neither to be treated with disrespect nor 
 ignored. We are exhorted, at least by implication, to 
 " keep the ordinances as they were delivered " to us, to 
 " maintain the form of sound words," and to be faithful to 
 the profession made before many witnesses. Nor is it 
 practicable altogether to dispense with shadows, symbols, 
 and particular observances. " It is difficult," says the 
 Greek philosopher, " fully to exhibit greater things with- 
 out the aid of patterns; " and Lord Bacon insists on "the 
 indispensableness of similitudes." Figures in action, as 
 well as of speech, are the means by which our faith reveals 
 itself, asserts and communicates its message to mankind. 
 It is impossible to teach without words, which are the 
 signs of ideas; and it is equally so to sustain an organiza- 
 tion without some recognized external order, or to conduct 
 divine worship without some appropriate ceremony. These 
 things give definiteness, shape and expression to beliefs, 
 thoughts and convictions, which, apart from them, would 
 be somewhat indistinct to their possessors, and totally 
 valueless, because intangible, to the world. Consequently 
 
SPIRITUALITY OF THE HEBREWS. 273 
 
 the New Testament, as well as the Old, has its laws, rites, 
 and symbols. It describes a church which is not air- 
 built, vague, or phantom-like, but a substantial, well- 
 founded, and visible institution. It is clothed upon with 
 a body, and, though in comparison with the opaque Jewish 
 dispensation it may be a very transparent one, it is yet as 
 real as the texture of the crystal through whose flinty 
 pores the light streams, and in whose rocky heart it de- 
 lights to dwell. And, to follow this illustration, the 
 church, like the unflawed crystal, while it has a definite 
 form, is permeable with spiritual light, and is to be careful 
 neither to obstruct its incoming, nor its indwelling and 
 outgoing. 
 
 This duty was not entirely overlooked among the 
 ancient Jews. Though their religion was eminently ritual- 
 istic, — and, remembering the peculiarity of their position, 
 we ought not to be surprised that it was, — their prophets 
 frequently taught, and their most notable men discerned, 
 that the ceremonial, however important, was secondary in 
 value to the spiritual, and subordinate to its culture. The 
 Psalms of David may be taken as fairly exhibiting the 
 recognition of this distinction. There we meet with praises 
 and prayers which have been appropriated by the devout 
 of all ages as the language of their heart's deepest and 
 loftiest experiences. 
 
 From the chronicle of which our text is part we have 
 an instance of enlightened discrimination in this direction. 
 Hezekiah summoned the people to Jerusalem to keep the 
 Passover, but many of them had no opportunity to comply 
 with the ceremonial requirements which qualified for par- 
 ticipation, and consequently they approached the solemn 
 rite in what is described as an unsanctified condition. 
 But on this account they were not thrust aside. The 
 king realized the vital significance of the celebration to 
 Israel, and, under the circumstances, permitted anyone to 
 18 
 
274 ISMS OLD AXD NEW. 
 
 come who prepared his heart, though " he had not been 
 cleansed according to the purification of the sanctuary." 
 He did not question the binding authority of the ceremo- 
 nial law which had been neglected; for he prays that all 
 who are unable to keep it might be pardoned; but he does 
 not exalt it to such a height as to leave the impression 
 that its observance outweighed in value the preparation of 
 the heart. In this estimate he but follows the judgment 
 of Samuel, who said that to "obey is better than sacri- 
 fice, and to hearken than the fat of rams; " and anticipated 
 Isaiah, who in ringing words denounced the formal fasting 
 that failed "to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo the 
 heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and to break 
 every yoke." Moses also distinguished between the letter 
 and the spirit; for he urged the people to circumcise the 
 foreskin of the heart, as did Jeremiah in another age; and 
 the promises of God maintained in the nation a distinct 
 recognition of the superior glory of the latter. 
 
 Christianity was announced in language such as this: 
 "And it shall come to pass afterward that I will pour out 
 my spirit on all flesh; and your sons and your daughters 
 shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your 
 young men shall see visions;" "I will pour water upon 
 him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground; I will 
 pour my Spirit upon thy soul, and my blessing upon thine 
 offspring; " and that these predictions might be accom- 
 plished the Savior said: " It is expedient for you that I go 
 away, for if I go not away the Comforter will not come 
 unto you; but if I depart I will send Him unto you." 
 Peter, on the day of Pentecost, announced that this sacred 
 pledge had been fulfilled: " Therefore, being by the right 
 hand of God exalted, and having received of the Father 
 the promise of the Holy Ghost, He hath shed forth this, 
 which ye now see and hear;" and Paul, contrasting the 
 Jewish economy with the Christian, and having hi view 
 
THE LAW OF PROPORTIONS. 275 
 
 the comparative freedom of the latter from ritual, and its 
 completer possession of the Sanctifier, calls it " the minis- 
 tration of the Spirit." These representations from both 
 Testaments, combined with our Lord's solemn warnings 
 uttered on the Mount against formality, and Paul's de- 
 scription of it as a " form of godliness, denying the power 
 thereof," are enough to show that this is a tremendous 
 evil; one that is to be resisted, and one from whose influ- 
 ence the Almighty is seeking our deliverance. 
 
 Possibly we may be brought into closer sympathy with 
 the Divine mind on this subject by examining the true 
 relations of form to spirit, the limitations governing them, 
 and the reasons why they should be conscientiously recog- 
 nized and respected. 
 
 First, it seems evident that form should adequately 
 express, but never obscure, the spiritual. Just as too 
 many words hide the idea they are designed to convey, 
 and just as excess of light blinds the eyes it is ordained to 
 illuminate, so too numerous ceremonials darken the truth 
 which they are supposed to adumbrate. We know there 
 is a kind of choir music which fails to excite in the heart 
 emotions of praise, because it appeals overwhelmingly 
 to artistic appreciation. Were it less operatic it would 
 be more devotional in its influences. Congregational 
 singing has this to be said in its favor, that as all 
 share in it no one can easily lapse into the position of 
 critic; and however inharmonious and inmelodious it may 
 be, and unfortunately it is generally both, as it is the 
 effort of each individual to worship, it stimulates devout- 
 ness in spite of discord. As music may so charm the ear 
 that its religious value is measurably, if not totally, lost, 
 so elaborate rites challenge so powerfully the sense that 
 they fail to penetrate and influence the soul. Hence, it 
 has been observed that in proportion as ceremonial observ- 
 ances are multiplied spirituality declines. Of the truth of 
 
276 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 this position such countries as Spain, Italy, and Mexico, 
 long subject to the sway of a sacerdotal system, afford 
 abundant proof. With them, for many centuries, religion 
 has been so much a matter of form that they have lost 
 sight of its spiritual aspects, and in doing so have deterio- 
 rated in other respects. Victor Hugo, arraigning the 
 church of Rome on the charge of blighting the nations 
 where her superstitious observances have been most intol- 
 erantly enforced and most abjectly obeyed, points to the 
 two great Catholic centers, and says: "Look at the first 
 of these lands, Italy, the mother of genius and of nations, 
 which has spread over the world the most brilliant marvels 
 of poetry and art; Italy, which taught mankind to read, 
 knows not how to read. Gaze on Spain, which received 
 from the Romans her first civilization, from the Arabs her 
 second, and from Providence a world, — America! But 
 Rome has robbed her of the secret power which she had 
 from the Romans, the genius of art which she had from 
 the Arabs, and the world which she had from God." Do 
 you remind me that the Frenchman, in this invective, is 
 laying stress on the persecuting spirit of the Papacy? 
 Granted; but this very spirit is the outgrowth of ritual- 
 ism. Beneath its weight the sense of right and wrong, of 
 conscience and charity, was deadened, and in its j)lace 
 arose that haughty intolerance which, drenching itself in 
 blood, furnishes the best of reasons for restricting outward 
 observances to their God-appointed limits. 
 
 Among the Jews, as I have already intimated, types, 
 shadows, symbols, prevailed beyond what is authorized by 
 Christianity. This is to be accounted for by the fact that 
 Judaism was a preparative system. It was God's ordained 
 instrumentality for the introduction of certain fundamental 
 ideas into the world, for which there existed no adequate 
 verbal equivalents, and which had to be revealed through 
 visible institutions and picturesque enactments. The ideas 
 
SIGNIFICANCE OF SYMBOLS. 277 
 
 of "holiness," "atonement," "mediation," were thus im- 
 ported and fixed, and then the ceremonies which had per- 
 formed this service, like nuggets of gold, were melted and 
 coined into words, which retain the significance derived 
 from them to this day. When the end for which they had 
 been set apart was accomplished they were dispensed with 
 as henceforward unnecessary, and in their place came the 
 written gospel which is given to every man " to profit 
 withal." This corresponds to the truth, as the letter does 
 to the type, and the study of its teachings ministers to 
 holiness. Christianity also has a few expressive signs that 
 appeal to the senses, and through them to the heart. It 
 has symbolical rites, such as baptism and the Lord's sup- 
 per; and it has ethical and pietistical forms, such as alms- 
 giving, prayer and praise, which may properly be thus 
 characterized, as they have definite visibility. All of these 
 are so closely related to important religious truths that, 
 when properly honored, they become their vehicle and 
 their mirror. Thus praise and prayer suggest the ideas 
 of human dependence and of divine providence; alms- 
 giving, the surrender of self and its possessions to the 
 service of God and man; baptism, the resurrection of 
 Christ with all it imports, and the Supper, the twin mys- 
 teries of incarnation and atonement. But when these acts 
 are exaggerated, perverted or degraded, they obscure the 
 system which they were appointed to irradiate. When 
 baptism is administered to adult or child as a means of 
 salvation, how seriously is the grace of God narrowed and 
 impugned; when the Lord's Supper is given with a similar 
 end in view, how is the atonement of Christ caricatured 
 and darkened; or when almsgiving and other excellent 
 works are credited with so much merit that the Almighty 
 may become debtor to the creature, what a grievous mis- 
 representation of religion is imposed upon the world. 
 Under the circumstances the outward aspects of Chris- 
 
278 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 tianity become a curse; for generating errors, sanctioning 
 monstrous absurdities, and burdening the conscience, they 
 tend to alienate thoughtful men from its support and to 
 debase those who sustain its authority. These considera- 
 tions indicate the importance of proportioning aright the 
 symbol to the substance, and of sacredly conserving the 
 design of its institution. Only in this way can it be of 
 service to the truth, and as it is contrary to common sense 
 and Scripture to suppose that it might have been estab- 
 lished for any other reason, the obligation to restrict it to 
 its legitimate sphere and office is imperative. 
 
 Secondly, it seems equally clear that form should effect- 
 ively supplement, but never subordinate, the spiritual. 
 We know how the solemnities of public worship intensify 
 devotion, how acts of charity tend to deepen benevolence, 
 how verbal confessions strengthen faith, how ordinances 
 vivify belief, and how religious acts in general, undertaken 
 with genuine heartiness, contribute to growth in grace 
 and to advancement in the life divine. When the out- 
 ward thus waits upon the soul, ministering to its sanctifi- 
 cation, we feel that it is conforming to heaven's plan. 
 But when it rejects this lowly but useful mission, and in- 
 sists on its claims at the expense of the spiritual, it mani- 
 festly transgresses its prerogative. The Scriptures teach 
 that the spirit of the gospel is worth more than the letter; 
 that Christ Himself must henceforward be known " not 
 after the flesh, but after the spirit"; and that the inner 
 motive prompting a sacrifice is of greater value than the 
 measure of the sacrifice itself, as in the case of the widow 
 whose mite outweighed the treasury full of gifts which 
 pride donated from its superabundance. Moreover, the 
 Savior intimates that whenever the interests of the formal 
 and the spiritual come into collision the first must give 
 precedence to the second. Thus, for instance, when He 
 does good on the Sabbath day, His defense is not that the 
 
MAGNIFYING THE SPIRITUAL. 279 
 
 fourth commandment is abrogated, but that ritual is sec- 
 ondary in importance to philanthropy. " The Sabbath 
 was made for man, not man for the Sabbath." It was 
 appointed for his welfare and happiness; but if some regu- 
 lation regarding- the observance must under no circum- 
 stances be violated, — if the house that is on fire may not 
 be rescued on the Sabbath, nor the ship that is drifting 
 on the rocks be saved, — then the day ceases to be a boon 
 to humanity. Our Lord protested against this narrow in- 
 terpretation, as He would against that which could con- 
 demn David for eating the shewbread which was cere- 
 monially forbidden him. The hunger of the psalmist was 
 his justification in setting aside a merely ritualistic regu- 
 lation, and Jesus in sanctioning his conduct develops an 
 important principle. 
 
 The principle is, that the external aspect of Christian- 
 ity should be subordinated to the well-being of the soul. 
 Thus if the manner or method of worship is found to work 
 detrimentally, we may order it in such a way as to pro- 
 mote the end it is designed to secure. A failure to do 
 this, because our fathers cherished it, or because venerable 
 men arranged it, evinces a sentimentalism bordering on 
 superstition, which will parch and wither the religious life. 
 If we confront a positive ordinance, such as baptism, which 
 we have no right to change as we have the man-appointed 
 regulations of worship, it should be received only at a time 
 when the recipient is conscious that it will advance his 
 spirituality. For it to be thrust upon the unbeliever is to 
 exalt it unduly, and to invest it with a rank that does not 
 pertain to it. If one comes to the Lord's supper who has 
 not complied with all the orderly prerequisites, and who is 
 impelled by a hunger of soul to approach uninvited, the 
 church, while she does not approve his irregularity, yet, 
 lest a too rigid enforcement of the ritual may be inter- 
 preted adversely to her charity, and may in sonic way 
 
280 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 injuriously affect the applicant, is bound to remember that 
 David ate the shewbread, which was ceremonially unlaw- 
 ful for him to eat, and not inderdict the coming of one to 
 the Lord's table whose hunger is even deeper than his. 
 Were this principle generally recognized, and generally 
 accepted as a guiding rule, there would be more freedom 
 and more fervid delight in God's service everywhere, and 
 less danger of falling into listless, perfunctory and exact- 
 ing ceremonialism. It would deepen the impression that 
 soul preparation is more important than anything else, 
 and then care would be bestowed primarily on that, and 
 everything else being held subordinate, we should approx- 
 imate in all of our congregations to that worship which is 
 bounded neither by Jerusalem nor Gerizim, but which is 
 as broad as the Savior's love, and which, in its essence, is 
 spirit and truth, — "For God is a Spirit, and they that 
 worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth." 
 
 Thirdly. It also seems reasonable that form should 
 sufficiently adorn, but never supersede or supplant, the 
 spiritual. Within proper limits, especially those suggested 
 already, it is eminently fitting that we should invest both 
 the Christian church and Christian character with what- 
 ever may enhance their beauty. Works of righteousness 
 attractive in themselves may receive an added grace from 
 the manner in which they are wrought. These constitute 
 the ritual of individual daily life, and when they are per- 
 formed thoughtfully, gently, sweetly, they influence as 
 much by their loveliness as by their worth. There is 
 indeed a kind of moral worth in beauty, to which the con- 
 science instinctively renders homage. No man can afford 
 to be good uncouthly or carelessly. There are types of 
 piety that repel; some that are gunpowderish, sensitive 
 and explosive; others that are tomahawkish, sharp and 
 censorious, and yet others that are edgeless, indefinite and 
 colorless. These specimens, naturally enough, are disliked, 
 
THE BEAUTY OF HOLINESS. 281 
 
 and they are but a little in advance of that which, for 
 reasons satisfactory to itself, determines that its good 
 shall never be evil spoken of, by doing no good whatever 
 to call forth remark. As the individual is not to be indif- 
 ferent to the beautiful, so neither should the church. Her 
 house of worship may be as imposing and attractive as art 
 can make it, as long as the investment yields an adequate 
 profit in spiritual results, and the outlay can be afforded 
 by the congregation. The public offices of worship should 
 be rendered impressive and satisfactory to refined taste as 
 well as to devout impulses, provided always, as has already 
 been argued, that they do not obscure the essentials of 
 Christianity. No other rule upon this point can be laid 
 down. This simple restriction will jDrove sufficient to 
 guard against excess, and when it is respected, the beauty 
 of holiness will never jeopardize the integrity of holiness. 
 
 It is surely unnecessary to add that no perfection of 
 the form will be accepted by God as a substitute for the 
 reality. The one cannot supersede the other; and of the 
 two, the second is preferable and indispensable. If ye 
 fast to be seen of men, if ye pray to be praised of men, if 
 ye give to be honored by men, verily ye have your reward. 
 Ye seek human approval, and " he that soweth to the flesh 
 shall of the flesh reap"; were ye to purpose these things 
 in your heart, and perform them unto God, God would 
 not forget your self-denying labor of love. The service of 
 the lip and the empty sacrifice of the body the Almighty 
 does not regard. As in the days of Samuel, He judges 
 not by the countenance or stature, but by the heart, and 
 if other motive were wanting, this ought to be sufficient 
 to convince us that Formalism is a dreary, worthless piece 
 of theatricality, from which every genuine soul should 
 turn away with scorn and contempt. 
 
 Sometimes when near the sea I have been sadly im- 
 pressed with the dry, stunted, dwarfed and naked trees 
 
282 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 struggling to preserve their hold on life amid barren 
 wastes and in the chill, brackish air. On the island known 
 as Martha's Vineyard I have frequently wandered among 
 the thin, attenuated oaks, — meager shadows of their giant 
 brotherhood, — and have mourned the bitterness of their 
 heritage. Their wretched branches in one direction bent 
 seem to reveal a desire to break from their rootage and 
 escape the storm; while their ragged foliage, whitened by 
 the flying sand and the dust of pulverized shells, proclaims 
 that their enemy has prevailed against them, imparting to 
 them the visage of death, and shrouding them for the grave 
 before they have quite perished from the earth. Alas! for 
 the poor, miserable, tattered, discolored and faded "cum- 
 berers of the ground." Perhaps than themselves there 
 is nothing more pitiable in this pitiable world, unless it is 
 that which they appropriately figure, — a soulless, sapless, 
 shriveled church. Seeking to thrive in a worldly atmos- 
 phere, rooted in barren professions, bearing no fruit, and 
 maintaining only the semblance of existence, such a 
 church cannot long survive. It will soon wear the com- 
 plexion of death; speedily will its gorgeous ritual become 
 as the mummy's rags, and its beauty expire as the moth. 
 Over such a withered, emaciated, undersized representa- 
 tive of Christianity one could weep for very shame, and 
 pray for some good woodman's ax to smite the pigmy, or 
 some burst of Heaven's indignation to level it with the 
 earth. God grant that our unuttered prayer may be 
 answered, and that for every lifeless church destroyed, 
 one may spring up which shall be like the tree described 
 by Daniel, — "whose height reached unto the heaven, and 
 the sight thereof to all the earth; whose leaves were fair, 
 and the fruit thereof much, and in it was meat for all; 
 under which the beasts of the field dwelt, and upon whose 
 branches the fowls of heaven had their habitations." 
 
 Hegel assumes that, while "the artist makes for the 
 
THE SUPREME REQUIREMENT. 283 
 
 expression of his spiritual conceptions stones, colors and 
 sensuous forms," the idea is of paramount importance, 
 and must be in the mind, even though unconsciously, 
 before it can be presented for the contemplation of others. 
 In applying this principle to Greek art he shows "that 
 the human being elaborated his physical being in free, 
 beautiful movements before the attempt was made to give 
 them expression in marbles or paintings." The archetype 
 of all subsequent triumphs with chisel and brush origi- 
 nated in the development of the body, was naturally trans- 
 ferred to the mind, and from thence reproduced itself in 
 plastic stone. Such also is the sublime law of Christ's 
 kingdom. "Ye must be born again," is its primary and 
 supreme requirement. When the moral nature receives 
 the divine image through regeneration, then will it impart 
 the same to the otherwise lifeless material of public wor- 
 ship and of private duty. Then will it mold and fashion 
 the humblest ceremony into a heavenly likeness, and 
 breathe upon the simplest acts a heavenly grace. First, 
 the soul must be spiritual, then it will spiritualize every- 
 thing about it, and the ideal kingdom be realized. There- 
 fore I close this discussion with one appeal, one repre- 
 sentation, one distinct assertion, the echo of our Lord's 
 own words to Nicodemus, and which points the way, not 
 merely to personal peace and usefulness, but to the funda- 
 mental condition of spirituality, without which the church 
 is as a whitecl sepulcher and as a tinkling cymbal : — 
 "Ye must be born again." 
 
DEISTOMINATIONALISM. 
 
 " But now are they many members, yet but one body." 1 Gov. xii t 20. 
 
 " Here all the rage of controversy ends, 
 And rival zealots rest like bosom friends; 
 An Athanasian here in deep repose 
 Sleeps with the fiercest of his Arian foes; 
 ISocinians here with Calvinists abide, 
 And thin partitions angry chiefs divide ; 
 Here wily Jesuits, simple Quakers meet, 
 And Bellarmine has rest at Luther's feet. 
 Great authors, for the church's glory fired, 
 Are, for the church's peace, to rest retired ; 
 
 For most she fears the controversial pen, 
 The holy strife of disputatious men ; 
 Who the blest gospel's peaceful page explore, 
 Only to fight against its precepts more." 
 
 George Crabbe. 
 
 THERE is a widespread impression that the denomina- 
 tionalism of Christianity and the conflicts of doc- 
 trinal opinion within the limits of its different sects seri- 
 ously militate against its super-mundane origin and char- 
 acter. On this ground Lord Herbert attempted to justify 
 his Theism; and in the judgment of many did so with 
 remarkable force, if not with entire success. And Vol- 
 taire also, in his Dictionary, with shrewd skill and sar- 
 castic sharpness, wrote: "There is no sect in geometry, 
 mathematics or experimental philosophy. When truth is 
 evident it is impossible to divide people into parties and 
 factions. Nobody disputes that it is broad day at noon." 
 Both of these writers proceed on the assumption that 
 
 284 
 
SECTS IN SCIENCE. 285 
 
 moral questions should be dealt with as we deal with 
 numbers, triangles, polygons and circles, and that the 
 same kind of certainty is to be looked for in the one case 
 as in the other. But this is unreasonable. There is a 
 broad distinction in kind between these departments of 
 inquiry, which necessarily affects their methods and their 
 conclusions. Truth in the domain of morals and religion 
 is more open to debate than in the physical; for it relates 
 to profounder and more complicated issues; is, in the na- 
 ture of things, more difficult of proof, and comes into 
 collision with deeper prejudices and intenser antagonisms. 
 These differences being possible in the realm of spiritual 
 inquiry, they easily account for parties in the Christian 
 church without involving the implication of Voltaire that 
 they are contending about that which is radically false. 
 
 May it not also be said in answer to this objection that 
 the alleged harmony of experimental philosophers is more 
 fanciful than real ? There are sects in science as in re- 
 ligion, and they are just as uncompromising and as un- 
 charitable, and probably more so. Not to weary you with 
 illustrations of this statement, permit me to allude to one 
 which was related to me recently in the city of Berlin. 
 Huxley and Owen quarreled over the brain of the chim- 
 panzee. One of these eminent scientists contended that 
 the upper lobe extended over the lower, and the other 
 denied it. Friendship was broken in consequence of this 
 disagreement, and the rivals would not acknowledge each 
 other courteously. The war between them was stern and 
 pronounced, and even the discovery that both were correct 
 did not end hostilities. Although it was shown that what 
 one gentleman affirmed was true of the male chimpanzee, 
 but not of the female, and that what was affirmed by the 
 other was true of the female but not of the male, concord 
 would not return. They both continued to look askance 
 
286 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 and defiantly at each other, like the famous servants of 
 the implacable and irreconcilable Capulets and Montagues: 
 
 " Do you bite your thumb at me, sir ?" 
 
 " I bite my thumb." 
 
 And in the same spirit of sectarianism Professor Hux- 
 ley criticises M. Comte: "In so far as my study of what 
 specially characterizes the Positive Philosophy has led me, 
 I find therein little or nothing of any scientific value, and 
 a great deal which is thoroughly antagonistic to the very 
 essence of science as anything in Ultramontane Catholi- 
 cism. In fact, M. Comte's philosophy in practice might 
 be compendiously described as Catholicism minus Chris- 
 tianity." Ah! Could the dead philosopher revive again 
 most likely he would answer this stinging rebuke with 
 scathing sharpness, and entertain society with a new ver- 
 sion of the ancient feud: 
 
 " I serve as good a man as you." 
 
 "No better?" 
 
 " Yes, better, sir." 
 
 Alarmed by the damaging inference drawn from their 
 divisions, and half persuaded of its cogency, a large num- 
 ber of disciples insist on the immediate union of all de- 
 nominations. In their fright they make some singular 
 proposals, suggest the most astounding compromises, and 
 remarkable theories; and may very properly be called the 
 peace-at-any-price party. Some of them are willing that 
 present diiferences of opinion and belief should continue, 
 if by some happy device a solid front can only be present- 
 ed to the world. What they seem to desire is that an end 
 should be put to all discord, at least in appearance. 
 Hence they have invented evangelical alliances, great and 
 small ; union societies and union movements, big and 
 little; all valuable and desirable in their place, but without 
 as yet accomplishing anything very wonderful. Others of 
 this class are so intensely interested in this cause that they 
 
CHURCH UNION. 287 
 
 make the impression that conscientious scruples and moral 
 convictions ought to yield to its superior claims; and that 
 it would be better to narrow the circle of truth than con- 
 sent to perpetuate the evils of separation. From the 
 beginning of the Christian era there have always been 
 worshipers at the altars of uniformity; who have regarded 
 it as the easiest thing imaginable for all persons to square 
 thought and conduct to the requirements of a single stand- 
 ard. These ecclesiastical morphologists have not only 
 demanded that conduct should be conformed to the same 
 pattern, but that belief should be cast in the same mold. 
 They never, however, have succeeded in actualizing their 
 ideal. The decrees they fulminated, the persecutions they 
 employed, and the anathemas they invoked, came short of 
 their aim. Religious people would not think alike, would 
 not act alike, would not fetter the free life in them; but 
 persistently ran into all sorts of irregularity, singularity, 
 and nonconformity. In our time this zeal in behalf of 
 oneness has not abated; but recognizing the difficulty of 
 controlling thought, in some quarters it now pleads for 
 agreement in outward observances and ceremonies, what- 
 ever may be the individual belief. However motley, mul- 
 tifarious and heterogeneous faith may be, it is assumed that 
 practical submission to the same forms would impart to 
 the church that union which was contemplated by the 
 Savior, and which for so many reasons is desirable. This 
 is the present attitude of the Roman Catholic church and 
 of the Church of England. A great variety of opinions 
 arc tolerated within their communions on condition that 
 the ritual be faithfully maintained. But this spirit of 
 compromise is looked upon as deplorable by a more radical 
 class, who have not yet been convinced of the utter impos- 
 sibility of actualizing the other half of the old strict con- 
 formity theory. They do not understand how any person 
 can arrive at different conclusions, in reading the New 
 
288 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Testament, from their own. Diversity is inexplicable, ex- 
 traordinary, monstrous. They are ready to ascribe it to 
 eccentricity, aberration, or something worse; and, forget- 
 ting that they themselves are not in entire accord with the 
 theology of the past, they are ready, in the interests of 
 union, to cut off from their fellowship the members who 
 offend against what they regard as inspired truth. But 
 however these parties may dissent as to means and meas- 
 ures, they are all intent on the unification of the church in 
 some fashion, more or less complete. This, in their judg- 
 ment, is the supreme question of the hour, toward whose 
 solution they are struggling along somewhat confusedly 
 and blunderingly. 
 
 I am convinced that whatever of error is involved in 
 the views current on this subject is largely due to unac- 
 quaintance and unfamiliarity with the real law of unity as 
 it is revealed in nature and revelation, and to the failure 
 to recognize the degree and kind of diversity that is not 
 only compatible with it, but inseparable from it. 
 
 If we look upon the sky we find it at times overcast 
 with clouds, which assume the most varied and changing 
 shapes. Now they drift like fleecy snow across the ex- 
 panse of blue, then wander slowly up and down, like 
 flocks of sheep, seeking pasturage among the stars, and 
 shepherded by the gentle wind; or they are piled up on 
 the horizon's extremest verge, dark with storm and heavy 
 with tempests, resembling some huge citadel frowning on 
 the peaceful vale; or they are spread out beneath the 
 glory of the setting sun, from whose glittering planes 
 majestic forms arise, picturing to the eye the beauty and 
 harmony of the heavenly city, with its streets of gold, its 
 gates of pearl, and its walls of precious stones. Their 
 transitory and fleeting shapes, that now appeal to fear and 
 then to fancy, are but sculpturesque, though unsculptured, 
 figures of that one element that falls in the rain, gleams 
 
THE UNITY OF NATURE. 289 
 
 in the dew, and that sparkles in the ice-particle. Here we 
 meet with unity in diversity, a diversity that magnifies the 
 unity. Schiller, describing natural scenery, writes: 
 
 " Flowers of all hue are struggling into glow 
 Along the blooming fields ; yet their sweet strife 
 Melts into one harmonious concord " ; 
 
 and in his Philosophical Letters he adds: "Millions of 
 plants drink from the four elements of nature; a maga- 
 zine of supplies is open for all; but they mix their sap in 
 a thousand different ways, and return it in a thousand new 
 forms." We cannot, surely, have failed to think of this 
 ourselves, or to have overlooked the kindred but deeper 
 fact that the endless variations of root and leaf in each 
 particular plant are indispensable to the perfect fullness 
 and harmony of the flower. They all spring from unity, 
 and they tend to unity again. And what is true of earth's 
 floral beauty is true of earth itself. Mountains and val- 
 leys, deep, dark forests, wide, sweeping prairies, rocky 
 wildernesses and grassy glens, that break the monotony 
 of its surface, are all bound together in the fellowship of 
 matter. Of a common nature, they effect, through their 
 diversity, a common good. As the mutability of clouds 
 is needful to shield the tender crops from heat, and to be- 
 dew them with refreshing moisture, so the irregularities 
 of the earth are inseparable from its habitableness. Were 
 it not for these, human beings could not exist upon its 
 bosom, and progress in arts and sciences would be impos- 
 sible. Believe me, there is not a mountain range too 
 many, nor too long or lofty, not a vale too wide or deep, 
 not a superfluous stream or ocean, nor a single region 
 whose essential character can be changed with entire im- 
 punity. So nicely ordered, balanced, measured, are these 
 diversities that on their preservation rests the welfare of 
 the whole. Man, the tenant of this wondrous house, is 
 19 
 
290 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 himself the most notable illustration of this principle. 
 How like, and yet unlike, are the teeming millions that 
 make up the race. No two are identical in body or in 
 soul. They are all similar, yet dissimilar; they are' one- 
 ness in manifoldness. They possess in common the same 
 nature, faculties and organs, but in degree, quality and 
 aptitude how endlessly diverse ! And who can doubt but 
 that this very lack of uniformity has proven the most po- 
 tent factor in the world's advancement. It has given us 
 our specialists, our statesmen, poets, soldiers, inventors; it 
 has exalted our civilization by multiplying its departments ; 
 it has lessened the evils of life by distributing its burdens; 
 it has unified races and nations by demonstrating their 
 independence, and it has stimulated and elevated the indi- 
 vidual by bringing him face to face with the competition 
 of the many. 
 
 "See how the iron powers of thoughtful skill 
 Are shaped and quickened by the fire of strife." 
 
 Scientists are now calling attention to the growing 
 diversity that may be traced throughout the universe. 
 The sidereal system, with its spiral and spherical nebula?, 
 with its clusters of stars, ranging from two to several thou- 
 sand in number, they claim has increased in heterogeneity 
 during the long time spaces that have elapsed since the 
 creation. The same fact is urged of the earth in its prog- 
 ress from original chaos. Fossil remains are said to prove 
 that "the more heterogeneous organisms, and groups of 
 organisms, have been evolved from the more homogene- 
 ous." Also, in the history of the arts the law of diversity 
 is recognized and pointed out by these writers. But per- 
 haps the most striking illustration of the principle involved 
 is furnished by what Grove and Spencer call the '(Corre- 
 lation of Physical Forces." It is now believed that heat, 
 electricity, chemical force, and every other kind of force, 
 
SPIRITUAL CORRELATION. 291 
 
 have reciprocal affection and dependence, and that any- 
 one of them may be convertible into any of the others. 
 Thus, for instance, heat produces electricity under certain 
 conditions, and electricity produces heat, and either of 
 them or both may be the cause of motion. These ele- 
 ments or energies, therefore, are but forms of some one 
 supreme force, — differentiations, modifications, and trans- 
 mutations of some ultimate subtle energy. That — what- 
 ever it is — tends to diversity of manifestation and of 
 operation, and thus falls in with what appears to be the 
 method of universal progress. For it is to be observed 
 that these changes from the simple to the complex, from 
 the homogeneous to the heterogeneous, result in greater 
 definiteness and distinctness of structure and of organism, 
 and in greater perfectness of form and function. Every- 
 where the law of diversity is seen to be elaborating a more 
 complete and glorious order of things; as Mr. Spencer 
 says, "is the deepest knowable cause of those modifica- 
 tions which constitute physiological development, as it is 
 the deepest knowable cause of all other evolutions," and 
 is not, therefore, to be lightly esteemed, deprecated or 
 deplored. 
 
 Is there not something analogous to this in the domain 
 of the spiritual ? I believe that there is. As I read the 
 New Testament I find that there is a sense in which all 
 Christians are really one. Superficially and outwardly 
 they may be separated, but essentially and spiritually they 
 are united. This is our Savior's doctrine. He represents 
 His disciples as partaking of the same life, as being mem- 
 bers of the same kingdom, and as engaged in the same 
 work. In the parables of the vine and the mustard seed 
 they are set forth as being vitalized and sustained by the 
 same life-current, and as bearing fruit from the same 
 source. They are one flock, having one shepherd; and 
 they are one family, having one Father. If our Lord 
 
292 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 prayed for their unification, we are not to conclude that 
 He meant to teach that they are naturally and necessarily 
 separated from each other like the sands of the sea; but 
 that its degree might be intensified until they should come 
 to share with each other and with Christ in that mysteri- 
 ous fellowship which blends His personality with that of 
 the Father. As there is growth in grace, so is there 
 growth in union; and as the first is only possible when 
 grace already exists, so the second is only attainable when 
 the disciples are bound together in Christ by deep, spirit- 
 ual ties. And just in proportion as it approaches the ideal 
 will it be manifest to the world; not by some dull uni- 
 formity, but by the fuller revelation of that which is its 
 cause. All concede that its source is Christ; it is a union 
 in Christ; and as it draws nearer to perfection the Christ- 
 life will be more apparent. His spirit, His purity, the 
 beauties of His character, will become more conspicuous 
 in His followers, and will draw to them the attention and 
 approval of the world. Without referring to the apostles 
 for the confirmation of this view T , we may conclude that it 
 is worthy our support, and should be recognized as funda- 
 mental to a just conception of Christian union. Whatever 
 differences of doctrine or practice may seem to wall de- 
 nominations from each other, they are fellow-disciples, 
 brethren and sisters in the Lord, resting in a common 
 Savior, rejoicing in a common hope. They may have fallen 
 into errors of faith, they may have drifted into errors of 
 government, they may have adopted singular ceremonials, 
 and even more singular customs, but if they breathe the 
 spirit of Christ in their words and deeds they are equally 
 His, and equally members of His body. This is being 
 realized to-day, perhaps more distinctly than in the past, 
 and hence, though the number of sects may not have dimin- 
 ish ed, sectarianism has perceptibly declined. 
 
 This unity in the Savior does not prevent diversity, 
 
THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH. 293 
 
 and the diversity is not destructive of the unity. This 
 seems to be clearly taught in the sacred writings. Such 
 figures as the vine and mustard-tree, which are employed 
 to illustrate it, imply variety; for we know that no two 
 leaves are perfectly alike. Marked differences separate 
 the apostles, not only in character but in their way of 
 looking at the truth. While their teachings are essen- 
 tially the same, they are distinguishable by a Jewish or 
 a philosophical cast of thought. In the twelfth chap- 
 ter of second Corinthians we have presented an elabo- 
 rate account of the diversities that were found in the 
 primitive church. Gifts, administrations or governments, 
 operations and methods, were not alike. They were dis- 
 similar. Some members had the word of wisdom, others 
 the word of knowledge, others divers kinds of tongues, 
 and others yet the interpretation of tongues. But over 
 all and through them all wrought the self-same Spirit. 
 Now, admitting that many of these particular distinctions 
 were peculiar to the apostolic age, and conceding that in 
 Revelation we have an outline of everything to be be- 
 lieved or done to secure even the most complete outward 
 agreement among disciples, are we not taught by this 
 chapter that diversities are not destructive of essential 
 unity; that their continuance in some form is always not 
 only possible but probable, and that as they were in the 
 Corinthian church overruled for good, so in all after-times 
 they would be made subservient to the well-being of 
 Christ's kingdom ? This, at least, is the inference I draw 
 from the chapter. 
 
 As the genius and other mental and spiritual qualities 
 of the apostles colored their presentation of truth, it is not 
 unnatural to suppose that similar qualities would influence 
 those who interpret it, in subsequent periods. And as 
 disciples were gifted by the Spirit, doubtless in harmony 
 with their natural endowments, to fulfill certain offices and 
 
294 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ministries, and as there was evidently a disposition to 
 magnify their special work at the expense of that which 
 was beino* wrought by their brethren, how reasonable to 
 expect that in the future similar preferences would be 
 shown, and that out of them denominations would even 
 develop. This is just what has taken place. Different 
 interpretations, various views of doctrine or of church 
 government, combined with predilections for this or that 
 mode of doing Christian work, have resulted in the forma- 
 tion of religious bodies. As the vital principle in nature 
 takes to itself varied but appropriate forms, and as the 
 primary force asserts itself as magnetism, heat or electri- 
 city, so the spirit of grace, which permeates the entire 
 company of the saved, being modified by their personality, 
 reveals itself in various creeds and various organizations. 
 Unity is no more sacrificed in the one case than in the 
 other; and more than this, as we have seen that diversity 
 in the physical ministers to the highest good of the uni- 
 verse, to its progress as well as to its stability, we are 
 warranted in believing that diversity in the spiritual pro- 
 motes its development, its advancement and its triumph. 
 
 We generally assume, when the subject is under con- 
 sideration, that Christianity would have accomplished more 
 for the world than it has if it had remained a stranger to 
 disruptions and discords. This is the prevailing opinion. 
 It is repeated without any sort of misgiving on all occa- 
 sions where the limited triumphs of the Cross form the 
 theme of conversation or discussion. But it is very ques- 
 tionable whether, in the sense usually intended, the posi- 
 tion is sound and trustworthy. Of course there must be 
 some explanation of the failure to fulfill the fair promise 
 which the new religion gave at the beginning of its his- 
 tory, and for want of a better it is not unnatural that it 
 should besought in the rise and perpetuity of variances 
 and factions. Undoubtedly little can ever be effected in 
 
VALUE OF DIVERSITY. 295 
 
 the spirit of sectarianism, or alienation; and so far as the 
 inner and vital union between God's people has come short 
 of the beautiful ideal, every agency for good has been 
 weakened and impeded. This may be conceded, and yet 
 what we mean by denominationalism not be responsible 
 for the comparatively unsuccessful endeavors of the church. 
 Whether she would have succeeded better had uniformity 
 distinguished her is, in my judgment, open to debate; and 
 whether she would have exerted a greater power if mo- 
 notony had been the rule is not altogether clear and cer- 
 tain. I think as much can be said on one side as the 
 other, and at least enough to occasion hesitancy in sub- 
 scribing unreservedly to the common view. A Moslem 
 proverb has it, " The leaves of God's book are the religious 
 persuasions"; and I am not convinced that the variety of 
 readings, practically as unimportant as the multiplied dif- 
 ferences between the several versions of the Scriptures, 
 have proved in the least detrimental to the establishment 
 and progress of Christianity. Standing by the Falls of 
 Niagara, the spectator must be impressed with the fact 
 that the rapid sweep and concentrated solidity of the 
 waters do not prevent them from breaking into eddies and 
 currents and separate streams. Rolling impetuously on- 
 ward they are divided by rocky beds rising in their course, 
 by inequalities in the channel, and by huge boulders that 
 seem to have been placed in their path to torment them 
 and to excite their wrath. And yet these impediments, 
 around which they swirl and at which they growl with 
 foamy lips, only intensify their strength and add momen- 
 tum to their fury, so that when they leap restrainless from 
 the giddy height they carry everything before them, and 
 slowly, but surely, grind the rocks on which they beat to 
 powder. Eugene Thayer tells us that in listening to the 
 mighty voice of these floods he detected in 'its awful roar 
 the various tones of a great organ and the sweet harmony 
 
296 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 of mysterious sounds. Souls in whom the richness of 
 melody dwells not may never recognize in the beat of the 
 waters anything like music, only crash and discord and the 
 reverberations of stridulous monotone, but music dwells 
 there nevertheless. And music dwells in Christianity. 
 Beneath the chatter, clatter and prattle, and lying deep 
 below the noisy loquaciousness of wrangling sects, the 
 psalmody of redeeming love may be heard by those who 
 have "ears to hear," and the different parts of the song 
 of grace, in divinest unison blending, making glad the city 
 of our God on earth, as it shall at last make glad the new- 
 Jerusalem in heaven. As it moves forward with outward 
 clash and discord, but with inner harmonies, like Niagara, 
 our religion, divided into many streams and by dissensions 
 rent, has still been one, and has seemed to gather power 
 and velocity from its schisms, so that it has swept before 
 it hoary superstitions and given the assurance that every 
 form of evil on which it falls shall at last be ground to 
 powder. 
 
 Denominational distinctions have not been without ad- 
 vantages to the cause of truth. This has been noted by 
 the poet Schiller. In one of his letters he says: "All tor- 
 tuous deviations of the wanderino- reason at length strike 
 into the straight road of everlasting truth; all diverging 
 arms and currents ultimately meet in the main stream." 
 Experience has abundantly verified this position. Theo- 
 logical dissent necessitates and facilitates investigation; it 
 sets independent seekers to work, and insures an increase 
 of light on the question in dispute. The advocate on 
 either side, zealous in behalf of his view, abundant in la- 
 bors to demonstrate its correctness, and unsparing in his 
 criticism of opposing views, prepares the way for an en- 
 lightened judgment, By this process error is eliminated, 
 and truth is not only discovered, but is vindicated as well. 
 This result has been brought about by denominational an- 
 
DIVERSITY IN CHURCHES. 297 
 
 tagonisms. Watching each other, jealous of each other, 
 anxious to justify their own existence, they have un- 
 weariedly labored and brought together such a mass of in- 
 formation that it is now comparatively easy to decide what 
 was really taught by Christ and His apostles. Mutually 
 they have contributed to make clear the real doctrines 
 of the Scriptures, and in so doing their divergences have 
 proven eminently advantageous. And it is to be further 
 observed that they have actually tended to bring the war- 
 ring churches closer together, as it were, in spite of them- 
 selves. The search has shown that they are not as wide 
 apart as they supposed, that they are more in harmony 
 than they suspected, and that what they had once re- 
 garded as fatally erroneous is, after all, not irreconcilable 
 with truth. They have also demonstrated that God's 
 Word has nothing to fear from investigation; that the 
 path of safety lies in the utmost freedom of thought and 
 of inquiry; and that, while at times this liberty may lead 
 to mistakes, it must at last end in some fresh and some 
 more definite conception of the teachings of Revelation. 
 
 Diversity has also ministered to Christian efficiency. 
 Were the members of a single church alike, how narrowed 
 would its sphere of usefulness become. If they were all 
 gifted with executive abilities, and were destitute of devo- 
 tional qualities, how little they would accomplish apart 
 from governing. If they were enriched in knowledge, 
 but poor in sympathy and charity, how pedantic and un- 
 interesting they would be. If zeal was not checked by 
 wisdom, and activity by meditation, into what extremes 
 they -would run. In every church there is needed faith, 
 the gifts of healing, of prophecy, and of tongues. Not 
 one alone, but all. "If the whole body were an eye, 
 where were the hearing ? If the whole were hearing, 
 where were the smelling?" And if the whole were talk- 
 ing, — as is frequently the case, — where were the doing ? 
 
298 ISMS OLD AND FEW". 
 
 The fact that we meet with these diversities is one cause 
 of the success which attends the labors of Christ's people. 
 The aggressiveness of one rebukes the sluggishness of 
 others; enthusiasm startles apathy, earnestness rouses in- 
 difference; while, on the other hand, conservatism restrains 
 radicalism, gentleness tempers impetuosity, and common 
 sense curbs the impatience of fiery zeal. And in a similar 
 way the various denominations act and react upon each 
 other. Their existence is the occasion for generous rival- 
 ries and noble emulations. If one is more enterprising 
 than the rest, its example cannot be lost; if it is more 
 liberal and spiritual, others will feel the power of its influ- 
 ence. I confess, unless Christian human nature were to 
 undergo a radical change, I should look with g-rave solici- 
 tude on the dawning of undenominationalism. Were we 
 all one body we should lose the tremendous stimulation 
 that comes from the present arrangement, and I fear that 
 our uniformity would become the uniformity of death and 
 the tomb. Let us not then decry or undervalue the good 
 that accrues to the cause of Christ from what many con- 
 sider an unmitigated evil. 
 
 Nor should we hide from ourselves the fact that these 
 diversities seem to facilitate the work of the churches 
 in drawing men to the Savior. There are marked 
 varieties on the outside that demand those on the inside. 
 Many persons can be influenced by Methodism who 
 would never be reached by Presbyterianism, and there 
 are some who will cheerfully attend to preaching from 
 an undenominational pulpit who would refuse to hear 
 the message from a denominational one. A supremely 
 intellectual ministry, a ministry of light, proves effective 
 in some cases, while in others a spiritually magnetic or 
 electrical ministry is alone successful, and yet in others a 
 correlation of these forces is indispensable. They all have 
 their value, and the world as at present constituted would 
 
THE LOVING MONK. 299 
 
 be infinitely poorer, and immeasurably more helpless, for 
 the destruction of any one of them. 
 
 From these thoughts you will infer that I do not attach 
 much importance to uniformity. Certainly I am not dis- 
 posed to idolize it. I am not clear that it is at all desira- 
 ble, and I am sure that it would not be at the cost of 
 mental liberty. As I view the case, the last thing to be 
 attempted is an artificial and constrained union of church- 
 es. Instead of talking a great deal about it, and pro- 
 posing impossible schemes for its realization, we had bet- 
 ter simply study to be right in faith and practice, and 
 leave to God and to His providence the ultimate solution 
 of the problem. He knows what is best for His people 
 and the world, and He will doubtless, in His own way and 
 time, bring about whatever of structural union is neces- 
 sary for the final triumph of His kingdom. In the mean- 
 while let the heart be kept clear of bitterness and discord, 
 and let the hand place no stumbling-block in a brother's 
 way because his creed in some of its articles is different. 
 Let good feeling and true fellowship be cultivated, and we 
 shall then not be unprepared and unfitted to cooperate 
 with God, who is, I am persuaded, working out by these 
 diversities a grander and sublimer union in the spiritual 
 than He has already effected, and by similar processes, in 
 the physical. 
 
 Somewhere I have read of two monks who had never 
 quarreled or disagreed, but had lived for years in sweetest 
 amity and peace. At last one suggested that they should 
 have a falling out after the pattern of the world. But the 
 other replied that he knew not how to quarrel, and that 
 he did not understand how to perform his part. "Well," 
 said the first monk, "we will put this brick between us, 
 and you shall say, 'It is mine,' and I will say, 'It is mine,' 
 and so we will gradually grow heated contending." With 
 smiling faces the simple-hearted brethren prepared to 
 
300 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 enter the arena of debate. "It is mine," said the first, 
 sternly; " It is mine," said the second, falteringly; "Yea, 
 again I declare it is mine," responded the first, solemnly; 
 "Thai take it" lovingly answered the second. Brethren, 
 I do not say that this spirit is always possible; but some- 
 thing kindred to it is what God expects. It is not for 
 Christian denominations to wrangle and contend, each 
 madly alive to its own little interests, and careless of the 
 interests of the others. "Mine and thine" should lose 
 their significance with them, and they should be ready 
 with loving accord to yield to each other, and to bear each 
 other's burdens. We shall never recognize what is grand 
 and good in our neighbors, and we shall be blind to their 
 claims on our fellowship, if we fail to cultivate this spirit 
 of gentle amity. Ruskin shows very eloquently the sad 
 effects of anarchy and competition in a piece of common 
 mud. The elements which compose it "are at helpless 
 war with each other, and destroy reciprocally each other's 
 nature and power; competing and fighting for place at 
 every tread of your foot; sand squeezing out clay, and clay 
 squeezing out water, and soot meddling everywhere, and 
 defiling the whole." Such, also, is the dreary outcome of 
 sectarian jealousies, rivalries and contentions. They pre- 
 sent the members of the warring, fermenting sects in the 
 most unlovely of lights; they are offensive to each other, 
 and their touch is regarded as somewhat contaminating. 
 Ruskin proceeds to describe the glorious results that 
 would follow if his piece of humble mud were left for suf- 
 ficient time in perfect rest. Beginning with the clay in 
 the compound, he traces its progress to the consistency of 
 finest porcelain, and then upward until it becomes clear, 
 white and hard, and gathering to its heart "the loveliest 
 rays only," it is known to us as a sapphire. He then takes 
 the sand, and assuming a "similar permission of quiet," 
 he shows how it attains "the power of reflecting, not 
 
GRACES OF THE SPIRIT. 301 
 
 merely the blue rays, but the blue, green, purple and red 
 rays, in the greatest beauty in which they can be seen 
 through any hard material whatsoever. We call it then 
 an opal." Next the soot is taken in hand, and its efforts 
 to become a diamond vividly depicted; for even this 
 worthless element can "exchange its blackness for the 
 power of reflecting all the rays of the sun at once." 
 "Last of all, the water purifies, or unites itself; contented 
 enough if it only reach the form of a dewdrop; but if we 
 insist on its proceeding to a more perfect consistence, it 
 crystallizes into the shape of a star." And in like man- 
 ner, if the various sects will only fully cease from criti- 
 cism, sarcasm, and railings at each other's expense, and 
 will strangle their dull-eyed bigotry and smother their 
 stupid self-esteem, and if they will seek peace and follow 
 "brotherly love," they will furnish the condition needed 
 for each to develop its peculiar " fruit of the Spirit," and 
 its individual perfections. Then it will be seen that there 
 is "faith" in the Catholic, to remind us of the precious 
 and highly painted porcelain; "gentleness" in the Epis- 
 copal, to remind us of the rare and softly gleaming sap- 
 phire; "knowledge" in Presbyterians, and "diligence" in 
 Methodists, to remind us of the beautiful and many-hued 
 opal; "charity" in the Unitarian, to remind us of the 
 pure and lustrous diamond; and " longsuffering " in the 
 Baptist, to remind us of the fresh and pearly water, sym- 
 bol of bitter but wholesome tears of sorrow, which hope 
 transforms into the never-fading stars of "joy." The 
 Master of the treasure-house will not despise any of these 
 jewels, but will find a place for each one in His radiant 
 crown; and if so, we should remove every obstacle from 
 the way of their flashing from His footstool; and the more 
 we realize their worthiness to shine, the more fully will we 
 blend our rays together, and when this consummation shall 
 be reached, then will the greatest obstacle be removed 
 
302 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 from the way of final unification; and then, though diver- 
 sities may still exist in doctrine and practice, the world 
 will no longer be able to say with scornful lips: " See how 
 these Christians love each other." 
 
 It would be well for the unconverted, before they 
 articulate this sneer, to consider how much of the present 
 diversity is permitted in condescension to their own weak- 
 ness and waywardness. The manifoldness of sin, as I have 
 already intimated, cries out for manifoldness in religion, 
 and the differences that reign in the natural most likely 
 can only be met by differences in the supernatural. If 
 God allows us to remain Methodist, Baptist or Episcopa- 
 lian, it may be on your account, that you may be without 
 excuse; that every type of man may be confronted with a 
 corresponding type of doctrine and of methods Instead 
 of these varieties lessening your responsibility, they 
 rather heighten it, and instead of extenuating your indif- 
 ference, they only condemn it. Surely somewhere you 
 can find a faith and a church to suit you; surely there are 
 means adapted to your state, and ministries fitted to your 
 peculiar temperament. Think of this, remember this, and 
 instead of jeering at what is tolerated for your good, ear- 
 nestly seek those aids which a merciful God will bless to 
 your soul's salvation. 
 
 " Thro' all life's thousand-fold entangled maze, 
 One Godlike bourne your gifted sight surveys, — 
 Thro' countless means one solemn end, foreshown, 
 The labyrinth closes at a single throne." 
 
MAMMONISM. 
 
 "Ye cannot serve God and mammon." — Matthew m, 24. 
 
 "Gold! gold! gold! gold! 
 Bright and yellow, hard and cold, 
 Molten, graven, hammered and rolled ; 
 Heavy to get, and light to hold ; 
 Hoarded, bartered, bought and sold ; 
 Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled : 
 Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old 
 To the very verge of the church-yard mold ; 
 Price of many a crime untold, — 
 Gold! gold! gold! gold!" Hood. 
 
 THERE is a picture by Wertz in an art collection at 
 Brussels which must profoundly impress the thought- 
 ful student of our times. It represents one of those un- 
 fortunate French women who played so prominent a part 
 in the tragedy of the Paris Commune, with her back to a 
 wall and her hands tied before her, flashing scorn and 
 contempt from eyes glistening beneath thick shadows of 
 raven hair partly fallen over the face, and a squad of Ver- 
 sailles soldiers, who are mechanically preparing for her 
 summary execution. The story is easily understood, and 
 hardly needs an interpreter. Sympathizing with the ene- 
 mies of Thiers' new republic, the poor creature has been 
 taken in the act of firing some public building, or in fill- 
 ing her dead husband's place at the barricades, and must 
 meet the consequences at the mouth of a score of muskets. 
 There she stands, life-like, on the canvas, pale but defiant, 
 and there the uniformed assassins with their guns leveled 
 at her defenseless breast. So painfully realistic is the 
 
304 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 composition that the beholder expects to hear the sharp 
 word of command from the officer, the swift-answering 
 report of the death-dealing weapons, the half-suppressed 
 cry of the wretched prisoner, and to see the flashing fire, 
 the blinding smoke, and then the unsightly heap of bleed- 
 ing clay. Instinctively he holds his breath, shuts his eyes, 
 and turns away. 
 
 But he cannot exclude from his mind the terrible scene, 
 or escape the somber reflections to which it gives rise. 
 These will continue to haunt him for some time, and may 
 not be altogether unprofitable. Realizing that the picture 
 represents a passage in the history of this enlightened 
 century, he will most likely regard it as illustrating to 
 some degree its spirit. Possibly he will find himself pro- 
 pounding curious questions and arriving at very unsatis- 
 factory conclusions. Here, in a civilized nation, — perhaps 
 the most highly civilized in the world, — the people aban- 
 don themselves to wholesale butchering, and with the 
 torch of the vandal destroy their grandest edifices and 
 slaughter their prisoners and hostages like beasts. Refine- 
 ment, education, the finer feelings, indeed everything that 
 makes them Frenchmen, are powerless to restrain their 
 passions when excited by the frenzy of revolution. Natu- 
 rally the query arises, Were these men and women, who act 
 like human devils, ever really civilized ? Were they ever in 
 advance of the furious Huns ? and wherein do they really 
 differ from their savage ancestry? Outwardly, in dress, 
 in houses, in pursuits, and customs, they are manifestly far 
 removed from their uncouth sires, but in heart the dis- 
 tance between them does not seem very marked. Of Alaric 
 it is written that, when he sat down with his army before 
 the gates of Rome, he promised to leave its citizens their 
 lives, if nothing else. M. Thiers was not as humane as 
 Alaric; he made no promise, or, if he did, he certainly 
 failed to keep it. In what particular, then, was Thiers 
 
MODERN CIVILIZATION. 305 
 
 more fully civilized than Alaric? The Cimbrian women 
 acted as priestesses in a barbarous age, and delighted to 
 cut the throat of prisoners taken in war, draining the 
 blood of their victims into brass vessels and offering it to 
 their deities. But in what particular were these women 
 worse than their Parisian sisters ? Was life less sacred to 
 the one class than to the other? or were the dignity and 
 gentleness of their sex properly appreciated and exhibited 
 by either? 
 
 Let us not, however, suppose that such questions are 
 suggested exclusively by the atrocities of the Commune 
 and its antagonists, for in every nation, and equally in our 
 own, there are many things which prompt them. Much is 
 being written and said in praise of our era. Poets, orators 
 and editors never grow weary extolling its achievements 
 and triumphs, its material and social advancement, and 
 its educational and philanthropical enterprises. Windy 
 speeches, double-leaded editorials, eagle-soaring verses, 
 set forth with doubtful modesty the superiority of this 
 century over its less fortunate predecessors. There never 
 was such a century before, — possibly never will be again, 
 — never such enlightenment enjoyed, such liberty at- 
 tained, such prosperity realized, and such elevation 
 achieved. And yet, without controverting these extrava- 
 gant representations sharply, there are uneasy suspicions 
 abroad that modern progress is not just what it ought to 
 be. While we travel faster, fly higher, plow deeper, see 
 clearer, grow richer, communicate easier, and in general 
 thrive more than our forefathers, nevertheless there is a 
 skeleton in our social structure having the huge propor- 
 tions of Leviathan. Civilization unquestionably excels in 
 various repects, and, perhaps, as a whole, every former 
 effort in the same direction, and yet it seems far from 
 deserving the unqualified encomiums which are lavished 
 on it so unstintedly. I have no desire to detract from it, 
 20 
 
306 ISMS OLD ASD NEW. 
 
 but at the same time praise should not outstrip merit or 
 congratulations overstep the boundary of justice. Words- 
 worth starts a very serious and important doubt in the fol- 
 lowing expressive lines: 
 
 " Man now presides 
 In power where once lie trembled in his weakness; 
 Science advances with gigantic strides, 
 But are we aught enriched in love and meekness? 
 Aught dost thou see, bright star ! of pure and wise 
 More than in humbler times graced human story; 
 That makes our hearts more apt to sympathize 
 With heaven, our souls more fit for future glory, 
 When earth shall vanish from our closing eyes, 
 And we lie down in our last dormitory? " 
 
 That is, in other words, are we as highly civilized as we 
 think we are ? Has morality kept pace with material prog- 
 ress ? Has the elevation of humanity been proportionate 
 to the development of physical resources? Has the race, 
 under the most favorable circumstances, been entirely 
 purged of its old barbarities and savage tendencies? Are 
 we really what we seem, or are we at best but the prophe- 
 cy and promise of what we ought to be and shall be. 
 
 I am afraid these questions are not susceptible to the 
 answer our vanity would dictate. But if there is truth in 
 the saying of Edmund Burke, that "adulation is not of 
 more service to people than to kings," then it is much 
 wiser to look at the facts as they are, however humiliating, 
 than to be deceived by fancies. These facts point to the 
 mortifying conclusion that the history of the Paris Com- 
 mune is a too faithful portraiture of the age in which we 
 live; an outbreak of its spirit, a revelation of its inner- 
 most heart. As we meditate on its terrible record, its in- 
 sane cruelty, and the bloodshed of which it was the occa- 
 sion, and remember the pretensions of the French capital, 
 we cannot avoid the apprehension that under similar cir- 
 cumstances the horrors of its brief career might be repeat- 
 
REFINED CANNIBALISM. 307 
 
 ed among other peoples, if they are not being enacted in 
 ways not less striking and appalling, though not one whit 
 less shocking, every day and in almost every city. 
 
 That this is the case, — that to an alarming extent op- 
 pression overrides justice, and wrong overreaches right, 
 that our wonderful civilization is yet cursed by the cruel 
 and degraded spirit of ancient savagery, — a brief induc- 
 tion of facts I think will fully establish. 
 
 It seems to be proven by what remains among us of 
 the man-eating propensities which have disgraced many 
 tribes and nations. Cannibalism does not flourish, of 
 course, in its old form, but it would be premature to affirm 
 that the sanguinary Mexican has no successor, and the 
 ferocious Fijian no imitator. Some wild races have de- 
 voured their enemies, that they might in this way appro- 
 priate to themselves the special qualities for which they 
 were distinguished. Thus, for example, — according to 
 Herbert Spencer, whose Synthetic Philosophy has fur- 
 nished me much lively information regarding the habi- 
 tudes of primitive races, — the Dakota used to eat the 
 heart of a fallen antagonist to increase his own courage, 
 and a New Zealander would swallow the eyes of a slain foe 
 that he might see the farther. These interesting practices 
 are not altogether unknown to this civilized age of ours. 
 Not as grossly, it is true, but quite as really, men prey 
 upon each other, and strive to make good their deficien- 
 cies at each other's expense. When a cunning manipulator 
 of stocks, by "ways that are dark and tricks that are not 
 vain," appropriates to himself the money of his less wily 
 and astute fellow-citizens, he is assuredly following in the 
 footsteps of the Dakota and New Zealander. They simply 
 rob their victims of eyes and heart, but the conscienceless 
 speculator plunders even his friends, for his own advan- 
 tage, of that which is sight to their age and as strength 
 to their helplessness. Moreover, large classes of work- 
 
308 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 people suffer a silent martyrdom, and are annually sacri- 
 ficed by the thousands to sustain useless pomp and idle 
 extravagance. 
 
 " Beneath the sun 
 
 The many still must lahor for the one: 
 
 'Tis nature's doom." 
 
 So says the poet; but I am inclined to the opinion that 
 man has more to do with this arrangement than nature. 
 Not satisfied with his own share of this world and a trifle 
 over, he clutches at the share of others. Availing himself 
 of the necessities which poverty, disease and failures have 
 created, he burdens his dependents with excessive toil, 
 prates pathetically about political economy, and piously of 
 "nature," too, and continues to underpay them. Steadily 
 they sink into more abject pauperism, until they shiver in 
 the ghost of a garment and for shelter are forced to herd 
 together, where decency, much less dignity, is hardly pos- 
 sible. Are not such unhappy creatures devoured by our 
 civilized cannibals? 
 
 Take as an illustration of the wrongs of labor some 
 facts gleaned from an intelligent article in The Examiner 
 and Chronicle, published in New York, concerning the 
 working girls of that city. Doubtless they can be dupli- 
 cated in every other great center of population. These girls 
 are represented as earning the "munificent sum of thirty- 
 five cents" for making the best and heaviest of overcoats ; 
 twenty-eight cents for handsome spring overcoats; six to 
 ten cents a pair for pants; seventy-five cents a dozen for 
 calico wrappers, and about a dollar and a half for complete 
 suits for ladies. " Cash girls get from seventy-five cents to 
 a dollar and a half per week. ' Must come neatly dressed ' 
 is in the advertisement of 'cash girls wanted.' " Then, in 
 addition. to such meager wages, it seems they are outra- 
 geously cheated. "They have to contribute to presents for 
 the foreman and bookkeepers." "A little girl in a tobacco 
 
WRONGS OF WORKING WOMEN. 309 
 
 factory who earns a dollar and a half per week had fifty- 
 cents deducted to buy the 'boss' a present." "The men 
 were invited to give; the girls were openly robbed." Well 
 does the writer ask, " When a girl earns three dollars and 
 a half in six days, and pays three dollars for board and 
 lodging, thirty cents of it for car fares, does her own 
 washing at night, seldom irons at all, how long before she 
 must be looking for clothing? Where can she find it?" 
 Is it not true that their employers feed upon their skill 
 and strength, grow fat and haughty on their suffering toil, 
 and merry on their misery, yea, and vampire-like, greedily 
 suck their life's blood to renew their own vigor, and to 
 minister to their own social importance? And possibly 
 when their elastic conscience occasionally bids them pause, 
 some gentle poet sings in their ear the deceitful strain 
 " 'Tis nature's doom." Deceitful I call it, because nature 
 has never ordained that a few men should grow immeasur- 
 ably rich at the expense of suffering millions; or that the 
 least among them should be deprived of all that makes life 
 desirable for the benefit of the already affluent. She is too 
 kind a mother to countenance such unjust discrimination. 
 The decree attributed to her is a fiction, a forgery, not a 
 verity. She ordains equality, not inequality; judgment, 
 not oppression; righteousness, not a cry. 
 
 Wild, lawless races are generally reported indifferent 
 to the value of human life. With the Bhils assassination 
 is a pastime; with the Fans cruelty is a delight; while the 
 Bushmen are brutal in their ferocity, and the Fijians ma- 
 lignant in their revenge. Among some tribes the least 
 breach of savage etiquette is visited with instant death, 
 and among others the aged and sick are helped out of the 
 world by appropriate tortures. This indifference, however, 
 is not confined to the swamp and the jungle; it manifests 
 itself in other quarters, in the centers of culture and re- 
 finement. Witness the great armies of Europe, the im- 
 
310 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 mense fighting-machines organized to destroy those to 
 whom they bear no enmity, with whom they have no quar- 
 rel, and in whose "violent taking off" they have not the 
 least personal interest. Or, witness the daily chronicle of 
 murders committed by drunken ruffians in saloons, or by 
 idle scoundrels on the highway or by the fireside. Mur- 
 ders by disreputable loungers in defense of an imaginary 
 quality called "honor," generally not worth the powder 
 exploded on its behalf; wife-murders, child-murders, mur- 
 ders for money, murders for revenge, murders for licen- 
 tiousness, and murders in sheer recklessness, make up the 
 frightful catalogue which blackens the pages of our news- 
 papers, and on which we every morning breakfast "full of 
 horrors." And yet so little is life prized among us that 
 the reeking stews and drinking dens which are responsible 
 for most of these barbarities are not only tolerated, but 
 are allowed with impunity to violate the law. Aye, and 
 so lightly does the community seem to regard their crimes 
 against life that their shambles are not even closed on the 
 Sabbath; and so highly are the efforts of boozy ruffians 
 to diminish population esteemed that they are actually 
 made the fountain of political honor and preferment. The 
 rum-shop governs the primary meetings, and the primaries 
 the elections, so that the still of moral death becomes the 
 spring of political life to our successful parties. 
 
 Not satisfied with destroying the body, our civilization 
 is ingeniously contrived to slaughter the moral qualities of 
 manhood, such as honesty, industry, frugality, and faith- 
 fulness. Material interests are more highly prized than the 
 spiritual. Supremacy in commerce, political sovereignty, 
 and social aggrandizement, are the idols of the hour, and 
 to their welfare everything else is subordinated. The in- 
 nocence of childhood, the gentle graces of maidenhood, 
 the sterner virtues of manhood, are all counted of second- 
 ary importance, and are deliberately imperiled or sacri- 
 
INFERIOR MANHOOD. 311 
 
 ficed at the shrine of what we are pleased to term " mod- 
 ern progress." Consequently "wealth accumulates, but 
 men decay." Carlyle sums up the situation when, con- 
 cerning the children of toil, he writes: "It is to live miser- 
 able, we know not why; to work sore and yet gain noth- 
 ing; to be heartworn, weary, yet isolated, unrelated, girt in 
 with a cold, universal laizzez-faire; it is to die slowly all our 
 life long, imprisoned in a deaf, dead, infinite injustice, as 
 ill the accursed belly of Phalaris' bull ! This is, and re- 
 mains forever, intolerable to all men whom God has made." 
 If this is a fair description, we can readily understand how 
 such a state of things must undermine the moral life. To 
 be deprived of hope, to subsist from hand to mouth, to be 
 sunless, restless, joyless, is in the large majority of cases 
 to be careless of manhood and callous to its loss. Much 
 is being said of over-population. Europe ships as many 
 thousands as possible to these hospitable shores, and even 
 here at times we feel uncomfortably crowded. "There 
 must be something wrong 1 ," writes Carlyle; "a full-formed 
 man is not only worth nothing to the world, but the world 
 could afford him a round sum would he simply engage to 
 go and hang himself." There is indeed something wrong. 
 It means that civilization has so blundered during the past 
 fifty years in organizing its industries and in developing 
 its material resources that it has cursed the earth with an 
 inferior manhood, which now cannot care for itself, and 
 which cannot be gotten rid of at pleasure. 
 
 Savages are not tenderly solicitous for the welfare of 
 their offspring. Their children are pretty much left to 
 grow up as they please. According to facts collated from 
 various sources by Herbert Spencer, the Fuegians, though 
 manifesting some paternal fondness, sell their little ones 
 to the Patagonians for slaves; and New Guinea people 
 cheerfully barter theirs for articles of merchandise. While 
 all this confessedly is very inhuman, and has no exact 
 
312 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 parallel in decent communities, it is questionable whether 
 something similar is not discernible in the neglect, and 
 worse than neglect, in which multiplied children of civili- 
 zation are reared. Many of them are not only deprived 
 of home influence, but the community being indifferent 
 to their future, they grow up on the streets uninstructed 
 in right and wrong, immoral, vicious, precocious in sin and 
 ready for evil. Every man's hand seems to be against 
 them. The Romans once gathered the children of the 
 Goths into cities and there massacred them; and society, 
 by its cruel neglect of "children, whose parents may be 
 stigmatized as modern Goths, is justly chargeable with 
 the extinction of their moral life. What a revelation 
 on this subject is furnished by the recent reports of 
 Bridewell and of the Cook County Sunday School Con- 
 vention. According to the latter, 85,G94 children in Chi- 
 cago, out of a population, between the ages of 6 and 21, of 
 135,694, do not attend any place of religious instruction, 
 and in one district of about 20,000 people not 10 per cent 
 attend church or Sunday-school; and according to the 
 former, during the last twelve months 6,755 persons were 
 committed, of whom 1,454 were 21 years old and under, 
 including children of 7 years, 8 years, 9 and 10 years of 
 age. Picture to yourselves these infants immured with 
 hardened criminals in close cells, — for as the prison ac- 
 commodations were not adequate they had to be crowded 
 together; — j)icture also solemn judges committing two 
 seven-year-old villains to the safety of stone Avails, and 
 then picture your own selves, sitting meekly worshiping in 
 silks and satins, and then ask yourselves the profoundly 
 interesting question, How much better are we than the 
 Fuegians? They sell their children to the Patagonians; 
 we sell those of our worthless neighbor to the devil. Be- 
 fore God, of the two, of the civilized and uncivilized, are 
 they or we the least culpable? Better answer the ques- 
 
MASTERS. 313 
 
 tion at once, for if we do not we shall not be prompt to 
 mend our ways, and if we do not mend our ways in this 
 and in other matters to which attention has already been 
 directed, we shall speedily be confronted by social con- 
 vulsions and earthquakes, whose violence will cover our 
 foolish boasting with contempt and scorn. 
 
 The more I reflect on the present state of society the 
 more fully am I convinced that the evils of which T have 
 complained are to be traced to that particular sin which is 
 condemned by Jesus in the text — "Ye cannot serve God 
 and mammon." 
 
 In warning the people against evils into which they 
 were liable to fall he admonishes them not to lay up treas- 
 ures on earth, but in heaven, as their heart would cer- 
 tainly be with their treasures, and they ought to desire 
 that to be in the holiest and safest place. This naturally 
 leads him to the question of divided allegiance. Can 
 a man have two masters? Can two beings or things 
 be equally supreme in the affections and the life? If 
 we are devoted to Republicanism, can we be equally de- 
 voted to Royalty, and if we are zealously attached 
 to the Protestant idea, can we at the same time be 
 enthusiastically enlisted in behalf of the Catholic? Evi- 
 dently not; for if our allegiance is divided between two, 
 neither one nor the other is really lord, and the sov- 
 ereignty of one always and necessarily implies the sub- 
 ordination of the other. There can be but one master. 
 Various interests may claim and probably should receive 
 attention, but they must inevitably pay tribute to the 
 ruling ideal. "Ye cannot serve God and Mammon." 
 Either, but not both. If the Almighty is chosen to be 
 your king, then your aims and endeavors must be regu- 
 lated in harmony with His supreme will, and your rela- 
 tions to money and business must be determined by His 
 law. He does not condemn, but rather encourages fru- 
 
314 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 gality and the spirit of accumulation, and He has never 
 declared Himself an enemy to affluence. What He pro- 
 tests against, what the Savior in our text seems to de- 
 nounce, is the possibility of Mammon usurping in the soul 
 the throne of God. Such a contingency the Scriptures 
 in the strongest terms deplore. When the inspired writer 
 exclaims: "If I have made gold my hope, or have said to 
 the fine gold 'Thou art my confidence;' if I rejoiced be- 
 cause my wealth was great, and because mine hand had 
 gotten much. — this were an iniquity to be punished by 
 the judge, for I should have denied the God that is 
 above;" and when the apostle warns: "Be not deceived, 
 for neither fornicators, nor idolators, nor thieves, nor cov- 
 etous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall 
 inherit the kingdom of God;" and adds: "No covetous 
 man who is an idolator hath any inheritance in the king- 
 dom of Christ," we perceive not only the reality, but also 
 the imminency of the peril; and when we read such pas- 
 sages as " the wicked hath swallowed down riches, but he 
 shall vomit them up again; God shall cast them out of his 
 belly; though he heap up silver as the dust, and prepare 
 raiment as the clay, he may prepare it, but the just shall 
 put it on, and the innocent shall divide the silver:" "They 
 that trust in their wealth and boast themselves in the mul- 
 titude of their riches cannot, by any means, redeem his 
 brother, or give to God a ransom for him;" "Their silver 
 and their gold shall not be able to deliver them in the day 
 of the wrath of the Lord, they shall not satisfy their souls, 
 because they are the stumbling-block of their iniquity," 
 we discern the corrupting and debasing influence of Mam- 
 monism, and the reasons why its reign should be detested 
 and denounced. 
 
 Thomas Carlyle thinks that modern society has gone 
 ov.r as never in the past to the service of this "The 
 meanest and least erect of spirits that fell from heaven." 
 
THE MON^EY MAHIA. 315 
 
 In the Latter-Day Pamphlets he says: "The Universe is 
 a huge, dull Cattle-stall and St. Catherine's Wharf; with a 
 few pleasant apartments up-stairs for those that can make 
 money. Make money and don't bother about the uni- 
 verse ! That is M. Crowdy's notion; reckoned a quiet, 
 innocent and rather wholesome notion just now; yet 
 clearly fitter for a reflective pig than for a man." To 
 which he adds that " Property is our god at present," 
 and lawyers " our pontiffs, the highest priests we have." 
 Unfortunately this representation is not without color of 
 truth, and yet the shadows are altogether too deep and 
 dark. Unquestionably we find the money plague every- 
 where, and tainting everything. Society, literature, mor- 
 ality, and religion have not escaped; and it is more than 
 suspected that justice, patriotism, virtue, genius and 
 piety are bought and sold in the market-place; and that 
 were some modern Jugurtha to view the general venality 
 he would cry out as that ancient Numidian did against 
 Rome: "Rome itself is to sell, if anybody wants to buy 
 it." But while it is true that the lust of gold distorts 
 and deforms our civilization, it is hardly fair to speak of 
 it as exceptionally Mammonized. I know of hardly an 
 age in which the thirst for gain has not been intense and 
 has not displayed itself, if not in mercantile pursuits, at 
 least in militant aggressiveness. For the sake of gain 
 barbarians have plundered monarchies and dismembered 
 kingdoms, heartless soldiers have ravaged empires and 
 blotted out nationalities, wild adventurers have braved 
 unknown seas and explored savage continents; for the 
 sake of gain the sanctities of the Jewish temple were in- 
 vaded by the Babylonians, and the territory of the Greeks 
 by the Persians; for the sake of gain Alexander rioted in 
 blood and his successors in murderous deeds, the Romans 
 in butchery, and the Goths, Vandals, and Arabs in cruel 
 slaughter; for the sake of gain, after the self-denying 
 
316 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 labors of Columbus, the new world was visited with inhu- 
 manity and atrocities, and its unoffending inhabitants 
 reduced to slavery or foully slain; and, for the sake of 
 gain, ecclesiastics employed sacrilegious means, frauds, 
 and abuses, their mercenary conduct reaching its climax 
 in the sale of indulgences, and their degradation its com- 
 pletion in the farcical procession of relics, whose charms 
 were at least sufficient to magnetize the money of the 
 people into the coffers of the priests. No age can 
 claim a monopoly of sordid meanness. Covetousness, 
 greediness, avariciousness, rapaciousness, and mercena- 
 riness display themselves continuously in the chron- 
 icles of history. Only a diseased mind will invest the 
 warriors, chieftains, kings, and rulers of antiquity with 
 heroic virtues, and insist on imputing exclusively to mod- 
 ern representatives of power the vices of cupidity and 
 parsimoniousness. The old leaders and sovereigns of the 
 people were just as base as any in the new era, the only 
 difference being that they were more openly and ruggedly 
 freebooters than their successors, and took with the 
 strong, mail-clad hand what is now filched in a gentler, 
 kid-gloved fashion. Unaccountably blind is he who fails 
 to recognize these facts, and who likewise overlooks the 
 bountiful hospitality, the generous philanthropy, the free- 
 hearted, open-handed munificence, that fosters educational 
 and religious institutions of our times, which exalt the 
 present age beyond its predecessors, and which vindicate 
 it from the charge of exceptional, preeminent, and unmiti- 
 gated Mammonism, brought against it by such writers as 
 the cynical sage of Chelsea and the over-critical Ruskin. 
 
 Nevertheless, while I utter this word of extenuation I 
 realize that the vice complained of is sufficiently vigorous 
 and widespread to occasion painful solicitude, and that it 
 cannot but be advantageous for thoughtful souls to med- 
 itate on its Cimmerian darkness and abysmal depths. 
 
IS POVERTY A CRIME? 317 
 
 Mammonism perverts the judgment. When it obtains 
 mastery it beclouds the intellect, suggests strange distinc- 
 tions, and leads to the most absurd conclusions. This is 
 especially discernible in its estimate of the relative virtue 
 of affluence and poverty. While it is tolerant of evils and 
 coquettes with notorious iniquities, it is particularly severe 
 on indigence, and, indeed, regards it as a deeply-dyed sin, 
 a sin that is mortal and unpardonable. For this it has 
 no charity and no commiseration. Rarely is this opinion 
 expressed in words, but it asserts itself in what speaks 
 louder, — actions. The deference and respect shown by 
 the rich to successful men, even when they are more than 
 suspected of business irregularities, is an indication of the 
 confusion of moral judgments which devotion to money 
 breeds. Such questionable characters are feasted, con- 
 sulted on grave occasions, and are invariably treated with 
 a consideration far beyond their merits. If a poor man 
 had not more sense and more personal worth he would not 
 be tolerated even in a servile employment, and as for his 
 views, they would not receive a moment's attention. What 
 is it that makes the difference between them? Not knowl- 
 edge necessarily, for the affluent may be as stupidly igno- 
 rant as the indigent; nor virtue, for as we have intimated, 
 one may be as vicious as the other. Evidently it is money. 
 To the eye of Mammom bonds, stocks, acres, possessions 
 of every kind, are inseparable from the individual who 
 owns them, are part of himself, are incorporated with his 
 personality, and when his worthiness is to be weighed 
 ought to be placed alongside of him in the scale. But 
 when honest poverty comes to be valued, lacking these 
 things it lacks everything; and it is censured, criticised, 
 condemned, in such tones and in such a manner as to leave 
 the impression that it is more of a crime than a misfor- 
 tune. Carlyle, referring to American society, speaks of 
 our "anomalous dukes," "overgrown monsters of wealth," 
 
318 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 " who have made money by dealing in cotton, dealing in 
 bacon, jobbing scrip, revered by surrounding flunkies, in- 
 vested with real powers of sovereignty, and placidly ad- 
 mitted by all men, as if nature and heaven had so ap- 
 pointed it, to be in a sense godlike, to be royal and fit 
 to shine in the firmament, though their real worth is — 
 what?" His cynical language is as applicable to England 
 as to America; and, unhappily, in both countries it is true 
 that the coarsest piece of human crockery, "not worth five 
 shillings of anybody's money," if stuifed, like the earthen 
 idol of Somnauth, with " half a wagon load of gold coins," 
 is looked upon by Mammon as a veritable deity entitled to 
 the tremulous homage of mankind. 
 
 That money sheds a kind of saintly aureole around the 
 head of its possessor, in the judgment of those who have 
 gained it in abundance, or who are seeking it unweariedly, 
 may be inferred from the pleas that are invented to ex- 
 tenuate his wrong-doings and the praises that are lavished 
 on his good deeds. If a rich man is a faithless husband, 
 reckless gambler, or a confirmed sot, such persons are 
 ready to apologize that, considering his surroundings and 
 temptations, it is quite remarkable that he behaves as well 
 as he does. But the same rule is scarcely ever applied to 
 the poor. The wretched beggar who abuses his wife, or 
 who drowns his conscience in dram-drinking, is at once pro- 
 nounced dangerous and worthless, and, if possible, is shut 
 up in some penal institution or reformatory. Poor people 
 are blamed for mingling with the vicious, when no other 
 society is probably open to them, and they are condemned 
 for vices which the peculiarities of their position have 
 generated. Then, rich men can purchase a reputation for 
 piety and generousness at a very small cost, and, however 
 limited may be its extent, generally it is broad enough to 
 cover a multitude of sins. If they hire pews, which they 
 rarely occupy, they are model disciples; if they serve on 
 
THE RICH AND THE POOR. 319 
 
 the board of a Theological Seminary or on a Hospital com- 
 mittee, they are exemplary saints, and if they give two or 
 three per cent of their income, duly advertised, they are 
 public benefactors. But it is different with the poor. If 
 they do not attend church, even where they are made to 
 feel that they are not wanted, they are spoken of by the 
 clergyman, in the saddest of tones, as the unevangelized 
 and unreachable masses. Were they to take him at his 
 word and come to the sanctuary, in some instances he 
 would not be overjoyed to see them, and unquestionably 
 his "beloved flock" would be shocked, and would stay at 
 home. If they stint themselves to forward the interests 
 of Christ's kingdom, or go down among the sick, and for 
 the love of souls sacrifice ease and comfort, they are set 
 down as fanatical folk or as not altogether sound in mind; 
 and, as for their self-denying gifts, they are rarely appre- 
 ciated at their true value, and cut no figure in newspaper 
 reports. Different by far is it with the sordid affluent who 
 give of their "superflux," and at best give only what is to 
 them a bagatelle. Their donations are oftentimes mere 
 attempts to purchase exemption from punishment due 
 their iniquitous course in amassing wealth. The two prov- 
 erbs quoted by Timothy Titcomb, somewhat similar in 
 character, describe them accurately: "They steal a pig 
 and give away the trotters for God's sake"; and "What 
 the abbot of Bamba cannot eat he gives away for the 
 good of his soul." This aptly pictures those who are 
 committed to the worship of the money-god, and the pur- 
 blind money-god mumbles an unconditional approval of a 
 liberality so much to its liking. 
 
 Mammonism corrupts the conscience. This is a serious 
 evil; for God gave the moral sense to be our guide, and 
 if that is debased there is no sufficient barrier anywhere 
 against the triumph of evil. Woe to the nation or indi- 
 vidual in whom this monitor is debauched; doomsday is 
 
320 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 not far off. The great Greek historian presents as a sign 
 of the degradation of his own times that men spake of 
 vices as though they were virtues, altering, as he says, 
 "at their will and pleasure the customary meaning of 
 words in reference to actions." And when the human 
 heart is intent on acquisition, when the highest object of 
 life is money-getting, it is almost sure to do the same 
 thing. Where the strife of trade is fiercest, and where 
 the sordid are most active, maxims and precepts are cur- 
 rent, which have doubtless originated with Mammon-wor- 
 shipers, and which can hardly be traced to the Decalogue. 
 It is an open secret that such worshipers do not pretend 
 to conduct business on the principles of the gospel, but 
 have devised for themselves a gospel of self-interest and 
 overreaching. To create a panic and then ride on its 
 stormy waves to affluence is called "a smart operation," 
 and to acquire a fortune by means which involve the ruin 
 of hundreds, and which beforehand were known to be 
 despicable and pregnant with untold misery, is considered 
 as both legitimate and commendable. And even when 
 companies are formed by speculators, who imagine, and 
 possibly sincerely believe, that their projects are sure to 
 yield enormous profits, but who have not taken sufficient 
 pains to ascertain all the facts in the case, and who by 
 their highly-colored representations draw to their coffers 
 the savings of the industrious and helpless, when they 
 explode and the victims wring their hands with sorrow, 
 instead of being denounced, are spoken of simply as 
 "somewhat questionable affairs." To take contracts for 
 public buildings or other improvements and execute them 
 in such a way as to jeopardize health, property, and life, 
 ;iikI to slaughter thousands of the country's defenders 
 by shoddy supplies and grow fat on the spoils, are not 
 looked upon as praotices which should entail on the 
 offenders the indignation of the plutocracy. But what a 
 
TYRANNY OF MAMMON. 321 
 
 moth-eaten, fly-blown and gangrened conscience must such 
 conceptions of right produce ? They may lead to mate- 
 rial affluence, but they foster irreparable moral indigence. 
 
 Similar must be the effect of the petty tricks and de- 
 ceptions perpetrated by small dealers and tradesmen on 
 their unwary customers. While many among them are 
 above reproach, not a few, in whom the instinct of gain 
 drowns every other feeling, are guilty of systematic and 
 continuous meanness to avoid giving a fair equivalent for 
 the money they receive. As the ceaseless dropping of 
 water wears away the solid rock, so these repeated acts 
 gradually destroy the moral life, and prepare the way for 
 greater recklessness in the pursuit of wealth. Lured by 
 this glittering idol, men of this type engage in the nefa- 
 rious rum traffic, in gambling, horse-race betting, lotteries, 
 and in other evils by which the hopes and happiness of 
 thousands are blighted. They have determined to be 
 rich; they are indifferent as to the means. No matter 
 what laws are violated or hearts broken, what wrongs are 
 committed or rights ignored, what innocence is sacrificed 
 or guilt incurred, they will be rich, — honestly if they can, 
 dishonestly if they must. To the attainment of this one 
 object they have devoted everything, — strength, health, 
 body, soul. At this altar they are prepared to immolate 
 all that they are and have, — even to their conscience. 
 That they bind, strangle, slay, and present as a whole 
 burnt offering to appease the insatiableness of the yellow, 
 dusty, dirty deity whose golden smile they covet. 
 
 And just here we have the explanation of some of the 
 evils under which the working classes groan. Mammonism 
 having no conscience, no truth, it regards those whom it 
 uses for its own advancement as having no soul. Long 
 hours, short pay for the laborer, short hours and long pay 
 for the capitalist, is its doctrine. It believes in the divine 
 and exclusive right of money. Full banks, surplus cash 
 31 
 
322 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 and driving commerce are of more importance in its estima- 
 tion than human amelioration. If to secure these ends en- 
 tire populations must be oppressed, starved and degraded, 
 so much the worse for the populations, but they must never- 
 theless submit to the inevitable. It is blind and deaf to the 
 fact that no eternal law devotes nine-tenths of the race to 
 drudgery; that no divine policy of economics discrimi- 
 nates against labor, and that no heavenly or earthly reason 
 exists why it should be so wretchedly rewarded as to ren- 
 der the poor-house, or something worse, its final haven. 
 And it stupidly fails to perceive that the science of world- 
 ly interests, as now understood, is a monstrous piece of 
 botching, as absurd as it is inhuman, and that as long as 
 it is relied on we need not expect to see any radical 
 abatement of evils which are perpetuating barbarism and 
 breeding dissensions. 
 
 But Mammonism also debases the affections. It tears 
 from the heart the image of wife, children, country, home, 
 and even God, and rears instead the bejeweled and be- 
 dizened image of itself. The faith, trust and love due 
 humanity, and supremely due the Almighty, it appropri- 
 ates to its own service, and demands that they shall lavish 
 all their strength and beauty on its repulsive charms. 
 What is home or country to the man who is intoxicated 
 with the gold poison ? He will neglect the one and sell 
 the other. His children may grow up uneducated or mis- 
 educated for all he cares, and they may be as naked in 
 body as they are beggared in mind for all he thinks or 
 heeds. He loves money with a love that will not brook a 
 rival, and his own flesh and blood is but as dull clay in 
 comparison with the diamond worth and brilliancy of his 
 idol. Hence the number of families in our day who are 
 totally neglected by their fathers, and permitted to grow 
 up as they please; and hence the increasing recklessness, 
 insubordination and lawlessness among the young. 
 
SORDID SAINTS. 323 
 
 Perhaps the more terrible illustration of the power of 
 this vice is furnished by those who profess to be the chil- 
 dren of God, to love Him and their fellow beings, and who 
 are continually confronted by the realities of eternity, and 
 yet cling 1 to their money as though it were their Savior, or 
 dole it out as though it were the life drops from a martyr's 
 veins. Though a world lies in ruins, though humanity is 
 cursed with sin and sorrow, and though they are being- 
 whirled with the velocity of earth's diurnal revolution 
 toward the judgment bar, they cling to that which if 
 wisely used would bring salvation to all mankind. They 
 stint their own spiritual nature, begrudging the paltry 
 dollars which decency compels them to offer in return for 
 the bread of life, and seem more inclined to see the souls 
 of others starve than part with their hoarded wealth. They 
 love the image of liberty on the golden coin more than the 
 image of God in the human heart. Such professors are like 
 Mont Blanc, stately, imposing to the eye, lustrous outward- 
 ly, but frigid at heart, holding their treasures as that giant 
 mountain hoards its snows, originating no rivers, nourish- 
 ing no waste places, but simply filling the atmosphere with 
 inhospitable cold. It seems to me that every time they 
 think of themselves they must be overwhelmed with shame, 
 and that " were it not for the interposition of sleep," which, 
 as it has been said by a quaint preacher, "separates all 
 men once in twenty-four hours from the consciousness of 
 their own meanness, they would die of self -contempt." 
 
 Am I not warranted, then, from these facts in charging 
 upon this miserable vice the savageness that fills our civil- 
 ization with sorrow and with suffering ? From this source 
 does it mainly spring; and ought we, therefore, to be sur- 
 prised that the Savior should positively assert the irrecon- 
 cilableness of Mammonism with the service of God? 
 Surely not. Ruskin has said, sharply but truly: "The 
 immediate office of the earthquake and pestilence is to 
 
324 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 slay us like moths, and, as moths, we shall be wise to live 
 out of their way. So the practical and immediate office of 
 gold and diamonds is the multiplied destruction of souls, 
 in whatever sense you have been taught to understand 
 that phrase." How can it be otherwise ? A passion that 
 perverts, corrupts and debases, that blinds the mind, 
 deadens the conscience and degrades the affections, is 
 necessarily soul-destroying. It has no welcome for God, 
 no desire for His blessing, no joy in His service; but 
 gradually paralyzes the religious nature, and consumes all 
 spiritual susceptibility. Before heaven is reached this 
 fever has burnt up everything that fits for heaven, and 
 before hell opens wide its ponderous gates this frenzy has 
 plunged the shriveled spirit into the depths of deepest 
 fire. 
 
 " Oh, cursed lust of gold ! when for thy sake 
 The fool throws up his interest in both worlds 
 First starved in this, then damned in that to come." 
 
 Mammon may be a good and useful servant, but he is 
 a foul and tyrannous lord. His shackles no true man 
 should consent to wear. They may be broken, they should 
 be despised. When Camillus found Sulpitious trying to 
 rescue Rome from the barbarian by large sums of money 
 he proudly exclaimed: "It is with steel, not gold, that 
 Romans guard their country." And it is with the sword 
 of the Spirit, and not with paltry pelf, that our nation is 
 to be helped and delivered from savagery. That sword in 
 the hands of Christ can free the people from the disgrace- 
 ful semi-barbarism which now afflicts. Take the Word of 
 God, accept its teachings, make its Divine Author " Mas- 
 ter," and in submitting to His authority, that which is 
 now your lord will become your slave. All you now pos- 
 sess in this world you may continue to possess; but with 
 Christ in your heart its relation to you will be changed. It 
 will be your servant, not your sovereign, and you will send 
 
MAMMON CONQUERED. 325 
 
 it on messages of peace and mercy to the ends of the 
 earth. And with the sense of emancipation will come the 
 feeling of proprietorship in more than silver can buy or 
 gold secure. However poor you may be in the perishable 
 riches, you will realize that you own all things. Looking 
 up into God's face you will be able to say " My Father"; 
 the universe will be yours in the highest sense, for you 
 will have attained the art of appropriating its inner treas- 
 ures. Christ yours, the church yours, heaven yours, — 
 what more can be needed to complete your felicity ? Here 
 have we true riches; blessed is he who finds them! 
 
 " Leave wealth behind ; bring God thy heart-best light 
 To guide thy wavering steps through life's dark night; 
 God spurns the riches of a thousand coffers, 
 And says : ' My chosen is he, his heart who offers ; 
 Nor gold nor silver seek I, but, above 
 All gifts, the heart, and buy it with my love ; 
 Yes, one sad, contrite heart, which men despise, 
 More than my throne and fixed decree I prize! ' " 
 
PAUPERISM. 
 
 " Ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye 
 may do them good." Math, xiv, 7. 
 
 "All the care 
 Ingenious parsimony takes, but just 
 Saves the small inventory, bed and stool, 
 Skillet and old carved chest, from public sale. 
 They live, and live without extorted alms 
 From grudging hands, but other boast have none 
 To soothe their honest pride that scorns to beg." 
 
 Cowper. 
 
 I AM reminded by the breath of autumn, chill prophet 
 of winter's approaching frost, and by the tattered 
 forms of trees, gaunt harbingers of earth's melancholy 
 season, of those sad classes against whose doors the snow 
 forever beats and drives, and through whose " looped and 
 windowed raggedness " the biting wind too freely blows. 
 
 " Take physic, pomp ; 
 Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; 
 That thou may'st shake the supertiux to them, 
 And show the heavens more just." 
 
 Christianity is the eldest and only born daughter of 
 that venerable religion whose care for the poor was among 
 the chiefest of its glories. Whatever may be said to the 
 discredit of Judaism, it cannot fairly be charged that the 
 uii fortunate were neglected in its ministrations. It was a 
 thoroughly humane system, seeking to shield the weak 
 from the strong, and to protect the indigent from the 
 rapacious exactions of the affluent. Pinched want and 
 heaped plenty were never known during its sway, as they 
 
 326 
 
GOD AND THE POOR. 327 
 
 have been since, and under dispensations reputed to sur- 
 pass it in philanthropy. Rarely were men seen in Israel 
 who had been fleeced, stripped, and beggared by the 
 heartless schemes of capitalists and monopolists; and only 
 toward the close of its history was such a contrast pos- 
 sible as that which Jesus painted in the parable of Dives 
 and Lazarus. Pauperism and mendicancy were not among 
 the crying evils of the nation in its palmy days, in the 
 days when its people were free, and when princes of the 
 house of Judah reigned. In those halcyon times, from 
 psalms of praise and from sacred statutes continually was 
 heard the voice of God befriending the friendless and 
 pleading the cause of the necessitous. " Blessed is he 
 that considereth the poor; the Lord will deliver him in 
 time of trouble;" "The needy shall not always be forgot- 
 ten, the expectation of the poor shall not perish forever," 
 chanted the singers; "Whoso reproacheth the poor re- 
 proacheth his Maker," echoed the teachers. " When thou 
 goest into thy neighbor's vineyard," the law enacted, 
 " thou mayest eat grapes thy fill, but thou shalt not put 
 any in thy vessel;" and it commanded the landowners to 
 leave standing the corn in the corners of the field, and not 
 to turn back to gather in the gleanings. These were for 
 the foodless and the destitute. The law likewise forbade 
 the rich to impose charges on the poor for money lent; 
 and, if a garment had been pledged for security, it de- 
 creed: "In any case thou shalt deliver him the pledge 
 when the sun goeth down, that he may sleep in his own 
 raiment." Such provisions as these, and others that I 
 care not to recall, prove that the mother of Christianity 
 looked tenderly on poverty, did not stigmatize it as a 
 crime, but regarded it as a misfortune to be treated with 
 with the most generous compassion. 
 
 But what of the daughter? Has she inherited these 
 traditions and this spirit? That it was the Lord's will that 
 
328 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 she should do so is evident from His own ministry. It is 
 said that "the common people heard Him gladly," and 
 their attention to His words may have been largely se- 
 cured by His thoughtfulness of their bodies. Wherever 
 He went He healed the sick, restored the lame, opened the 
 eyes of the blind, fed the starving multitude with miracu- 
 lous bread, and in these various ways evinced His interest 
 in their temporal well-being. Even in "preaching the 
 gospel to the poor," which He adduced in support of His 
 Messianic claims, He sought to deliver them from the evils 
 of this life almost as much as to prepare them for the life 
 to come. He was not only the Savior of the lowly, He 
 was their Benefactor as well. And that His disciples were 
 to share with Him in this mission of philanthropy is inti- 
 mated not only in the kindly words of the text, and in the 
 command, "Freely ye have received, freely give," but by 
 the fact that one of His little company carried "the bag," 
 whose scanty contents were devoted to the worthy indi- 
 gent. Thus was He understood by the primitive church, 
 and hence in her early history, to meet peculiar or press- 
 ing exigencies, all possessions were held in common, and 
 to secure equality of distribution a special office was insti- 
 tuted. While this Christian communism speedily passed 
 away, the apostles did not hesitate to enjoin upon the 
 churches the most liberal charity. Contributions were 
 called for in aid of the more destitute brethren, and were 
 cheerfully given by the more prosperous. In Paul's second 
 letter to the Corinthians considerable attention is paid to 
 this subject, where a few comprehensive and wide-reaching 
 principles are laid down for the regulation of benevolence, 
 and in other portions of the New Testament its exercise 
 is made the test of true discipleship. There it is written: 
 " Whoso hath this world's goods and seeth his brother in 
 need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, 
 how dwelleth the love of God in him?" And even when 
 
THE CHURCH AND THE POOR. 329 
 
 the object of compassion is not a brother the law of Christ 
 reads: "If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, 
 give him drink, for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of 
 fire on his head." In this manner we perceive that the 
 new religion went forth charged with the spirit of the old, 
 and that large-heartedness and open-handedness were to be 
 its distinguishing features perpetually. Whatever changes 
 might overtake it, however its doctrinal conceptions might 
 be modified or its ecclesiastical government be altered, its 
 beneficence was to be abiding. To ignore its relations to 
 the poor or to neglect its duty to the indigent would not 
 only falsify its character, but would strip it of its most 
 heavenly and convincing credentials. 
 
 This was recognized very distinctly by the followers of 
 Christ in the centuries succeeding the first. They culti- 
 vated feelings of benignity, kindness, sympathy and boun- 
 teousness. Everywhere were they known by their frater- 
 nal interest in the suffering and oppressed, by their cordial 
 recognition of the manhood of the slave, and by their 
 humane provisions for the sick and the poor, the homeless 
 and houseless, the fatherless children and husbandless 
 wives. Every Sabbath collections were taken for the un- 
 fortunate, and even seasons of sore trial, when the alms- 
 giver was hardly any better off than the alms-receiver, did 
 not hinder the discharge of this sacred duty. Within the 
 church all worshipers were equal. No distinction between 
 the slave and his master, between the high and the low, 
 was allowed in the solemn services of the sanctuary. They 
 met on the same level; they separated on the same plane. 
 Beneath the humble roof of the house consecrated to the 
 glory of God, or within the dreary catacombs, where the 
 outcast sect fled for religious consolation, rank and afflu- 
 ence, genius and learning, received as brethren the ob- 
 scure, the ignorant and the moneyless. In those days the 
 church was a refuge, an asylum, a retreat, a fortress and 
 
330 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 defense. There the victim of cruelty was comforted and 
 protected, and there the wayward and fallen were wel- 
 comed to penitence and hope. The altars of the church 
 covered the nakedness of the orphan, rejected the offer- 
 ings of the violent and- vicious, repelled the homage of 
 the unjust and luxurious, and wreathed a blessing in 
 their holy incense for the souls of all who emanci- 
 pated the bondsman, delivered the captive, and defended 
 the friendless. This spirit of philanthropy, which led 
 a Christian woman to found the first public hospital, 
 which constrained Constantine to abolish crucifixion, and 
 which impelled Justinian to encourage manumission, was 
 cultivated at every cost and at every hazard. The treas- 
 ures of the church and the lives of her members were 
 devoted to its service. To redeem the people who had 
 become prisoners to the Goths, Ambrose sold the orna- 
 ments of the altar at Milan; and Acacius, to free seven 
 thousand Persian captives, satisfied the triumphant Ro- 
 mans with the precious vessels and golden plate of the 
 Basilica. To these ecclesiastical worthies a man was worth 
 more than a miter, a soul was more than a triple crown, 
 and beneficent acts higher signs of their vocation than 
 pallium, stole and scapulary. During the ravages of pes- 
 tilences, such as depopulated Carthage, Alexandria and 
 Edessa, the disciples of Christ cared for the sick and 
 dying who had been abandoned by their heathen relatives, 
 and during the devastations of war such as desolated the 
 fair fields of Italy they were ever the mediators and the 
 fearless ambassadors of peace. Ministers of mercy, friends 
 of humanity, they made the impression on society that 
 religion is essentially philanthropic, that it had come to 
 assuage grief, relieve poverty and succor helplessness. To 
 Ihis .Julian, the emperor, traced the prevalence of their 
 sentiments, and to this maybe attributed the rise of the 
 myriad charities which beautify and bless both Europe 
 
PREVALENCE OF POVERTY. 331 
 
 and America. As Lecky says of Christianity, and says 
 truly, "It has covered the globe with countless institutions 
 of mercy, absolutely unknown to the whole pagan world. 
 It has indissolubly united in the minds of men the idea of 
 supreme goodness with that of active and constant benev- 
 olence. It has placed in every parish a religious minister, 
 who, whatever may be his other functions, has at least 
 been officially charged with the superintendence of an 
 organization of charity, and who finds in this office one 
 of the most important as well as one of the most legiti- 
 mate sources of his power." A sublime fact, which, how- 
 ever, in our day unhappily must be qualified, as the aver- 
 age minister does not seem to be particularly devoted to 
 this part of his heavenly mission. 
 
 The Earl of Beaconsfield, no mean critic of his period, 
 seems to regard it as very questionable whether society is 
 any happier now, and the masses of the people more pros- 
 perous and freer from the curse of poverty, than they were 
 in the olden times when the church watched over them and 
 cared for them in this spirit of beneficence. There are 
 passages in his romance entitled Sybil which appear to 
 intimate that the poorer classes in our day are more 
 wretched and helpless than in the past. For instance, in 
 one place he says, referring to the monastic age: "There 
 were yeomen then, sir. The country was not divided into 
 two classes, masters and slaves; there was some resting- 
 place between luxury and misery. Comfort was an Eng- 
 lish habit then, not merely an English word"; and at an- 
 other point in the story he adds: "Christianity teaches us 
 to love our neighbor; modern society acknowledges no 
 neighbor." Still more unequivocally he writes in another 
 connection: "There is more serfdom in England now than 
 at any time since the Conquest. I speak of what passes 
 under my daily eyes when I say that those who labor can 
 as little choose or change their masters now as when they 
 
332 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 were born thralls. There are great bodies of the working- 
 classes of this country nearer the condition of brutes than 
 they have been at any time since the Conquest. Indeed, 
 I see nothing to distinguish them from brutes, except that 
 their morals are inferior." However harsh and censorious 
 these views may sound, they are not without supporters. 
 Not a few candid thinkers sympathize with them, es2Je- 
 cially in the Old World. 
 
 It is insisted by many that in our age "the rich are 
 growing richer and the j3oor are growing poorer." Mr. 
 Thornton, an English writer, in his book on Over Popula- 
 tion, maintains that the condition of the working classes 
 to-day is worse than it was in the middle ages. He con- 
 demns, in common with Mr. Wright, author of Our New 
 Masters, " the ignorance of those who argue in the face 
 of facts that the English peasantry of the middle ages 
 were less comfortably situated than their living descend- 
 ants because they used barley instead of wheaten flour, 
 ate off wooden platters, never knew the luxury of a cotton 
 shirt or of a cup of tea, and slept on straw pallets within 
 walls of wattled plaster," and concludes with the state- 
 ment: "Although ruder means were employed to supply 
 the wants of nature, every want was abundantly satisfied, 
 which is far indeed from being the case at the present." 
 These gentlemen show that Hallam and Froude are more 
 than inclined to this view, incidentally confirming it in 
 their histories. Hallam distinctly says: "I find it difficult 
 to resist the conclusion that, however the laborer has de- 
 rived benefit from the cheapness of manufactured com- 
 modities, and from many inventions of common utility, 
 lie is much inferior in ability to support a family than 
 were his ancestors four centuries ago." But taking for 
 granted that these writers over-state the case, there is still 
 abundant reason for looking on the present condition of 
 society with solicitude. 
 
EXTENT OF THE EVIL. 333 
 
 Vast estates are accumulating in a few hands, and only 
 the extent of our territory averts from the New World 
 many of the land difficulties which distract the Old. Mo- 
 nopolies and gigantic capital lord it over labor and hold 
 millions of human beings in a condition approaching that of 
 serfdom. Wages are precarious, and sometimes depend on 
 voting the political ticket of employers, — so farcical is our 
 boasted right of suffrage, — and they are pitiably scant, 
 considering the extravagant prices that are demanded for 
 the common necessaries of life. In England the number 
 of paupers steadily increases; in France, also, after vigor- 
 ous and partially successful endeavors to reduce it, again 
 it is multiplying. In Holland and Belgium, formerly com- 
 paratively free from mendicity, beggars and beggary are 
 becoming more general, and even in this country, although 
 wonderfully favored and prosperous, these evils are enlarg- 
 ing and are rapidly attaining to portentous proportions. 
 That in Europe there are millions of peasants who have 
 little else than black bread to eat, and that there are thou- 
 sands in every great American city who can scarcely find 
 a crust to blunt the hungry edge of appetite, and that 
 there are other thousands who, strive as they may, can 
 hardly keep the wolf from the door, and who, to drown 
 the sense of overhanging doom, snatch a fearful joy from 
 restless dissipation, are among the commonplaces of daily 
 observation. With untold multitudes of our fellow-beings 
 existence is a tragedy composed of accumulating evils, un- 
 satisfied desire, impatience with the present and weariness 
 of the past, whose brief pauses between the acts are un- 
 cheered by the excruciating efforts which the orchestra 
 makes toward music, otherwise known as pleasure. Not 
 veiled as at Egyptian festivals does a specter sit to remind 
 them of life's hollowness, but at every scant meal does it 
 preside, uncovered in the light of day, its fleshless lips de- 
 riding their despair, and its hard, cold fingers paralyzing 
 
334 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 their strength. Nothing brought they into the world, and 
 nothing have they in it. Like the Phrygian Tantalus, 
 they are overwhelmed, but not in water, and they starve 
 with the rich clusters of plenty hanging in their sight. 
 Their efforts to win a living are Sisyphean in their fu- 
 tility, — the stone rolls back only to crush them. Every- 
 where between Jerusalem and Jericho humanity is found 
 mutilated by its own vices or plundered by its enemies, 
 naked, famished, bleeding, and the good Samaritan at his 
 wit's end to discover a remedy. Now it is a laboring man 
 trying to support a family on a miserable pittance, disheart- 
 ened by disease and the precariousness of employment; or it 
 is a widow woman with helpless children and failing health; 
 or it is a household cursed with drunken parents and mad- 
 dened by repeated disappointments; or it is a wretched 
 girl cheated of her earnings that the coffers of soulless 
 affluence may be filled, and driven by beggary to crime; 
 or it is the untutored and fatherless boy, hungry, weak, 
 and ragged, pinched with cold and foul with dirt, that lifts 
 up the imploring voice: "Have compassion, — have com- 
 passion on me, fine ladies and gentlemen ! " Multiply 
 these cases by the hundreds, and then add to them thou- 
 sands of others, burrowing in cellars and shivering in gar- 
 rets, miseducated, uneducated, incompetent people, who 
 have been sent into the mad conflict of life like soldiers 
 uniformless and weaponless; and supplement these help- 
 less crowds with the victims of our rapacious, grinding, 
 heartless civilization, among whom can be found a host 
 who have been maimed, disabled, and mutilated in its ser- 
 vice, and you may form a faint idea of the dimensions of 
 the unfortunate and melancholy army that staggers on its 
 way to the grave under the tattered banner of poverty. 
 
 No wonder that the tender heart of Philanthropy is 
 appalled at such a sight; no wonder that at times she sits 
 with folded hands in utter hopelessness of ever being able 
 
VISIONS OF PLENTY. 335 
 
 to remove the evil, and no wonder if, choking with sobs, 
 her gloom rises into a wail, and she hoarsely sings: 
 
 " These things confound nie, 
 
 They settle on my brain ; 
 The very air around me 
 
 Is universal pain. 
 The air is damp with weeping, 
 
 Rarely the sun shines clear 
 On any but those sleeping 
 
 Upon the quiet bier." 
 
 And yet she should not despair. Poverty is neither 
 indestructible nor inevitable. We have fair promises from 
 heaven pointing to its extinction, and we have sweet 
 visions seen from of old of teeming millions rejoicing in 
 abundance, and crowned with prosperity. Better believe 
 that we have failed to discern or wisely to apply the means 
 for the fulfillment of these predictions than that they shall 
 utterly fail, and the earth be perpetually afflicted. Un- 
 doubtedly there are errors and mistakes which measurably 
 account for the present deplorable state of things, which, 
 if they could only be distinctly seen and remedied, the way 
 would be prepared for better times. What the gravest of 
 these are I desire to point out, not to discuss them in full, 
 and if I am successful in my humble endeavor I may at least 
 do something toward the ultimate solution of the grave 
 problem that now burdens the thought of every enlight- 
 ened and loving soul. And I address these reflections 
 especially to the church; for, as we have seen, God com- 
 mitted to her the poor, and she is certainly more responsible 
 than any other organization for their condition. 
 
 In my judgment the continuance of poverty and the 
 spread of Pauperism are largely due to the selfish prin- 
 ciple which underlies the structure of modern society, and 
 which permeates and ramifies through all its departments. 
 Self-interest is the supreme rule everywhere. Men are in 
 
336 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 haste to be rich. The end of their striving is wealth; as 
 money in our age is the representative of ease, respect, 
 homage, and even of political preferment, they rush madly 
 toward it, careless of the thousands they may trample be- 
 neath their feet in the race. Finance is the god of the 
 present, and there seems to be no pity in the heart of its 
 worshipers. The influence of the commercial idea, elevat- 
 ing in some of its aspects, and beneficent, has been de- 
 moralizing and disorganizing in others. It has created 
 the impression that everything has its price, and that even 
 faith, honor, patriotism, justice, chastity, the esteem of 
 men, and the grace of God, are objects of trade and bar- 
 ter. The result is that the calculating spirit is dominant, 
 and it has passed into an axiom that the employer should 
 give as little as possible to labor, not as much as he can 
 reasonably afford. Over-reaching has quite thrust aside as 
 antiquated and impracticable the old law of " do as you 
 would be done by," and it is generally voted inapplicable 
 to modern times. The current maxim is, Get as much for 
 as little as possible; and the Workman naturally adopts it, 
 and renders as little as he can for as much as he can get. 
 Consequently there is at bottom no good feeling between 
 these classes, neither confidence nor sympathy, respect nor 
 love. They are preying on each other, doing their best 
 under forms of law to plunder each other, and in the 
 tussle the laborer generally comes out second best. The 
 struggle for existence between them is deadly and fierce, 
 and unfortunately the fittest does not always survive. 
 From the unequal contest the lowly emerge disheartened, 
 and frequently disabled. Fifty cents for writing all day, 
 fifty cents for plying a sewing-machine ten hours, fifty 
 cents for bending over some sickening task, fifty cents the 
 total earnings of a woman trying to guard her little ones 
 from starvation, and but little more to be earned by fam- 
 ished hundreds in the largest business establishments. 
 
ADAM SMITH. 337 
 
 Are you surprised that there is poverty ? Are you sur- 
 prised that the multiplied horrors of their life should drive 
 many to intemperance, thence to more bitter poverty 
 still '? Are you amazed, even when wages reach the mu- 
 nificent sum of two or three dollars a day, employment 
 being irregular and family sickness frequent, that it is not 
 easy to lay anything by, and that the hopelessness of the 
 fight should induce recklessness and despair? I cannot 
 say that I am. I am rather persuaded that much of the 
 prevalent indigence and appalling destitution may be 
 traced to the mistaken notion that social and economic 
 laws teach that capital in its own interest must wring 
 from labor all that it can get. There never was a greater 
 delusion ; for, as I have already argued, there is no law hu- 
 man or divine, that countenances such insane and barbar- 
 ous inequalities. 
 
 If it shall be said there is no help for what appears to 
 be so hard on labor, I deny it. The study of Sociology is 
 yet in its infancy. There must be an outlet from the 
 present confusion and muddle. After ages of pain and 
 thought we have reached the conclusion that government 
 is for the well-being of the many, and that the ruler of a 
 nation is the servant of the people, not their dictator; 
 and in time to come we shall be able to formulate a simi- 
 lar organizing principle for society, which, while discard- 
 ing the blunders of Communism, will direct the energies of 
 commerce and trade in every department toward the hap- 
 piness of the many, not as at present, for the lordly afflu- 
 ence of the few. Then capital will be the brother of labor, 
 not its king; and then labor will be the friend of capital, 
 not its slave. Another Adam Smith will in coming years 
 assuredly arise, and in a work grander than the Wealth of 
 Nations will discourse on the true relations that exist be- 
 tween the employer and the employed; and will point out 
 how the rich gifts of providence can be distributed more 
 22 
 
338 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 equally among all classes. He will doubtless show that a 
 State cannot afford quietly to look on and see its citizens 
 pauperized; that it must legislate in the interest of the 
 masses for the sake of its national spirit; and he will un- 
 questionably demonstrate that capital and labor can coop- 
 erate to the advantage of both, and that by regulating 
 competition, and by educating and even providing for the 
 young, so that they do not, as at present, enter into disas- 
 trous rivalry with their seniors, many of the accursed evils 
 which have domesticated themselves among us may be 
 cured at least in part, if not altogether. 
 
 In the meanwhile is it suggested that wealthy employ- 
 ers must give to charitable institutions for the ameliora- 
 tion of crying evils? If they can do nothing better, let 
 them do that. But let it not be forgotten that what the 
 working classes require is ampler remuneration, not char- 
 ity, a fair equivalent for service rendered, not an alms. 
 They demand what belongs to them as men, not what is 
 due the infirm and helpless. Take the money that might 
 be given to benevolent organizations and pay honest toil 
 a better price, and you will soon render their existence 
 unnecessary. Christian capitalists should do this, even if 
 none others do. While our public charities are in one 
 sense our glory, in another they are our shame; for they 
 proclaim the vice, injustice, stupidity, and oppression that 
 have rendered their existence imperative. Get rid of 
 them as rapidly as possible by a new and wiser course 
 toward the dependent. If men of means would incorpo- 
 rate their private donations and their public contributions 
 into their wage list they could abate their own taxes, and 
 they would at the same time abate Pauperism and con- 
 tribute to the permanent prosperity of society. 
 
 Another source of the evil we are considering can be 
 detected in the blundering, undiscriminating methods of 
 charity which we have adopted, and which we adhere to 
 
WAR2UKGS FROM HISTORY. 339 
 
 in the face of protests uttered by observation and experi- 
 ence. History confirms with its testimony the fact that 
 lavish and unguarded benevolence tends to pauperize a 
 community. Lecky shows that among the Romans corn 
 was freely distributed to the people, and that under Caius 
 Gracchus it was sold by the government at a merely nom- 
 inal rate. These measures were corrupted by conscience- 
 less men who sought the popular favor, and in the time of 
 Julius CcEsar three hundred and twenty thousand persons 
 were recipients of state assistance, and the number in- 
 creased to eight hundred thousand under the Antonines. 
 The result was demoralizing; industry was paralyzed. 
 The people were not satisfied with the corn; they de- 
 manded and received oil and meat in addition. In time 
 they looked upon these gratuities as their right, and, in 
 proportion as they did so, they fell away from that self- 
 reliant manhood that had formerly been their country's 
 glory. Similar results followed the excessive and incon- 
 siderate charity of the church of the middle ages, so that 
 at the dawn of the Reformation Europe was an extensive 
 poor-house. It had destroyed forethought and prudence, 
 had multiplied religious impostors, and established beg- 
 ging fraternities. Spencer, in a few sharp sentences, 
 shows the baleful effects of the Elizabethan poor-laws — 
 1601, — and it is well known that these and other public 
 and private benefactions entailed such frightful evils on 
 England that they had to be made the subject of Parlia- 
 mentary inquiry, and so grave have been the disclosures 
 that various writers, reviewing the past and the present, 
 have come to the conclusion " that charity is the real 
 cause of Pauperism." While I cannot go as far, I yet 
 firmly believe that when it is indiscriminately adminis- 
 tered it fosters the evil it ought t'o allay. In France, 
 after many bitter experiences, especially from the years 
 1693 to 1793, legislation succeeded in reducing Pauperism 
 
340 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 by enforcing the principles of industry, and in my opinion 
 it can be restrained only by the adoption of similar meas- 
 ures. 
 
 There are two classes of poor, the worthy and the un- 
 worthy, or, as they have been distinguished by some one, 
 "the Lord's poor and the devil's poor," "the poor of provi- 
 dence and the poor of improvidence." As a rule the latter 
 always get whatever the generous have to bestow. If you 
 have a relief society you will find it taken possession of by 
 those who have no claims on its bounty. They crowd the 
 worthy out, and systematically deceive the benevolent. 
 Much money is daily given away to unknown applicants 
 by individuals who have not the leisure to scrutinize their 
 character. It is bestowed in the hope that it may not be 
 misapplied, and yet frequently this liberality is guilty of 
 a double wrong, — it encourages the improvident, and by 
 
 consuming the means that mio-ht have relieved the deserv- 
 es O 
 
 ing robs them of what God ordained as their portion. The 
 only safety lies in rigid, though kindly, examination of all 
 persons who desire assistance. To render this effectual 
 there should be an organization and unification of all 
 charities. The community should be districted, and after 
 proper care the names enrolled of all who are deserving of 
 help. This course has been pursued in several cities with 
 marked success. It has found out the worthy who really 
 needed help, and it has exposed the worthless who were 
 following mendicancy as a business. Wherever it has been 
 adopted Pauperism has declined, and the community been 
 purged of its worst and most demoralizing elements. 
 
 In this connection I am constrained to say that the 
 failure to keep before us the true end of charity has mili- 
 tated against its efficacy. Discrimination is imperatively 
 demanded here. The design of benevolence is not merely 
 1<> mitigate present misery, but rather to help the unfortu- 
 nate permanently to help themselves. Christ, in His min- 
 
DUTY OF THE CHURCH. 341 
 
 istry, restored to the helpless their sight or their strength, 
 so that they could independently earn their bread, and 
 in so doing He has given us an example to follow. While 
 occasions are frequent when temporary relief is needed, 
 and should be given, philanthropy should seek above all 
 else to make the poor self-sustaining. It should seek to 
 awaken feelings of personal dignity and self-respect in 
 their breasts, and encourage them to rely on their own 
 energies. Hence it should always rather provide work 
 than bread, opportunity than clothing, situations in which 
 to toil rather than institutions in which to rest. Were 
 this kind of discrimination practiced, I am satisfied we 
 would soon rejoice in a more provident and prosperous 
 people. 
 
 One more thought and I am done. Of late I have come 
 to believe that the thrift of poverty in our times may to 
 some extent be attributed to the church. It seems to me 
 that she has divorced from her altars that work of charity 
 which she received from her Lord, and which in the primi- 
 tive age was her glory. Understand me, I do not mean 
 that her members do not aid the suffering in private, or 
 fail to sustain public measures by their sympathy and 
 their alms. I presume that they give liberally in various 
 directions and encourage nearly every humanitarian cause. 
 What I complain of is not that, but that as an organization 
 she does comparatively so little for the relief of the desti- 
 tute. She has handed over this ministry to other bodies. 
 She contributes to the support of these bodies and surren- 
 ders to them the field. As a consequence we hear it fre- 
 quently said that this or that benevolent society is doing 
 more for the poor than the church. A reproach is taken 
 up against us that diminishes our influence on society. 
 That were, of course, a small matter, were the work for 
 which we are responsible accomplished; but it is not, and 
 in my judgment never can be by any other instrumental- 
 
342 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ity. The more dependent classes are drifting away from 
 us, because the impression has steadily grown that the 
 church as such is not interested in them. When they learn 
 that it is sometimes difficult to obtain money to bury her 
 poor, and more difficult to find means to keep them alive, 
 they naturally take it as a hint that they are not wanted. 
 It is impossible to explain that the members are now bur- 
 dened with the demands of this or that institution, for the 
 unfortunate are not in the mood for drawing nice distinc- 
 tions. They judge from the surface, and as it appears 
 on the surface that very inadequate provision is made for 
 their class, they look upon themselves as thrust out from 
 the household of faith. Of course they are wrong, but the 
 onlv way to convince them of the fact is for the church to 
 resume her functions as a philanthropic society. 
 
 I am urgent on this point. She has committed her 
 temperance work to reform societies of more or less effi- 
 ciency; she has surrendered her city missions to the care 
 of independent organizations, and even her members, when 
 they develop marked ability and exceptional zeal, too fre- 
 quently set up for themselves, or go out and do for Young 
 Men's Christian Associations what they ought to do within 
 her boundaries and for her success. Rapidly she is depriv- 
 ing herself of everything like a distinctive mission among 
 men. Complex union meetings and special evangelistic 
 efforts she substitutes for her own direct endeavors to win 
 souls to Christ; movements to succor penitent criminals 
 or to aid the worthy poor she allows to take her place in 
 bringing help and healing, and what is left to her of actual 
 service to mankind is hardly worth recording. If ever the 
 church perishes it will be because she has rendered herself 
 unnecessary to the world; and if ever she regains her posi- 
 tion she must resume her God-given vocation, have less 
 care about being aristocratic and ornamental, and become 
 practical and useful. Nor can she better begin her refor- 
 
MOTIVES TO BEKEVOLEJSCE. 343 
 
 mation than by taking up her long-neglected ministry to 
 the indigent, seeking them out and enriching them with 
 her beneficence. 
 
 Do you suggest that such a course would call to her a 
 host of impostors and of worthless idlers? Possibly: but 
 she is under no obligation to give her money to them, 
 and a little judicious discrimination would soon disperse 
 them. But supposing that they came, the message of 
 truth from her lips might reclaim many, and the thousands 
 of others who would throng her courts would be stimulated 
 to earnest endeavor and industry. It is her influence on 
 character that renders her so important an instrumentality 
 in curing the evil of poverty. She is able to quicken dor- 
 mant sensibilities, to arouse slumbering energies, and to 
 awaken manly aspirations. Thousands have received new 
 life at her altars, and have gone forth animated by a new 
 hope to conquer for themselves a support in the world. It 
 is this work that other societies cannot do, and it is this 
 that is especially needed to diminish the proportions of 
 pauperism, and which, in failing to accomplish by alienat- 
 ing the poor, the church stands justly charged w T ith re- 
 sponsibility for its present magnitude and strength. 
 
 My brethren, surely the time has come for us to return 
 to the Lord's plan. Among us there are children to be 
 clothed, widows to be aided, and afflicted ones to be cared 
 for. Here and now determine to be mother, friend and 
 benefactor to them all, so that within your ample bound- 
 aries no child of God shall cry in vain for bread, and no 
 worthy fellow-being look despairingly for sympathy or 
 succor. A modest sum added to your pew-rent will be all- 
 sufficient, and this supplemented by your prayers and 
 thoughtful love will carry an enduring blessing to many a 
 melancholy home and to many a discouraged heart. Yea, 
 your gracious ministry will return the benediction to your 
 own soul. It will bless the giver more than the receiver. 
 
344 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 You will sleep more warmly in the coming winter nights, 
 because of the mantle you have thrown around the form of 
 shivering need; you will tread more firmly the declining 
 years for the staff of support you have placed in the hands 
 of aged distress, and you will sing more sweetly for the mel- 
 odies you have awakened in the once mute or wailing bosom 
 of gnawing want. Light will have new pleasure for you 
 when it falls radiant from thankful eyes, and no diamond 
 that ever shone on maiden's brow will be to you as pre- 
 cious as the silent, glistening tear of gratitude bedewing 
 your hand of charity. As you draw nearer to the poor, 
 the Savior will come nearer you. In their presence you 
 will feel that you are in His. The legends of Saint Chris- 
 topher and of Saint Julien will be translated into the ver- 
 nacular of your experience. The orphan child you carry 
 across the swirling stream in your embrace will grow into 
 the Christ, and the stranger you rescue from the pitiless 
 storm and from the dreary night will be transformed into 
 the Savior; and then will you discern the meaning of those 
 gracious words: "As ye did it unto one of the least of 
 these, ye did it unto me." And then, stealing over your 
 soul like the music of the morning, will sweetly chime the 
 Master's welcome, assurance of eternal rest: "Come, ye 
 blessed of my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for 
 you from the foundation of the world." 
 
ALTRUISM. 
 
 " For whosoever will save his life shall lose it, and whosoever 
 shall lose his life for my sake shall find it." Matt, xvi, 25. 
 
 "Abou Ben Adhem, — may his tribe increase ! — 
 Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, 
 And saw amid the moonlight in his room, 
 Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, 
 An angel writing in a book of gold ; 
 Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, 
 And to the vision in the room he said, 
 ' What writest thou ? ' The vision raised its head, 
 And with a voice mr.de of all sweet accord 
 Replied, ' The names of them that love the Lord.' 
 ' And is mine one ? ' said Abou. ' Nay, not so,' 
 Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, 
 But cheerly still, and said, ' I pray thee, then, 
 Write me as one who loves his fellow men.' 
 
 "The angel wrote and vanished. The next night 
 He came again with a great wakening light ; 
 He showed the names whom love of God had blest, 
 And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest." 
 
 Leigh Hunt. 
 
 WHILE with deepest solicitude a serious man will 
 address himself to the question of his soul's salva- 
 tion, with hardly less earnestness will he seek to know 
 how he may save his life. The two lines of inquiry, 
 though intimately blending, are not identical; for even 
 when anxiety regarding the future world has been entirely 
 allayed, dissatisfaction with the experiences of the present 
 may be sorely felt. Many religious people who have no 
 kind of doubt as to their acceptance with God are pain- 
 fully conscious that they are of little service to man. 
 
 345 
 
346 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 They find no genuine enjoyment in their pursuits, their 
 triumphs and their pleasures. Their daily life is barren, 
 commonplace and uninteresting. They grow infinitely 
 fatigued with its routine, and were it not impious, they 
 could wish for its speedy termination. Their attitude is 
 one of moody resignation and of stolid submission. Life 
 is endured because it would be sinful to end it, and its 
 ghastly possessors smile sepulchrally at each other, and try 
 to make each other believe that it is relished. The thin 
 hypocrisy, however, cannot conceal the truth that a very 
 large number of people, religious and non-religious, have 
 no very distinct idea as to why they were born, what they 
 are here for, or how they are to derive from existence suf- 
 ficient satisfaction to compensate for the evils they are 
 forced to endure. Life to them is a sky without stars, a 
 star without radiance, a garden without flowers, a flower 
 without perfume, an orchestra without music, music with- 
 out harmony. Evidently they have missed its secret, 
 have not discovered its art, and are in imminent peril of 
 dying without having truly lived. 
 
 When they are oppressed by the consciousness of this 
 fact, and begin to discern and believe that there must be 
 a sweetness and profit in life- hitherto concealed from 
 them, and to inquire with reference to it, " What must I 
 do to be saved ? " a crisis is reached only second, if indeed 
 it be second, to that which prompted the soul to give 
 utterance to a similar cry when burdened with a sense of 
 guilt. And it is a cause of rejoicing that the Book which 
 furnishes an adequate answer to the appeal of the soul 
 has not failed to supply a principle for the conservation of 
 the life. That principle is stated tersely and paradoxically 
 in the words of the text, — words which we shall do well 
 to lay to heart on the close of this sermon-series, — and 
 which, if fairly interpreted and honestly received, may 
 
SPINOZA AND GEORGE ELIOT. 347 
 
 render our future more useful, and infinitely more gratify- 
 ing, than has been our past. 
 
 George Eliot has given her reading of the problem, 
 representing a school of thought which is entitled to 
 respectful consideration, though it may at times awaken 
 commiseration. In early years, influenced by such books 
 as Strauss' Life of Jesus and Feuerbach's Essence of 
 Christianity, she drifted away from the faith of the 
 church, and embraced sentiments which are now currently 
 known as "Altruistic." She was undoubtedly the grand- 
 est representative and the noblest advocate which these 
 views have ever had, and what she has not directly or in- 
 directly said in their behalf is hardly worth saying. While 
 the essence of Altruism is expressed by Spinoza in the 
 famous passage " He who loves God must not desire God 
 to love him in return," we get a clearer view of its sweep 
 and scope from the works of its acknowledged champion. 
 According to its teachings, the religion of humanity pre- 
 scribes as its first, and perhaps only, law that we should 
 devote ourselves absolutely to the well-being of others, 
 and should so subordinate every selfish instinct to this 
 supreme object as to be unaffected by hopes of rewards or 
 fears of punishment. Virtue is identified with total dis- 
 interestedness, and duty is degraded, loses its character, 
 and is changed to expediency when it is associated with 
 thought of motives. Immortality, the world beyond, the 
 favor of God, and even the happiness of self, are unworthy 
 a moment's attention; for the former are beclouded with 
 uncertainty, and the latter consideration is utterly despi- 
 cable. Altruism and Agnosticism shake hands, and are in 
 brotherly agreement. The second claims that we are in 
 ignorance concerning everything beyond the range of our 
 senses, and the first declares that we ought not to permit 
 the Unknowable to influence our conduct. Unquestionably 
 George Eliot is correct in magnifying the duty of loving 
 
348 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 self-sacrifice for others. This is essentially the doctrine of 
 the Bible. We are "to esteem others better than our- 
 selves," we are to "love our neighbor as ourselves," we 
 are " to bear each other's burdens," and so to " fulfill the 
 law of Christ." Nay more, we are also to devote our- 
 selves to God's service, and to surrender all that we have, 
 if necessary, to further His holy will and pleasure. We 
 are to count ourselves least, to hold ourselves as dead to 
 our own selfish interests, and to count not our life dear if 
 we can by any means save others. To this extent Chris- 
 tianity is altruistic, and as far as this central principle 
 of self-abnegation goes I have only words of respect and 
 admiration for this Ism and its advocates. But Christian- 
 ity does not sanction their wholesale repudiation of mo- 
 tives. While it is far from appealing to selfish fear or 
 mercenary hope, it does recognize the fact that man is 
 susceptible to various influences, and that he is moved by 
 inducements more or less refined and noble. It aims to 
 sway him by considerations which will meet this part of 
 his nature, and yet do so in such a way as to deepen in 
 his heart the spirit of thoughtful love and self-sacrifice for 
 others. In other words, its supreme motive is of such a 
 character that the more it is felt the less will men think of 
 themselves or of their own interests, and the less will they 
 be given to vain egotism and narrow selfishness. This 
 Christian Altruism, if I may be allowed to combine terms 
 usually hostile, is expressed by our Lord in the text, and 
 if seriously pondered and thorough^ comprehended will, 
 I am persuaded, commend itself to every man's conscience 
 in the sight of God. 
 
 After the disciples had confessed that Jesus was the 
 Christ, they were startled and overwhelmed by His decla- 
 ration "that He must go unto Jerusalem, and suffer many 
 things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be 
 killed, and be raised again the third day." This volun- 
 
THE REMONSTRANCE. 349 
 
 tary surrender to what seemed unnecessary suffering espe- 
 cially appealed to the feelings of Peter, who immediately 
 and earnestly remonstrated, saying: " Be it far from 
 Thee, Master; this shall not be unto Thee." In our ver- 
 sion we have the expression that Peter " rebuked " Jesus, 
 but the original does not convey this impression, and our 
 own sense of the respect in which the disciple must have 
 held his Lord will not permit us to suppose that he pre- 
 sumed to employ language so irreverent. He did not 
 reprove; he rather expostulated with Him, whom he had 
 so recently acknowledged as the Messiah, and sought to 
 dissuade from His fatal purpose. The marginal reading 
 reveals the spirit in which the apostle made this appeal. 
 As there given his language is " Pity Thyself," that is, 
 "Be merciful to Thyself, and do not go to Jerusalem; 
 attain the end of Thine mission without suffering and 
 shame." Alas ! Peter, like many of my readers, did not 
 understand the real significance and the strange mystery 
 of life. He seemed to labor under the delusion that 
 Christ could accomplish His sublime purpose of mercy at 
 ease, surrounded with every comfort, in an autocratic 
 manner, and that, as God in the beginning " commanded 
 and it stood fast," so all that the Master had to do was 
 " to speak and it would be done." This seemed to be his 
 idea, but it was not Christ's. Rudely was he roused from 
 his delusion by the stern words of the Savior, almost iden- 
 tical with those addressed to Satan on the occasion of the 
 temptation, " Get thee behind me, for thou savorest not 
 the things that be of God." Just as the devil had tried 
 to induce Him to seek an easy and short road to success 
 by " falling down and worshiping him," so Peter had pre- 
 sumed to suggest the possibility of victory without con- 
 flict. In both instances the great law of life was ignored, 
 and the fruitful source of its perversion and failure was 
 insinuated. 
 
350 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Straightway the Savior corrects the error of His ser- 
 vant. He shows that his attitude is not exceptional; that 
 he is neither erratic nor eccentric, but that what is true of 
 Himself is also true of all men. Even as He "to rise 
 again the third day," with power and in glory, and to 
 actualize the sublimest possibilities of His existence, must 
 travel the highway of death, so in a similar, though infe- 
 rior sense, every disciple, yea, and every man who would 
 save his life from uselessness, perversion and dishonor, 
 must consent to lose it. There is one law applicable to 
 all alike, to the Savior and the saint, to the saint and the 
 sinner. The seed-corn "must die or it abideth alone," 
 but if it die it "shall bear much fruit." There is that 
 " which scattereth and yet increaseth," and there is " that 
 which withholdeth more than is meet and that tendeth to 
 poverty;" and there is that which deals with life as a 
 miser deals with money, and that loses it at the end. 
 
 Never has any real benefit been conferred on society, 
 or any permanent advantage been secured without cost- 
 ing somebody suffering and loss. As the old Latin poet 
 sings, 
 
 " Not for themselves birds rear the nest, 
 Or bears its woolly fleece the sheep, 
 Or builds the bee its honeyed rest, 
 Or drags the ox the ploughshare deep." 
 
 And never was nest yet built for weary humanity, and 
 never was covering wrought for its infirmities and sins, 
 and never was sweetness extracted from the flower to 
 mingle with the bitterness of its anguish, and never, 
 never, did the share prepare the way for abundance to 
 meet the famine of its mind and heart, without somebody 
 performing exacting labor and enduring exhausting an- 
 guish. The names of martyrs, heroes, reformers, explor- 
 ers, scientists and philanthropists, the Polycarps, the 
 Winkelrieds, the Savonarolas, the Magellans, the Kep- 
 
HINDU MYTHS. 351 
 
 lers, and the Howards, are perpetual witnesses that no 
 great victory has yet been achieved for the world ajDart 
 from self-abnegation and self-surrender. Death seems to 
 be the condition of life, and vicariousness the law of prog- 
 ress. If we would deliver others from evil we must be will- 
 ing to bear evil ourselves; if we would bring others into the 
 light we must consent ourselves to go down into the dark- 
 ness; and if we would press others upward to the mount of 
 Transfiguration we must be prepared to descend into the 
 valley of Achor. So deeply has this conviction impressed 
 the human mind, and interblended with its thinking, that 
 in the literature, and especially in the religions, of all 
 lands we find it taking shape in some legend or doctrine 
 by which the relation of self-sacrifice to the advancement 
 and well-being of society or the world is maintained and 
 illustrated. Perhaps the earliest of these representations 
 are to be found among the Hindus, and I refer to them 
 particularly as they at once suggest the antiquity and the 
 prevalence of the principle involved. For instance, ac- 
 cording to authorities cited by Johnson, the Rig Veda 
 is supposed to teach that the Supreme Spirit sacrificed 
 himself to create the world; and Soma is exalted in the 
 " Hymns " as a " healer, and deliverer from pain," the 
 Sdma Veda testifying that this deity " submits to mortal 
 birth, and is bruised and afflicted that others may be 
 saved." But the most splendid and thrilling illustration 
 of this doctrine is contained in the Mahaprasthdnika 
 Parva of the Mahdbhdrata, the " fable of faithful love 
 which is stronger than death." It will repay us to glance 
 hastily at the story, as it is given by Edwin Arnold in his 
 translation published recently in the International Re- 
 view. 
 
 The kingly family of the Pandavas, having received 
 from saintly Vyasa a view of the invisible world, became 
 discontented with royalty and determined to journey to- 
 
352 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ward Mount Meru, " where is Indra's heaven," where all 
 sorrows would terminate and union with the Infinite be 
 attained. King Yudhishthira, his sister the peerless 
 Draupadi, and his brethren, Arjuna, Sahadev, Nakula, 
 and Bhimasena, clothed in rough habits, moved forward 
 without faltering or hesitancy, through tangled forests 
 and across the " wide waste of sand, dreadful as death," 
 toward the East, where Paradise blooms. When they 
 came in sight of Meru, Draupadi fell and died because she 
 loved her husband "better than all else," better even than 
 heaven. " That was her tender sin, fault of a faultless 
 soul." Then Sahadev swooned and died, because " wis- 
 dom made him proud;" then Nakula perished, because of 
 self-satisfied love; then Arjuna followed, because "once 
 he lied a worldly lie and bragged," and then Bhimasena, 
 too, because he " fainted and stayed upon the way," " too 
 much devoted to the goodly things of earth." 
 
 " Thenceforth alone the long-armed monarch strode, 
 Not looking back — nay! not for Bhinia's sake, — 
 But walking with his face set for the Mount. 
 After the deathly sands, the Mount! and lo! 
 Sakra shone forth, — the God, — filling the earth 
 And heavens with thunder of his chariot wheels. 
 'Ascend,' he said, 'with me, Pritha's great son!' 
 But Yudhishthira answered, sore at heart 
 For those his kinsfolk, fallen on the way. 
 ******* 
 ' They, the delightful ones, who sank and died, 
 Following my footsteps, could not live again 
 Though I had turned,— therefore I did not turn ; 
 But could help profit, I had turned to help.' 
 Indra smiled and said, 
 
 ' O thou true king, 
 Thou that dost bring to harvest the good seed 
 Of Pandu's righteousness . . . 
 Enter thou now to the eternal joys.' " 
 
 But Yudhishthira replied that he could not consent to 
 tarry where his loved ones were not. He felt that it was 
 
DEATHLESS LOVE. 353 
 
 his duty to be with them even in sorrow, and expressed a 
 wish to join their company. A golden Deva was there- 
 fore sent to conduct him where his kinsmen were. On- 
 ward they went together treading "the sinners' road." 
 
 " The tread of sinful feet 
 Matted the thick thorns carpeting its slope ; 
 The smell of sin hung foul on them ; the mire 
 About their roots was trampled filth of flesh 
 Horrid with rottenness, and splashed with gore, 
 Curdling in crimson puddles ; where there buzzed 
 And sucked and settled creatures of the swamp, 
 Hideous in wing and sting, gnat-clouds and flies, 
 With moths, toads, newts, and snakes red-gulleted, 
 And livid, loathsome worms, writhing in slime 
 Forth from skull-holes and scalps and tumbled bones." 
 
 Thus the king reached Kutashala Mali, gate of utmost 
 Hell, and for a moment paused; and then pressed on amid 
 piteous groans, bringing by his presence mitigation of 
 suffering to the wretched captives. At last he meets his 
 unfortunate relatives, and ministers some solace to their 
 agonizing hearts. Finding that partnership in their an- 
 guish affords them relief, he exclaims: 
 
 " I stand 
 Here in the throat of Hell, and here will bide — 
 Nay, if I perish — while my well-beloved 
 "Win ease and peace by any pains of mine." 
 
 This readiness to brave hell for love excited the admira- 
 tion of the " Presences of Paradise," and they told him 
 that all heaven was glad because of him. On his account, 
 and because of his self-immolation, his friends are freed 
 from dread despair, and with him enter the abode of the 
 blessed and saved — "washed from soils of sin, from pas- 
 sion, pain, and change." 
 
 Beautiful and impressive as this narrative is, it does 
 not surpass the gospels in their manner of enforcing the 
 23 
 
354 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 indispensableness of the vicarious principle. The entire 
 movement to rescue man from sin and death proceeds on 
 the supposition of its efficacy. Jesus " who was rich be- 
 comes poor, that we through His poverty might be rich"; 
 " He dies the just for the unjust that he might bring us 
 to God "; " He redeems us from the curse of the law, being 
 made a curse for us"; and thus these special benefits to 
 us are all conditioned on His becoming poor, being made 
 a curse, and suffering the pangs of death. Explain as we 
 may the precise meaning of these passages, the one domi- 
 nant thought pervades them all, that to save the life of 
 others Jesus had to lose his own. The same principle 
 reveals itself conspicuously in His followers and in their 
 teachings. Paul could wish himself accursed from Christ 
 for Israel's sake; Peter rejoiced in being a partaker of 
 Christ's sufferings; and perhaps all of the sacred writers 
 in some form recognized the fact that nothing could be 
 done for the world in the spirit of self-seeking or of self- 
 indulgent somnolence. We may, therefore, conclude that 
 on no point in the entire domain of religious and moral 
 thought is there such general agreement as on this; and 
 that, if we would really help the world, we must be ready 
 to surrender self in sacrifice. 
 
 To understand what our Lord means by losing life we 
 may with profit consult the force of the prescription con- 
 tained in the preceding verse. He there declares that His 
 disciples must deny themselves, must take up their cross 
 and follow Him. As this unquestionably is tantamount to 
 "losing life," it is of the highest moment that we should 
 apprehend distinctly the meaning of the language. It 
 may also assist us to remember that He Himself is the 
 clearest exemplification of the principle He inculcates, 
 and that it must aid us to study it in the light of His 
 personal history. 
 
 Certainly by self-denial He does not intend to recom- 
 
LAW OP SELF-SACRIFICE. 355 
 
 mend anything of an artificial and perfunctory character. 
 There have always been ascetically-minded individuals 
 who have interpreted our Lord's words as enjoining some 
 self-imposed sufferings. Hence they have afflicted their 
 bodies, have sought out curious means of torturing them- 
 selves, as though a man in the discharge of his duty would 
 not encounter trials and pains enough to satisfy the most 
 morbid without taking the trouble to invent them. They 
 have scourged themselves with whips, as though the ene- 
 mies of righteousness would fail to scourge them with 
 scorpions ; they have withdrawn from their families, as 
 though their flesh and blood would not of its own accord 
 raise its hand against godliness; and they have alienated 
 their property and voluntarily become poor, as though 
 there were not worldly cormorants in sufficient numbers, 
 and with appetites sufficiently voracious, to devour all 
 their substance. Saints of a less heroic mood have felt 
 it incumbent on themselves to wear unsightly garments, 
 to look with scorn on the harmless amusements of society, 
 to perform vigils and fastings, and to make themselves as 
 unamiable and as uncomfortable as possible. But Christ 
 never countenanced in His own life any such interpreta- 
 tion of His words. He never formally undertook a fast. 
 When He abstained from bread the stress of His feelings 
 was such that He had no appetite for food. He never 
 withdrew from a pleasure that came not in the way of His 
 work, nor did He wear a robe to distinguish Him from 
 others, and equally far was it from His thought to afflict 
 His body in any way. In other words, He never regarded 
 it as needful to be His own enemy in a world where ene- 
 mies were thick on every side. Whatever difficulties, 
 whatever sufferings, whatever burdens had to be endured 
 in the course of His ministry, He submitted to unrepin- 
 ingly and patiently, and these were as much as He could 
 bear. And it is not necessary, nor is it modest, for the 
 
356 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 disciple to pretend to a higher degree of self-abnegation 
 than his Lord. He, too, will have his trials and his ago- 
 nies, and if he will only meet them in the sjjirit of his 
 .Master he need not undertake to convert his meager gar- 
 den into a wilderness, nor his little day into night. 
 
 Not infrequently are Christians heard to speak of du- 
 ties as crosses to be borne, and I am convinced that some 
 among them regard their performance as a complete com- 
 pliance with the law of self-denial. It is a cross to pray, 
 to speak, to commend Christ to others, to attend church, 
 to frequent the social meetings, and, indeed, to do any- 
 thing of a distinctly religious nature. By the force of 
 their will and with the aid of sundry admonitions they 
 bring themselves up to the discharge of these obligations, 
 but on the whole they feel that it should entitle them to a 
 place in "the noble army of martyrs." I am sorry to dissi- 
 pate the comfortable illusion, but I am compelled to assure 
 them that they totally misapprehend the doctrine of our 
 Lord. He said that it was His meat and drink to do the 
 will of His Father, and He never once refers to duty in 
 any other way than as a delight. The cross was something 
 distinct from it, and incidental to it, but never to be iden- 
 tified with it; and if we look upon it otherwise, if we find 
 no honest joy in the service of God, and if we fail to dis- 
 criminate between that and the pangs and pains to which 
 it may give rise, we shall fall infinitely short of the 
 conception embodied in the language of Christ. 
 
 To deny oneself, to take up the cross, denotes some- 
 thing immeasurably grander than self-imposed penance or 
 rigid conformity to a Divine statute. It is the free sur- 
 render of self to an ennobling work, an absolute subordi- 
 nation of personal advantages and of personal pleasures 
 for the sake of truth and the welfare of others, and a will- 
 ing acceptance of every disability which their interests 
 may entail. It is the sacrifice of life, as life is understood 
 
 ~< 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 357 
 
 among men, of the absorbing care with which it is usually 
 regarded, of the greatness to which it may attain, of the 
 comforts which it may enjoy, and of the honors where- 
 with it may be crowned. In Christ this spirit prompted, 
 for the sake of human redemption, the abandonment of 
 heaven's glory and the endurance of earthly shame. It 
 constrained Him to become of no reputation, to assume 
 the form of a servant, and to carry His obedience even 
 unto the death of the cross. In such a man as Paul it 
 moved him to seek the world's welfare at the expense of 
 his social standing, his friends' approval, his earthly pros- 
 pects, and his personal safety. In such men as Bruno and 
 Galileo it inspired, for the emancipation of truth as truth, 
 a zeal and self-forgetfulness, and the sacrifice of ecclesias- 
 tical favor, the comforts of home, and the dignities of life. 
 In the mother, for the sake of her children, it leads to 
 wakefulness while others sleep, to solicitude when others 
 laugh, and to an absolute merging of her selfhood in 
 theirs. She carries their burdens, drinks deeper of their 
 sorrows than of her own, and deprives herself of every 
 pleasure that theirs may be increased. In the patriot it 
 creates an unselfish devotion that influences him to subor- 
 dinate personal preferences, considerations, aspirations and 
 ambitions to the public weal. And in the minister of the 
 gospel it enkindles a flame of love, a consuming passion 
 for the salvation and elevation of humanity, in which all 
 thought of self is burned away, and before which all idea 
 of self-aggrandizement, reputation and honor is brought to 
 naught. Possible in every calling and pursuit, and among 
 every class and condition of mankind, its radical character- 
 istic is a recognition of something in the universe grander 
 than personal well-being, and a voluntary cousecration of 
 everything that enters into temporal well-being to the 
 interests of whatever that ideal something may be. 
 
 This, in my opinion, is what the Savior meant by " los- 
 
358 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ing life," and doubtless when He laid aside His glory and 
 entered into the world of sin, the angels, who understood 
 not the mystery of redemption, plead with Him, as did 
 Peter, at a later day, "to be pitiful to himself." I can 
 conceive of them as meekly remonstrating with Him not 
 to lose His life, for to their sight, blinded by excess of 
 peaceful blessedness, it must have seemed that His self- 
 sacrifice was indeed the extreme of unthriftiness. But if 
 they never indulged so misguided a judgment, it cannot 
 be said that our fellow-beings have been wiser. Many of 
 them have only seen in self-sacrifice the wildest fanaticism 
 and the most foolish prodigality. To the apostle bound 
 to go to Jerusalem and to Rome, where dangers and ene- 
 mies awaited him, they have uttered their protest born of 
 worldly wisdom. To the scientist they have said: "Why 
 pursue your investigations at such a cost as your ease and 
 happiness? Why not- cherish your opinions in secret, and 
 leave an ungrateful and unsympathizing community to its 
 ignorance? Be merciful to thyself." To the mother they 
 have offered their commiseration, and have not hesitated 
 to express the conviction that she was wasting her life, 
 and that she should eat, drink, dance, and be merry, as 
 on the morrow she would die. And to all others moved 
 by a lofty purpose, and inspired by a great idea, such as 
 patriots and ministers, they have chattered the same ex- 
 postulations, warning them that if they were not less zeal- 
 ous they would cut short their days, or die in poverty, as 
 though sudden death or lack of riches was the most terri- 
 rible of evils. "Be merciful to yourselves," echoes the 
 voices of these earth-blinded souls; "be pitiful to your- 
 selves, do not throw away your life, be considerate of your 
 own interests, and mindful of your own welfare. Do not 
 throw away your life, we beseech you; you have only one, 
 husband it, care for it, cherish it, wrap it in a napkin and 
 burv it where it will be safe." 
 
SAVING TO LOSE. 359 
 
 When, two or three years ago, in our religious gather- 
 ings we sung the lines, 
 
 "Oh! to be nothing, nothing, 
 But simply to lie at His feet, 
 A broken, empty vessel, 
 
 For the Master's use made meet." 
 
 the sentiment was received in some quarters with derision. 
 It was said sarcastically, " what have such cities as New 
 York, Boston, or Chicago, in common with such self-ab- 
 negation ?" "The age," it was declared, " is self-assert- 
 ive, and the thought of this hymn is utterly foreign to its 
 spirit and its life." Unquestionably the criticism has 
 some foundation in fact; but admitting this to be cor- 
 rect, it does not condemn the sentiment of the hymn, but 
 rather the temper of our times. Unhappy are we if our 
 civilization has so materialized us that no room can be 
 found for the generous devotion of self to a worthy and 
 sublime enterprise, if there is nothing higher for a man on 
 earth than the zealous promotion of his own worldly in- 
 terests. Christ not only rebukes, but also states the 
 essential folly of such a theory. In His turn He remon- 
 strates with humanity, in substance saying: "Be merciful 
 to thyself; for whosoever will save his life shall lose it." 
 What the Savior taught upon this point has not only 
 been reiterated by His disciples, but even some of the 
 heathen have recognized its essential soundness. With 
 a clearness that may well put to shame the boasted broad- 
 ness and discernment of our age, it was perceived by sev- 
 eral of the wiser pagans that to be something life must be 
 nothing, and that to save it it must be lost. One of these 
 writers I quote, and only one, and he a representative 
 of that Asiatic thought which some restless minds are 
 seeking in our day to array against Christianity, who 
 elaborates into a philosophy what Jesus delivered as an 
 apothegm. I refer to Lau-Tsze, the Chinese, who was 
 
360 IS. MS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 contemporary with Confucius, and who excelled that 
 celebrated personage in the grandeur of his teachings. 
 Six hundred years before Christ he gave utterance to the 
 following sentiment: "The sage does not lay up treas- 
 ures. The more he does for others the more he has of his 
 own. The more he gives to others the more he is in- 
 creased." On which sentiment the translator and editor 
 of his works offers the following comment from Bunyan: 
 
 "A man there was, though some did count him mad, 
 The more he gave away the more he had." 
 
 In another place this ancient sage exclaims: " He who 
 bears the reproach of his country shall be called the lord 
 of the land. He who bears the calamities of his country 
 shall be called the king of the world." . . . "He that 
 makes mars. He that grasps loses. The sage makes 
 nothing, therefore he mars nothing. He grasps nothing, 
 therefore he loses nothing." ..." When he washes to be 
 before the people he must, in his person, keep behind 
 them. When he wishes to be above the people he must, 
 in his language, keep below them." He also declared 
 " that he that is diminished shall succeed," and to him 
 may be traced the pregnant suggestion, expressed by 
 Oken, "Zero is the essence of mathematics." Just as we 
 are able by the sign " " to make the most abstruse and 
 complicated calculations, so when a man descends to that 
 sign of nothingness is he able to rise to the sublimest 
 heights of potency and greatness. As zero is the very sub- 
 stance of mathematical science, so self-denial is the very 
 substance of personal usefulness. Or, as the Talmud has 
 it: "Whosoever runs after greatness, greatness runs away 
 from him; whosoever runs from greatness, greatness fol- 
 lows him." Which is just equal to saying: "Whosoever 
 will save his life shall lose it, and whosoever will lose his 
 life for my sake shall save it." 
 
ENLARGING LIFE. 361 
 
 While it is well to recall the fact that thoughtful souls 
 of pre-Christian ages have approved the principle com- 
 mended by the Savior, we should at the same time realize 
 that it is not only attested by evidence, but is grounded 
 in common sense. What more reasonable than the belief 
 that life becomes broader, deeper, fuller, more abundant, 
 in proportion as it is concerned with the interests of 
 others ? By identifying itself with the lives of many, by 
 making their cause its own, by entering sympathetically 
 into all their sorrows, hopes and fears it must inevitably 
 enlarge its own capacity and elevate its character. Just 
 as the heavens increase in radiance proportionate to the 
 multiplication of stars that gleam in their vault; just as 
 the winds increase in fragrance according to the extent 
 of sweet-scented fields over which they blow; and just as 
 the river grows in fullness, the greater the number of 
 streams that flow into its bosom, so life must become 
 more luminous, more fragrant and more complete the 
 more it admits the hopes of others to a place in its sky, 
 and mingles the griefs and cares of others in its floods. 
 The mother is conscious of an expansiveness of soul, and 
 of a peculiar personal elevation that comes with her self- 
 surrender for her child. And the more she denies herself 
 the pleasures of society, when they seem to conflict with 
 devotion to her offspring, the more ennobled does she feel, 
 and, in reality, the more ennobled she is. Another star 
 glitters in the azure of her love, and though a tiny one, 
 it brightens the path of her feet. The man who is en- 
 tirely absorbed in business, who has no thought beyond 
 its marts, and no ambition higher than its gains, may, in 
 many respects, be very estimable, but obviously his spirit- 
 ual stature cannot be as great, nor his capacity for enjoy- 
 ment be as large, as they would be were he steadfastly to 
 make his temporal affairs directly tributary to the well- 
 being of humanity. In the former case he becomes grad- 
 
362 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 ually assimilated to the dryness, hardness and narrowness 
 of his pursuits; but in the latter, like Lorenzo De' Medici, 
 he grows toward the fair or grand ideal for the actualiza- 
 tion of which he cheerfully endures the daily round of 
 monotonous toil and care. Hence it is that in trade 
 and commercial circles we frequently meet with men who 
 tower above their associates, and whose presence carries 
 with it sunshine and peace. They are poets, artists, saints 
 or scholars in their instincts; they desire to beautify, 
 sanctify and enlighten the race; and swayed by this pas- 
 sion they rise early, retire late, and submit to all kinds of 
 self-denial that means may be procured for its gratifica- 
 tion, and in doing this they themselves become beautified, 
 sanctified and enlightened. 
 
 During my various wanderings in the old world I have 
 frequently been reminded of this truth. There are ancient 
 churches in Europe which the American traveler soon 
 learns to venerate, not merely because they are the shrines 
 of Deity, but because they have become the memorials of 
 human greatness. Indeed, God is less thought of than 
 man within the sacred walls of Westminster, Santa Croce, 
 and the French Pantheon. There, mingling with the dust 
 of kings and princes, rest the honored ashes of the martyr- 
 heroes both of science and religion, the explorers of na- 
 ture's mysteries, the prophets of the world's progress. 
 And yet these were the very men whose names were cast 
 out as evil by their own times, who were derided as fanat- 
 ics and dreamers, who were denounced as disturbers and 
 iconoclasts, who were pitied by friends and hated by ene- 
 mies, whose senseless remains are now entombed in so 
 much state. Verily, the fanatics of one age become the 
 gods of another, and the dreamy enthusiasts of the past 
 are the sober commonplaces of the present. In London, 
 Paris and Florence the same moral appears between the 
 lines of epitaphs penned by the descendants of persecutors 
 
EUROPEANS AND AMERICANS. 363 
 
 in commemoration of the persecuted: "Whoever will lose 
 his life shall save it"; for who can doubt that Dante, Gal- 
 ileo, Copernicus, Bruno, Columbus, and the rest of their 
 fraternity, gained more in their consciousness of personal 
 superiority, and derived more satisfaction from their ex- 
 alted thoughts, than they sacrificed in temporal estate, 
 even as they have risen to such a height of dignity and 
 power as more than compensates for all they surrendered 
 or endured. 
 
 Conversing recently with an acquaintance at Dresden 
 on continental habits, surprise was expressed that Ameri- 
 cans were so indifferent to the attractions of the cafe and 
 the open-air concert. It was said that they made life 
 too serious, and deprived themselves unnecessarily of 
 many of its pleasures. The criticism and the censure on 
 the surface seem to be just, and yet they are not as con- 
 clusive as they appear. Compare life on both continents, 
 and the opinion of our critic will hardly stand. In reality 
 he assumes that the end of human existence is the cafe or 
 the concert-garden. The average European performs his 
 appointed task patiently, if not cheerfully, and if he can 
 sip his wine or beer and hear music, — music, by the way, 
 not infrequently of an excruciating type, — he is satisfied. 
 That he calls " living," and, in the meanwhile, he permits 
 himself to be drafted into armies, consents to pay enor- 
 mous taxes for the support of senseless royalty, and grubs 
 along from the cradle to the grave with a benumbed con- 
 sciousness of what he is and what he should be. Such 
 people may live more years than the average American, 
 but they do not live as much in any or all of them as he. 
 He does not regard amusement as the chief end of man, 
 but liberty, culture, mental and spiritual growth, the ser- 
 vice of God, and the elevation of his fellow-beings. As a 
 consequence, his experiences are more diversified, his re- 
 sources more varied, and his existence more complex and 
 
364 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 complete. What he loses is not worthy of consideration 
 in view of what he gains. Better, far better, sacrifice 
 seductive pleasures, pleasures that emasculate, and that 
 perpetuate dull submission to oppressive systems, if by 
 doing so the sense of freedom, of personal independence, 
 and of responsibility for the condition of others may be 
 won. This is the choice of our people, and I think his- 
 tory proves that it is never successfully made where time 
 and thought are to any extent bestowed on sentient indul- 
 gencies and dissipating follies. If the citizens of any 
 country would save their highest life, and the only life 
 worth living, they must be willing to lose their lowest, 
 and which, after all, is not worth preserving. I need not 
 attempt to show you how this principle is confirmed in our 
 Savior's history, or that it is the most obvious teaching 
 of the New Testament. He who was made poor is now 
 rich; He who bore the cross on earth is now seated on the 
 throne in heaven; He who was embraced of death is now 
 alive forevermore; He who, in Peter's judgment, ought to 
 have had more mercy on Himself has convinced His err- 
 ing servant that He really did compassionate Himself 
 when He chose to ascend the hill of shame; for that, and 
 that alone, led to the height of glory. 
 
 From this line of thought it is not difficult to perceive 
 that a man can come to feel real delight in the gift of ex- 
 istence, and can attain to conscious enjoyment of the life 
 to which he has been called by God. Of the refined and 
 elevating nature of this enjoyment there can be no doubt, 
 and the only question that remains to be considered is 
 whether as a motive to action it is commendable and 
 legitimate. Or, to frame the inquiry differently, whether 
 we may with propriety be influenced by considerations of 
 our own well being to seek the well being of others? 
 Altruists think not. They argue that a subtle selfishness 
 is interwoven with all such considerations ; that every 
 
THE UNSELFISH MOTIVE. 365 
 
 kind of motive impairs the character of virtue, and that 
 duty should be performed simply because it ought to be 
 performed. To Christian people this seems to be an ex- 
 treme view to take of the matter; nor can they see how 
 the idea of motive is to be eliminated from right conduct. 
 For instance, is not the very sense of oughtness, on which 
 the Altruist lays so much stress, in itself a motive of the 
 weightiest kind? If that ceased to control, would not 
 practical righteousness fall into decay ? But whether we 
 regard it as a motive or not, we believe that it is right to 
 do good to those around us; and it cannot be denied that 
 the reasons we have for this belief are equally conclusive 
 in favor of our doing good to ourselves. Altruists and all 
 agree that it would be contrary to nature for us not to 
 have concern for the happiness of the race, and it is 
 equally evident that it would be no less contrary to nature 
 for us to be indifferent to our own. The instinct of self- 
 preservation, the horror we have of suicidal recklessness, 
 and the contempt we feel for those slatternly individuals 
 who are heedless of their standing and influence, suffi- 
 ciently prove that the obligation to seek in some sense 
 our own is an everlasting reality. It has always been 
 more or less of a problem to know how this can be done, 
 and the individual at the same time be preserved from 
 utter and irremediable selfishness; and when it is shown 
 that it can be effected by devotion to the interests of 
 those around us the practical philanthropy involved in the 
 method certainly justifies and glorifies the motive. There- 
 fore I am convinced that this motive is.not fairly open to 
 the objections which are so freely pronounced by Altruists, 
 and that in being influenced by it we are neither degrad- 
 ing ourselves nor corrupting the idea of virtue. 
 
 Thomas a Kempis, writing on the duty of self-renuncia- 
 tion, exclaims: "O Lord, this is not the work of one day, 
 nor children's sport; yea, rather in this short word is in- 
 
366 ISMS OLD AND NEW. 
 
 eluded all perfection." It is well that we lay this thought 
 to heart. With honesty of purpose we may decide hence- 
 forward to practice the law of self-denial, but never having 
 measured the difficulties in the way we may speedily be 
 discouraged. Our egoism, our self-love, and the example 
 of multitudes around us, may suggest the hopelessness of 
 the undertaking, and we may be driven back to our old 
 self-seeking and to the degradation of self-worship. We 
 may escape this sad experience if we will but remember 
 what a Kempis teaches, that such a life is "not the work 
 of one day," and that, consequently, we should not aban- 
 don our sublime task because we meet with defeats and 
 failures in its performance. Persevere; exercise yourselves 
 continually unto self-renunciation, and gradually will you 
 overcome all obstacles to a complete conformity to Him 
 who "loved us and who gave Himself for us." 
 
 If you can only be persuaded by what has been said to 
 undertake this, " the life of the Son of Man in the flesh," 
 you will soon cease to question its moral grandeur. The 
 staleness and monotony will speedily disappear, and you 
 will realize that you have at last discovered the secret of 
 its jorofit and its power. Instead of being a burden it will 
 be a blessing to you; the bloom will return to its cheek, 
 the luster to its eye, the dew to its forehead. You will 
 rejoice to possess it; you will delight in its experiences; 
 you will be glad in its trials. Life will be to you entirely 
 different from what it has been; it will be invested with a 
 new charm, a fresh beauty, a solemn glory. Yea, you will 
 be led repeatedly to exclaim: "That which was lost is 
 found, and the dead is alive again." Rejoicing in its sal- 
 vation, you will contemplate its close with hope, believing 
 that that which has yielded you so much satisfaction here 
 will multiply your joys hereafter. You will look for the 
 life on earth to wreathe crowns for the life in glory, and 
 you will part from it below sustained by the prospect of 
 
LIFE IN DEATH. 367 
 
 greeting it above. In this sweet confidence may you 
 abide, my reader; may each day be filled with music, and 
 each night with peace; and when the hour of separation 
 comes may your blood-washed soul chant in tenderest 
 strains the fond adieu: 
 
 " Life ! we've been long together, 
 Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 
 'Tis hard to part when friends are dear, — 
 Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear; 
 Then steal away, give little warning, 
 Choose thine own time ; 
 
 Say not "Good Night"— but in some brighter clime 
 Bid me "Good Morning." 
 
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 Sketches. By Benj. F. Taylor. Illustrated. 121110, cloth, #1.50. 
 
 "One of the most elegant, as well as pungent and rich, specimens of wit and 
 humor extant."— New York Illustrated Weekly. 
 
 " Brings you very near to nature and life in their pleasantest moods wherever you 
 may happen to be."— E. P. Whipple, Esq., in the Boston Globe 
 
 " Few equal Mr. Taylor as a word-painter. He fascinates with his artistic 
 touches, and exhilarates with his sparkling humor, and subdues with his sweet 
 pathos. His sentences glisten like gems in the sunlight. -Albany Journal. 
 
rUBLICATIOXS OF S. C. GRIGGS &> CO., CHICAGO. 
 
 WHEELER -THE FOREIGNER IN CHINA. By L N. 
 
 Wheeler, D. D. With introduction by Prof. W. C. Sawyer, 
 Ph. D. i2mo, cloth, $1.25. 
 
 The simplest, clearest and most complete statement of the relations 
 of China and the Chinese to Western civilization to be found in the 
 English tongue. Ready in Sept., 1 88 1. 
 
 WINCHELL-PREADAMITES: or, A Demonstration of 
 
 the Existence of Men before Adam ; together with a Study of their 
 Condition, Antiquity, Racial Affinities, and Progressive Dispersion 
 over the Earth. With Charts and other Illustrations. By Alexander 
 Winchell, LL. D., Prof, of Geology and Palaeontology in the Uni- 
 versity of Michigan ; Author of " Sketches of Creation," etc. 8vo, 
 cloth, $3.50. 
 
 " A remarkable and powerful contribution to the reconciliation of the Bible and 
 modern science." — Literary World, Boston. 
 
 " One of the most noteworthy contributions to an important branch of the great 
 controversy of our day that has been given to the world in either hemisphere." — 
 Montreal Gazette. 
 
 "The work is popular in its best sense — attractive in style, clear in exposition, 
 and eminently instructive. . . It is not too much to say that it settles the con- 
 troversy." — Popi4lar Science Monthly. 
 
 " It is not too much to say th a t there is no single work in our language which 
 brings together so much of the latest investigations concerning the tribes of men 
 inhabiting our planet, and their distribution over the continents."— The American 
 Naturalist. 
 
 WINCHELL -SPARKS FROM A GEOLOGIST'S HAM- 
 MER. By Alexander Winchell, LL. D„ Professor of Geology 
 and Palaeontology in the University of Michigan, Author of "Pre- 
 Adamites," "Sketches of Creation," etc. Illustrated. 121110, cloth, $2. 
 A progressive series of papers adapted to convey to the general 
 reader, in attractive style^ the fullest and latest results of scientific 
 investigation with reference to the history of our planet. Ready 
 in October, 1881.