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 BX 5937 .L3 V5 
 Lawrence, William, 1850- 
 
 1941 . 
 Visions and service 
 
VISIONS AND SERVICE 
 
 FOURTEEN DISCOURSES DELIVERED 
 IN COLLEGE CHAPELS 
 
 7. 
 
 WILLIAM LAWRENCE 
 
 BISHOP OF MASSACHUSETTS 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
Copyright, 1896, 
 By WILLIAM LAWRENCE. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S.A, 
 Electrotyped and Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. 
 
TO 
 
 MY WIFE 
 
 1 INSCRIBE THIS VOLUME 
 
 $ 
 
NOTE 
 
 A RESIDENCE of ten years in Cambridge 
 under the shadow of its great University 
 binds one to the students with strong ties of 
 affection. A ma?i cannot come into contact with 
 them daily without gaijiing confidence in their 
 high purpose, respect for their character, sym- 
 pathy iti their doubts and tenptatiofis, and a 
 reverence for their love of truth, their chivalry 
 and their simple faith. Many of the intel- 
 lectual and religious problems which they en- 
 counter ca?i be fought out only by hard thinking 
 and deep discussion. But zvhen they come to 
 Church I believe they want to hear from one 
 who, sympathizing with their difficulties, speaks 
 the most simple, sincere, and strong words of 
 the Christia7t faith. 
 
 In the earnest hope of helping to a firmer 
 faith and a higher life some young men in 
 Cambridge, as well as other members of a be- 
 loved congregation, the words in this volume 
 were spoken. Perhaps they may help a few 
 at a distance. 
 
NOTE 
 
 These sermons were preached by me while 
 Dean of the Episcopal Theological School and 
 also Preacher to Harvard University^ in St. 
 John's Memorial Chapel, in the Chapel of the 
 University, and in other Collegiate Chapels. 
 
 WILLIAM LAWRENCE. 
 Boston, /awwary /, iBqb. 
 
 vi 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. The Young Man's Vision i 
 
 II. The Challenge of Jesus 19 
 
 III. The Fixedness of Character .... 35 
 
 IV. The Worth of One Fact 53 
 
 V. A Skilful Defence 68 
 
 VI. The Unchangeableness and the 
 
 Changeableness of Faith .... 85 
 
 VII. The Priests' Taunt 104 
 
 VIII. Three Characters 122 
 
 IX. The University Man in Active Life . 138 
 
 X. Jesus in His Own City 156 
 
 XI. Heavenly-Mindedness 173 
 
 XII. Privilege and Helpfulness 189 
 
 XIII. A Key-Note of College Life .... 202 
 
 XIV. A Servant of His Own Generation . 218 
 
VISIONS AND SERVICE 
 
 THE YOUNG MAN's VISION ^ 
 
 There was war between Syria and 
 Israel. The king of Syria had attempted 
 to surprise the camp of the Israelites 
 several times, but on each occasion the 
 army of Israel had been forewarned and 
 had escaped. 
 
 The Syrian king suspected those in 
 his own camp of treachery. Upon call- 
 ing his men about him, however, and 
 asking for the traitor, he was told that 
 the spy was not among his followers. 
 " But," said they, " Elisha, the prophet 
 that is in Israel, telleth the King of 
 Israel the words that thou speakest in 
 thy bed-chamber." 
 
 Such a magician must be seized. 
 
 " Go and spy where he is," was the 
 
 1 St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, Sep- 
 tember 29, 1S89. 
 
 I 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 command of the Syrian king. Elisha 
 was at Dothan, with a young man, his 
 servant. The expedition for the capture 
 sets out in the night — " horses and 
 chariots and a great host" — and sur- 
 rounds Dothan. In the early morning 
 the servant of Elisha, as he is going out 
 of the house, catches sight of the army 
 about the city, and hurries back with the 
 cry, "Alas, my master, how shall we 
 do ? " But the prophet, though unarmed 
 and with only one panic-stricken servant 
 to protect him, is not moved by the host 
 of the enemy. " Fear not," he says, 
 " for they that be with us are more than 
 they that be with them." 
 
 The young man cannot catch his mean- 
 ing ; he sees no friendly army, no horses 
 or chariots marching to their relief, no- 
 thing but the hostile forces. And yet the 
 prophet seems to have some power some- 
 where to support him. " And Elisha 
 prayed, and said. Lord, I pray thee open 
 his eyes that he may see. And the Lord 
 opened the eyes of the young man ; and 
 he saw ; and behold the mountain was 
 full of horses and chariots of fire round 
 about Elisha." ^ 
 
 ^ 2 Kings vi. 17. 
 2 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 There was a power there. To the eye 
 of faith the heavenly host was visible, 
 standing behind and around, and giving 
 its support. 
 
 I have chosen this incident for our 
 study, this morning, because it seems 
 to suggest some thoughts in connection 
 with this our first Sunday of the open- 
 ing term of school and college ; a Sun- 
 day which has a significance to all of 
 us, for it strikes the note of another 
 year of routine and duty in home, busi- 
 ness, and society. 
 
 And by coincidence there is a special 
 meaning in this incident to-day, for this 
 Sunday happens to fall upon the Feast 
 of St. Michael and all Angels ; a day 
 when the church lifts up her eyes to 
 the realization of the heavenly host, 
 their number, their power, their order, 
 and their glory. Michaelmas is the title 
 that appropriately marks the opening 
 term of the universities of England. 
 
 Here, in the scene, we have a young 
 man panic-stricken at the power of the 
 enemy, led by the prayer of the older 
 man to an upward look, and to open his 
 eyes to the heavenly forces that were 
 standing ready to protect and fight for 
 3 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 the servant of God. In this, we catch 
 the first thought, that the forces, limit- 
 less in number and power, were there, 
 waiting only for one of spiritual vision 
 to reveal them. Perhaps at first sight 
 this seems unreal, mystical, and unprac- 
 tical. And yet is it not similar to many 
 phases of life .'' 
 
 It is a commonplace, for instance, that 
 the enormous increase in men's use of 
 the forces in nature is not due to man's 
 creation, but to his discovery of what 
 was already in nature. The electric 
 forces which are now at work in our 
 streets and homes, and which are caus- 
 ing such readjustment of our habits of 
 life, are not new creations. The latent 
 powers were there, waiting only for the 
 patient labor, the skill and the scientific 
 spirit of man to reveal them and har- 
 ness them into man's service. Or, again, 
 as the flood of young and eager life 
 poured into this city last week, they 
 knew that in the library and lectures and 
 historic heritages here are storehouses 
 of knowledge and wisdom. It is for this 
 they have come. But if they thought at 
 all, they must have realized that these 
 riches revealed themselves only to those 
 4 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 who were ready to open their eyes to 
 them, and by patient study bring them 
 into their Hves. 
 
 Now the question arises whether there 
 is not something analogous to this in the 
 realm of character and of spiritual things. 
 Are we to agree that there are limitless 
 resources in nature and in knowledge, 
 and deny that character and spiritual 
 manhood have any such storehouse ? 
 Or, are we to accept the fact that the 
 heavenly powers are, and that they stand 
 ready to serve any man who will discover 
 them and call them to his aid ? 
 
 Here, it seems to me, is to be found 
 the dividing line between those who are 
 going to use and those who are going to 
 misuse the coming year, — whether in 
 college, business, or the home, — in the 
 question whether they are going to trust 
 only to what they have, their present 
 strength, character, social position, and 
 money, or whether they are going to live 
 with the realization that there are infi- 
 nite powers of character and spirit be- 
 hind and above them ; whether they are 
 going to look only at the enemy, the 
 temptations and trials of life, or whether, 
 with the power of those realized, they 
 5 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 are going to seek heavenly strength to 
 defeat them. 
 
 It is here, I think, that the talk of 
 college temptations, of which we hear 
 and read so much, reveals a weak spot 
 in the Christian armor of to-day. There 
 is in it something of the panic-stricken 
 servant, " Alas, my master, how shall we 
 do ? " There are college temptations, 
 we know too well. There may be a very 
 few dastardly spirits who delight in lead- 
 ing others into temptation. There are 
 weak youths ; and — must we say it .-' — 
 there are weak parents. There are dan- 
 gers enough in all phases of life. But 
 what the Christian thought needs to-day 
 is, with the realization of the force of the 
 enemy, a far stronger faith in the force 
 of character ; the upward look, the con- 
 viction that if a man will only set him- 
 self to see into and call down those 
 heavenly powers to his aid, he has a rein- 
 forcement which is able to overcome any 
 temptation. 
 
 What are these forces ? Let me name 
 a few : they are familiar to our ears, but 
 not familiar enough in our personal ex- 
 perience. There is, as the fundamental 
 6 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 power, the truth that God is ; that the 
 Almighty, the Jehovah, the Heavenly 
 Father, now lives and works and loves. 
 Perhaps we do not think of it often in 
 this way. Yet, after all, it is the assur- 
 ance of God's existence that is our deep- 
 est and final support. Cut it out from 
 your life, and what have you but chaos .-* 
 Bring it into your life, not as a common- 
 place, but as a vital truth, and you have 
 this, that as God is Truth, and Love, 
 and Wisdom, you have, if you abide in 
 God's presence, the whole power of 
 Truth, Love, and Wisdom to back you. 
 You have an infinite storehouse from 
 which to draw. From Him cometh, and 
 may come, in these months, if we seek 
 them, every good and perfect gift. 
 
 Again, there is the fact that the Son 
 of God once walked this earth, and that 
 He lived a spotless life ; and, having 
 tasted for man the sufferings and ills 
 common to men, and having conquered 
 sin and death, now lives, and sitting on 
 the right hand of the Father, is forever 
 the type of the perfect humanity, and 
 the inspiration to all men to live as in 
 His presence. Imagine for a moment, if 
 you can, the facts and the power of the 
 7 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 life of Jesus cut out, eliminated from 
 history and modern civilization, and 
 from the lives of men, and what have 
 you of character and moral fibre and all 
 that goes to make up the best of hu- 
 manity ? The fact of the Incarnation of 
 the Son of God is, however, a truth from 
 which the world has only begun to draw. 
 There are infinite possibilities still un- 
 fathomed. 
 
 The truth of the brooding of the Holy 
 Spirit over the lives of men, and of His 
 waiting to touch them with the fire of 
 divine love, has hardly yet been ex- 
 plored. 
 
 Again, there is that great army of 
 apostles, saints, and martyrs, who by 
 noble lives and perhaps nobler deaths 
 have given their testimony to the truth 
 of Jesus. The Christian who meets with 
 any enemy knows that he has behind 
 him their sympathy and example. There 
 are, too, those mysterious beings and 
 powers of which this day speaks, ten 
 thousand times ten thousand, angels and 
 archangels, all ministering spirits. What- 
 ever your theory may be about them, 
 they stand for heavenly, spiritual forces 
 waiting to come to the aid of men. 
 8 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 It is of them that we read in great 
 spiritual crises. They break the silence 
 of the first Christmas night, and are the 
 first to speak from the empty tomb on 
 Easter morning. They minister to the 
 Saviour after His victories over the 
 tempter in the wilderness and in Geth- 
 semane. And in the midst of His 
 betrayal there stand twelve legions of 
 angels ready to come at His bidding. 
 
 These are only hints and suggestions. 
 No word of man can describe the wealth 
 of spiritual resource that is at the bid- 
 ding of any Christian. My point is only 
 to emphasize the truth that it is a dull 
 and spiritless life that looks forward to a 
 year of simply holding one's own against 
 the temptations of life. We are alto- 
 gether too ready to regret that virtue 
 and religion must have a struggle in 
 these days to survive at all. We then 
 settle down to the average tone, feeling 
 that if we are not wholly overcome by 
 the enemy, we are doing well enough. 
 Whereas, with such spiritual resources 
 to draw from, with powers about us wait- 
 ing for us to seize them and bring them 
 into service, we could gather to ourselves 
 such a force of character, of moral 
 9 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 strength and spiritual purpose, as would 
 confound the enemies that now look so 
 powerful. 
 
 It is strange how the best powers are 
 unrecognized because they are unher- 
 alded. To estimate the character of 
 many young men as they appear on the 
 surface, some might say that they were 
 wholly thoughtless ; some might say that 
 they were cynical and bad. Some do 
 say all these. I believe it to be true, 
 however, that there are very few who 
 do not have beneath that superficial 
 manner, certainly in their more serious 
 moments, when they are most them- 
 selves, a real desire to do better and to be 
 stronger and purer and more useful than 
 they are. They would like to draw some 
 of the heavenly forces to their aid ; they 
 do not realize that their classmates and 
 friends are desiring the same ; so they 
 drop down to the average. But if the 
 hearts of all those who want more of 
 the heavenly vision and power should 
 be revealed, we should stand amazed at 
 their number. 
 
 Thus far I have been trying to em- 
 phasize the fact of the heavenly powers, 
 and of a desire in many for them. The 
 
 lO 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 question now comes before us, How is 
 the vision to be gained, and how are the 
 powers to be brought into service ? 
 
 The answer is in the text : " And Eli- 
 sha prayed and said, Lord, I pray thee 
 open his eyes." 
 
 Prayer ; and yet I do not understand 
 by this, merely formal verbal prayer. In 
 it is first the upward look, the heavenly 
 determination in life and hope. The 
 resources of nature reveal themselves 
 only to him who has an eye for them and 
 a patient determination to seek them. 
 The secrets of knowledge are an open 
 vision only to the student. The powers 
 of heaven wait for the bidding of him 
 who has the look and the aim toward 
 heavenly things. Let a man realize ever 
 so vividly the danger of the temptations 
 about him, and if he have no desire for 
 strength of character, he is helpless. 
 Let a man long for purity and the attain- 
 ment of high ideals, and if his life and 
 talk are of the earth, earthy, the ideals 
 are impossible. Let a man envy the 
 faith of others, their usefulness and their 
 highmindedness, and if he do not look 
 upward to Him from whom come all 
 these gifts, he will die envying another 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 for graces which he has made no effort 
 to gain. 
 
 Here is the crucial point. We want 
 the heavenly forces to back us. Have 
 we the determination to drag them down 
 to our aid .-' Have we the patience to so 
 frame our thoughts and lives that we 
 can call them .-* In other words, if you 
 want to grow in character this year, if 
 you want to keep pure and true, if you 
 want to have the strength to meet temp- 
 tation, you must do as in everything 
 else, keep on the alert for it ; form habits 
 which will help you towards it. 
 
 Young men, and older men too, drop 
 prayer and worship and all regular reli- 
 gious habits for years, and are then sur- 
 prised some day to wake up to the fact 
 that they have lost their faith. Then 
 they lay the blame on the Church, on an 
 uninteresting preacher, or on their cir- 
 cumstances, on anything but themselves. 
 Of course they have lost their faith ; 
 faith would not be worth the having if it 
 could be kept with such neglect. No ! 
 as you value your faith, your God and 
 your Saviour, as you look for a nobler and 
 better character, keep the spiritual eye 
 upward. Pray when and where you will, 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 but pray as a habit. The heavenly eye 
 must be kept trained and adjusted to 
 heavenly visions if it would gain any- 
 thing from them. Habit, patient deter- 
 mined habit, is the basis of the best 
 characters and of the largest revelations ; 
 habit that is never allowed to master the 
 spirit, but that serves the spirit in lead- 
 ing up to higher and higher standpoints. 
 Hold on to your habit of worship. Sun- 
 day after Sunday, join with others in 
 prayer and praise ; and so stimulate the 
 spiritual vigor which may have abated in 
 the week. 
 
 Thus far I have been speaking of our- 
 selves and of our own spiritual enforce- 
 ment. But the question arises as to 
 what place this truth has in our relation 
 to other people ; in trying, for instance, 
 to do our duty by our friends or our 
 children. 
 
 When you see your old schoolmate, or 
 your present classmate or fellow clerk 
 or companion, gradually drifting away 
 from religious habits, and then from re- 
 ligious life ; when you watch him weak- 
 ening in his convictions of right and 
 wrong, of purity and honor; and you 
 
 13 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 know that the powers of the world, the 
 love of popularity, of a good time, or of 
 money are looming up in front of him ; 
 when you long to stand behind him 
 and warn him and brace him up and 
 bring him back to faith and purity, how 
 are you going to do it ? Will you 
 simply tell him that he ought to turn 
 over a new leaf and do better ? Will 
 you urge him to go to church with you ? 
 Will you ask him to give his soul to 
 Jesus ? 
 
 You may do one or all of these. But 
 I tell you that before these touch or help 
 him he is going to look you in the eye. 
 He is going to look you through and 
 through, and if he discovers any falter- 
 ing of faith on your part, if he learns that 
 some of the same weaknesses attach 
 to you that you have found in him ; 
 if he sees not in your life the strength 
 of character, the simplicity, the calm 
 assurance which comes from real ex- 
 perience, your words are worse than use- 
 less. But if your life and character tell 
 of heavenly powers gained, of truth and 
 honor behind and around you, of sincer- 
 ity and humility, then who knows what 
 heavenly visions he may have, what 
 14 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 warnings of conscience, what shame, 
 what repentance, what hope ? 
 
 Or again, when the young man of 
 earnest thought and love of truth comes 
 to you panic-stricken at the waning or 
 loss of his old child-faith, when some read- 
 ing or study has startled him for the first 
 time to really doubt and deny his old 
 creed, even all Christian truth, as he turns 
 to you with the feeling that as you are 
 a Christian in profession he may claim 
 you as his guide, with the cry, "Alas, 
 my master, how shall we do ? " what have 
 you for an answer ? Merely the cold 
 statement that these are days when 
 faiths are easily lost ; that you have not 
 much yourself ; that he will have to get 
 along without it ? Will you tell him 
 that skepticism is in the air, is infec- 
 tious ; that he will get over it after a 
 while ? Or have prayer and heavenly 
 aspirations so enriched your life that 
 the young man catches in your charac- 
 ter glimpses of the heavenly powers, 
 and sees the possibilities of his own 
 life ; forgets his loss of faith through 
 despair, and calls to his service those 
 forces which only Heaven can send 
 him ? 
 
 15 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 I have been speaking mostly to the 
 younger people, but I cannot shut my 
 eyes to the fact that there are others 
 than young people in this congregation. 
 
 I turn to you parents, who are or who 
 ought to be the interpreters of the hea- 
 venly life to your children. When your 
 boy comes to you with his first direct 
 question, when he searches your faith to 
 its foundation with that honest inquiry 
 as to the meaning of your prayers, your 
 creed, and your worship, are you going 
 to throw him off by telling him to ask 
 his Sunday-school teacher or his min- 
 ister, or not to bother about such things .? 
 He will bother about them. He will 
 ask. And those questions must be an- 
 swered by men and books of unbelief if 
 he gets no response from a man of be- 
 lief. Then is your opportunity ; are you 
 able to seize it ? Is your faith in the 
 heavenly life real and strong and deep 
 enough to lift him out of his questions 
 into assurance ? Is the response of your 
 life consistent with the answer of your 
 lips } While you talk of heavenly things, 
 do you live the heavenly life .-' While 
 you urge him to the upward look, to 
 the realization of the powers of right- 
 i6 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 eousness and truth, are your eyes too 
 uplifted ? And are these same powers 
 backing your life in business, society, and 
 politics ? I tell you that the boy's ques- 
 tion strikes deep, and only a life can 
 reveal the answer. So, my friends, we 
 are all interpreters, revealers of the hea- 
 venly powers to men ; all Elishas unfold- 
 ing visions of spiritual ambitions and 
 armies of spiritual powers. This is the 
 glory of the ministry, that its whole work 
 is the revealing to men by word and life 
 the truths and the forces of the heavenly 
 life. It is the prophet's or the preacher's 
 mission. Aye, it is the mission of every 
 man, minister, teacher, parent ; the point- 
 ing upward, the revealing of the limit- 
 less resources of the spiritual world, the 
 bringing of those forces to the develop- 
 ment of character, and the increase of 
 strength to overcome the enemy. 
 
 As our closing thought let us follow 
 to its end the story. " And behold, the 
 mountain was full of horses and chariots 
 of fire round about Elisha. And when 
 they came down to him," " the Lord 
 smote the Syrians with blindness," and 
 Elisha led them captive to Samaria and 
 delivered them to the king of Israel. 
 17 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S VISION 
 
 Given a man of faith and the heavenly 
 powers behind him, and you have untold 
 possibilities. History is full of such in- 
 stances ; men and women, single-handed, 
 but with the heavenly vision, effecting 
 what armies could hardly accomplish. 
 Trusting in the heavenly powers, Lu- 
 ther roused the heart of Europe against 
 the tyranny of the Pope. By faith Lati- 
 mer, when led to the stake, cheered his 
 companions with the assurance that they 
 should light such a candle in England as 
 would never be put out. In obedience 
 to his heavenly insight, Livingstone 
 entered the heart of Africa and led the 
 Christian world to realize the degrada- 
 tion and slavery of the dark continent. 
 By the open vision of the young man, 
 Gordon led the hosts in China and be- 
 came a martyr in Soudan. By faith 
 Patteson and Hannington and Father 
 Damien have given to this century the 
 types of Christian heroism. 
 
 Keep, therefore, your eye upon the 
 heavenly powers ; call them to your ser- 
 vice, and with them around you take up 
 the routine and the duties of life. . 
 
II 
 
 THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS ^ 
 
 John the Baptist's work was done. 
 The popular enthusiasm for him had 
 passed ; forsaken by the crowd, almost 
 friendless, imprisoned, nothing remained 
 for him in this life but the death sen- 
 tence of Herod and the axe of the ex- 
 ecutioner. The last message had just 
 passed from the Baptist to Jesus, and 
 His answer was on its way to the dun- 
 geon. As the people followed with their 
 eye the retiring figures of the messen- 
 gers of the imprisoned John, the mem- 
 ory of the scene of his preaching and 
 popularity must have swept over them ; 
 and the contrast of his position then and 
 now must have moved them, some to 
 pity, but the most of them to a disdain 
 of a man who had mounted, and for the 
 moment had rested on the crest of a 
 wave of popular enthusiasm, but who 
 
 1 Appleton Chapel, Harvard University, February 
 2, 1890. 
 
 19 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 had sunk, and was now imprisoned and 
 degraded. 
 
 Anticipating these thoughts, the Sa- 
 viour hastened to convince the people 
 that the faikire was with them, and not 
 with the Baptist ; that in their mistaken 
 view of his mission they had failed to 
 grasp the greatness of his character ; that 
 in going out to see a man who was the 
 object of popular applause, they had 
 neglected to see in him the elements 
 which, when the crisis came, threw pop- 
 ular applause to the winds. 
 
 " And when the messengers of John 
 were departed, He began to speak unto 
 the people concerning John, What went 
 ye out into the wilderness for to see ? 
 A reed shaken with the wind .'' But 
 what went ye out for to see ? A man 
 clothed in soft raiment ? Behold, they 
 which are gorgeously apparelled and 
 live delicately, are in kings' courts. But 
 what went ye out for to see .-* A pro- 
 phet ? Yea, I say unto you, and much 
 more than a prophet." ^ 
 
 Three types of character, — all of 
 them existing in the Baptist's day, all 
 of them existing in our day, — three 
 
 1 Luke vii. 24-26. 
 20 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 types, each of which appeals to every- 
 one of us, and claims our interest, and 
 may claim our lives. 
 
 "A reed shaken with the wind." 
 With those words, our memories, like the 
 memories of those who had stood on Jor- 
 dan's banks, run back to a summer's day, 
 when, as we have walked through some 
 meadow, or floated down some placid 
 stream, we have watched the stately 
 sedges and reeds sway and bend beneath 
 the moving air ; they seem to anticipate 
 the coming breeze before we feel it, and 
 prepare to bend their heads to avoid the 
 sharp or sudden blast ; graceful, yield- 
 ing, they right themselves, and swing 
 again to the changing air. 
 
 The perfect type of the pliable char- 
 acter. We have not time to describe it 
 as it was in the Baptist's day. There 
 are so many phases that interest us now 
 all about us. It is one of the admira- 
 ble features of culture that it adds to the 
 grace of living. The highly cultivated 
 man may have the same strong convic- 
 tions as the ignorant man, but he ex- 
 presses them in a gentler and more 
 sympathetic way, and so avoids the fric- 
 tion of hard and angular characters. 
 
 21 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 In these days, when popular opinion 
 gathers force so quickly, and moves in 
 such varied currents, and when the con- 
 victions and sentiments are so intricate 
 and so differently expressed, it is well, it is 
 necessary, that tact and grace and a wide 
 sympathy with other views should come 
 to the aid of strong opinion and help it 
 yield and bend in certain ways, though 
 standing firm by its deeper convictions. 
 But — and here is the point of the Sa- 
 viour's word — the danger comes when 
 yielding and pliability become the char- 
 acteristic of the man, and strength of 
 character is sapped in the effort to meet 
 every wave of popular opinion, and to 
 let it pass over without resistance. 
 
 One might almost say that this is the 
 danger of the nineteenth century, and 
 the temptation which above all besets 
 every boy and young man who has an 
 ambition in life. The rise of democracy 
 has put the power into the hands of the 
 people and of public opinion. He who 
 would succeed must be in touch with 
 the people, and sensitive to every move- 
 ment of public opinion. We know that 
 the manufacturer who expects to sell 
 his goods next year must already know, 
 
 22 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 or learn, or rather feel, what the people 
 are going to want next year ; and the 
 politician who is going to get office must 
 have already anticipated the popular 
 opinion on certain questions ; and so 
 with the smallest spheres of life. The 
 result is that, like some animals that can 
 feel the coming storm before they see it, 
 we are developing an extreme sensitive- 
 ness to popular movements and popular 
 opinion which may work to our safety, 
 and which often works to our destruc- 
 tion. This temptation to yield quietly 
 and gracefully to the breezes of popular 
 opinion — there is not one of us that 
 does not feel it. 
 
 We have seen a young man enter poli- 
 tics, and in the first years of his political 
 life stand as stiff and true under the 
 varying movements as the little reed 
 that is just springing from the meadow. 
 But as he rises into popular view and 
 feels more directly the waves of the 
 different parties and opinions, how he 
 droops and sways ! And who can tell 
 which way he will next swing .'' In his 
 political rise he has reached a position 
 where the waves of party affiliation and 
 policy have a much heavier weight than 
 23 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 any of us realize. His opinions are no 
 weaker, but the pressure is so much 
 heavier that his convictions have to 
 yield. 
 
 We have seen girls enter society, and 
 young men enter college life, and pass 
 through the same experience. At first 
 the ideas of the true life, though small 
 and narrow in some features, are clear 
 and strong. Home and school life and 
 parents' words have set the lines of right 
 and wrong. With the larger life of 
 society and college, however, principles 
 carried into action become more intricate 
 and definite, convictions more difficult. 
 Those whom we admire do what we 
 consider questionable, and those whom 
 others admire do what we believe is low 
 and degrading or wrong. Then comes 
 the shrinking from being considered 
 peculiar, from setting ourselves up as 
 stronger or better than the rest. What 
 right has one ugly reed to stand stiff 
 and upright, when all the others bend 
 gracefully to the breeze .-* And so we 
 bend ; we will not break, we say. Thus 
 we do the " correct thing ; " we create 
 no ill-feeling, we appear modest and 
 never self-assertive; we move in sym- 
 24 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 pathy with our comrades ; we strengthen 
 no one, and help no one to keep his 
 convictions, and gradually our principles 
 weaken. Unless, my friends, we guard 
 ourselves and keep true to our better 
 selves, and sometimes dare to stand 
 strong, we become the world's puppet ; 
 admired, and at the same time despised ; 
 to the popular view, respectable ; to the 
 view of all true men, and of your inner 
 self, simply despicable. 
 
 You know, and I know, men and 
 women to-day, whom we meet in society 
 and see in the clubs and on the streets, 
 who are not bad or grossly immoral ; 
 they are no worse than the public opin- 
 ion about them makes them, and no 
 better. They simply exist, and grace- 
 fully bend as they are moved. 
 
 Is it of one of us that Jesus speaks ? 
 A reed shaken with the wind .'' 
 
 " But what went ye out for to see .'' A 
 man clothed in soft raiment .'' " 
 
 It cannot be that this type exists in 
 modern life, we say. In those ancient 
 days when monarchs lived in royal state 
 and the people were ignorant, character 
 and position might have been measured 
 
 25 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 by the wealth of garments and houses 
 and the size of retinues. And in Europe, 
 we may still find the same. A social 
 caste, an aristocracy, create social ambi- 
 tions and all the sycophant's spirit which 
 goes with them. But in the democracy, 
 each man is measured by his worth, not 
 in houses and carriages and clothes, but 
 as a man of character. The people in 
 St. Petersburg, Berlin, and even in Lon- 
 don, may crowd out to see those who 
 are sumptuously apparelled and live in 
 kings' houses ; but we — we Americans 
 — flock and crowd about the man ; 
 we select the noblest character in the 
 community for our applause ; our news- 
 papers are full of the wise sayings and 
 ennobling words of the purest and most 
 intelligent and truest men in the land ; 
 we hear not of the people whose only 
 title to popular esteem is their income 
 and their houses and their dances. 
 
 Is it in sober truth, or in sarcasm, that 
 this is spoken .-' Let each man answer 
 for himself. 
 
 If one can figure popular interest by 
 
 the circulation of these newspapers which 
 
 treat of men and women clothed in soft 
 
 raiment, of those which are filled with 
 
 26 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 petty personalities and society gossip, 
 and talk about the silliest and weakest 
 and most despicable creatures in society, 
 I am afraid that our assertions of popu- 
 lar interest in the noble character must 
 be taken as sarcasm. The gossip of 
 kings' courts had some touch of char- 
 acter, for it dealt with historic interests 
 and real powers, though it dealt with 
 them in a mean way. And the thought 
 of an aristocracy has in it associations 
 with a noble past at least, though the 
 present be ignoble : but the reading by 
 the half hour and hour together of the 
 petty personalities of those whose only 
 distinction is that they have suddenly 
 become rich, the devouring of books that 
 treat of the silliest and not the strongest 
 and noblest characters in society makes 
 us ashamed of ourselves. 
 
 Oh ! ye upholders of democracy, where 
 man is man, and manhood is respected for 
 its own sake, what go ye out for to see ? 
 Do our newspapers, our small talk, and 
 much of our popular literature belie us .-' 
 Have we no nobler object of interest 
 than richly clothed men and women, and 
 no nobler ideal than to become as one 
 of them .'' In our weaker moments some 
 27 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 of US envy them, but at heart we despise 
 them, and despise ourselves for regard- 
 ing them. 
 
 But what went ye out for to see ? 
 A prophet ? 
 
 A prophet. We have a crude notion 
 of what that is — a man of severe mien, 
 strong but hard, denunciatory, unsympa- 
 thetic ; or one who, magician-like, fore- 
 tells events in the far future. 
 
 But surely there is something greater 
 and more vital in the true prophet than 
 foretelling events and denouncing sins. 
 The prophet is the speaker for God ; he 
 interprets to men the heart and thought 
 of God. Two features, therefore, belong 
 to him, which are not confined to the 
 days of Elijah or of John the Baptist, 
 or to the pulpit and the ordained 
 preachers of these days, but features 
 which may be in the possession of any 
 one, thus making him, up to the limit of 
 his powers, a Prophet ; and these are 
 the knowledge of God and the knowledge 
 of men. 
 
 A young man breaks from a maze of 
 doubts about God and religion into the 
 conviction that whatever else may be 
 28 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 true, righteousness is eternally right ; 
 and he lives by that. Soon he finds that 
 living by that law he is led into the 
 realm of truth, of purity, of love, of sac- 
 rifice, and of grateful service. Behind 
 all these he craves the fact of a person- 
 ality. And then by that same path, over 
 which millions have trod, he is led to the 
 faith in the personal God, the Heavenly 
 Father. From lame and halting aspira- 
 tions he is drawn to more direct and dis- 
 tinct prayer. Then, in that communion 
 which is more than prayer, he receives 
 from God his noblest hopes, his highest 
 ambitions, and his deepest truths. As 
 God whom he adores and with whom he 
 communes is perfectly pure, true, and 
 just, the man becomes sensitive to im- 
 purity, untruth, and injustice. As he 
 speaks or acts, so far as he is in com- 
 munion with God, he speaks or acts for 
 God. The man who thus knows God 
 does not necessarily ascend the pulpit 
 steps, nor stand like Elijah, or the Bap- 
 tist, before kings, but in the smaller circle 
 of his friends he speaks, and in the wider 
 circles of his acquaintances he acts. His 
 voice may find an echo in hearts at a 
 distance. In book and song and story 
 29 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 he may speak. But in all these, when 
 his voice sounds for the right and true, 
 he speaks for God ; he is God's pro- 
 phet. Coleridge, Maurice, Keble, and 
 Kingsley were prophets by their firesides 
 as well as through their books. Carlyle 
 also in his early days, Ruskin and Bright ; 
 aye, and many men whose voices have 
 never reached beyond their fireside or 
 the limits of their humble village, men 
 of God, peasants and miners and factory 
 hands, were prophets. For, by a close 
 and intimate communion, tested by years 
 of spiritual experience, they have known 
 God ; and when they have his word to 
 speak, they have uttered it with no un- 
 certain sound. 
 
 The prophet must have a knowledge 
 of men. For how can he speak to their 
 sins, their wants, or their ambitions, un- 
 less he know well what they are ? He 
 cannot stand apart ; but living, working, 
 enjoying, suffering with men, he will 
 probe to their innermost thoughts, and 
 with that instinct which comes with in- 
 timate knowledge, he will leap at their 
 most secret ambitions. As sensitive as 
 the tenderest reed to the coming breeze, 
 he will feel the coming social and reli- 
 3° 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 gious movements and will utter his sharp 
 note of warning or of hope. Study the 
 lives of those whom I have mentioned, 
 and you will see how we are living in 
 the sins and the blessings which those 
 men anticipated a generation ago. 
 
 I say that they are as sensitive as the 
 reed ; but — mark the difference — un- 
 like the reed, when it is a question of 
 right or wrong, they refuse to bend to 
 the popular breeze, but assert the right 
 of the man to stand. Aye ! so convinced 
 are they of God's truth that it is hardly 
 an effort to stand : for the principles of 
 God are so inwrought into their charac- 
 ters that they can do nothing but stand. 
 Their knowledge of men gives them the 
 tact, the insight, and the readiness to 
 bend when yielding is right ; their know- 
 ledge of God keeps them true and strong 
 when yielding is weak and not right. 
 
 Have we been wandering from our 
 thought .'' 
 
 What go ye out into life to see ? Surely 
 not a reed shaken with the wind. Far less 
 the man clothed in soft raiment. The 
 prophet ; he who, full of the divine life, 
 is true and strong ; and he who, intensely 
 31 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 interested in men, is full of sympathy, 
 grace, and tact. Prophets have not al- 
 ways been these ; sometimes they have 
 been hard, and under harsh treatment 
 have become embittered, and then they 
 cease to speak for God ; but these are 
 the qualities of the true prophet. 
 
 Now, if you will, go out into the world 
 and look for such men. You may find 
 one in the heyday of popularity and an- 
 other in lonely neglect, or perhaps some 
 young prophet who is soon to catch the 
 ears of the people, but who looks not 
 to their applause for his reward. Wher- 
 ever you discover them, you will see 
 those whom the world to-day needs 
 above all others, men of courage — cour- 
 age to speak their convictions and to 
 stand by them ; courage to meet defeat 
 of their dearest hopes in patience ; and, 
 what is sometimes harder, courage to 
 meet success without yielding a hair's 
 breadth in principle. You will find men 
 who esteem public opinion, but who will 
 never become its slave ; who are ready, 
 so far as they can consistently, to do 
 what is called the correct thing, but who 
 will always do the right thing ; men 
 who will risk popularity to denounce a 
 32 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 sin, and who will be socially ostracized, 
 if that is necessary, to uphold a virtue. 
 
 They will be men of hope. No cynic 
 or pessimist was ever a true prophet. 
 Such men live in the ills of the present. 
 But however evil the present may be, the 
 prophet always has God above and be- 
 hind him, and the conviction that some- 
 how, some day, God's light will break 
 forth before him. The prophets of old 
 to a man pointed forward to the brighter 
 day, to the coming of the Sun of Right- 
 eousness. 
 
 In all the turmoil of disappointed 
 hopes and unfulfilled ambitions of these 
 days, in the discontent and cynicism of 
 rich and poor alike, in the sins and sor- 
 rows and sufferings of our pushing civil- 
 ization, the voice that needs to be heard 
 above all others is that of the prophet of 
 hope and peace and relief. 
 
 Given the man of God, the man 
 among men, the man of courage and of 
 hope, and you have the leader of all true 
 men. 
 
 What go ye out for to see ? A reed 
 shaken with the wind ? a man clothed in 
 soft raiment ? A prophet ? 
 
 Oh, you who are young, whose lives 
 33 
 
THE CHALLENGE OF JESUS 
 
 will be moulded by your leaders ; who 
 are now looking here and there to see 
 what career you will mark out for your- 
 self ; you who are studying and talking 
 of the leaders of to-day in society, in the 
 professions, in public life, and in litera- 
 ture, listen to the challenge of Jesus : 
 Whom go ye out for to see ? Which 
 crowd will you join ? Which leader will 
 you take ? 
 
 34 
 
Ill 
 
 THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER^ 
 
 Science is teaching us what the pro- 
 phets tried to teach the people of their 
 day, that a man's life cannot be cut up 
 into separate parts which have no rela- 
 tion to each other. Life is a living 
 stream, and whatever pours into it be- 
 comes a part of its current, either for 
 good or for bad. We must go even 
 farther than this, and recognize the fact 
 that all human life, through its various 
 generations, is bound together, so that 
 each one of us is more or less the result 
 of the past. On this fact was founded 
 the old doctrine of original sin, and on 
 this is based the principle of heredity. 
 
 The people to whom the prophet Eze- 
 kiel preached recognized all this ; but 
 instead of using it as a motive for devel- 
 oping the good in themselves, they made 
 it an excuse for their wrong-doing. " Our 
 
 1 St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, March 
 S. 1893. 
 
 35 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 fathers, and not ourselves, are to blame 
 for our sins," was their cry. " Our fa- 
 thers have eaten sour grapes, and their 
 children's teeth are set on edge ; the 
 fathers have sinned, and the children 
 are not responsible for their sin." How- 
 familiar it all sounds ! It is the same ex- 
 cuse that we are hearing every day, — a 
 half truth, which becomes a lie when ex- 
 aggerated into the whole truth. There- 
 fore the prophet emphasized the other 
 side of the truth, the personal responsi' 
 bility of each man for his own sins or 
 righteousness. 
 
 "The soul that sinneth, it shall die. 
 The son shall not bear the iniquity of 
 the father, neither shall the father bear 
 the iniquity of the son. The righteous- 
 ness of the righteous shall be upon him, 
 and the wickedness of the wicked shall 
 be upon him." ^ 
 
 Each one of us, from birth to the grave, 
 is by thought, word, and action building 
 up his life, for bad or for good. Each 
 one of us is giving a set to his charac- 
 ter every moment that he lives, either 
 for evil or for righteousness. The 
 thought, then, that I want to bring out 
 ^ Ezekiel xviii. 20. 
 36 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 is that of the fixedness of character for 
 bad and for good. 
 
 Such a truth comes to us rather natu- 
 rally in these days, when the inexorable 
 laws of nature are so clearly brought be- 
 fore us in our scientific mode of thought. 
 The laws of our body are just as inexorable 
 as are the other laws of nature as seen in 
 geology or in botany. Any abuse of the 
 body, any sin against the laws of health, 
 is going to wreak its vengeance upon the 
 body just as surely as a burn is to make 
 a scar. Whether that sin was com- 
 mitted long ago or yesterday, whether 
 it is unknown to others or not, whether 
 the effects conceal themselves for years 
 or not, the fact stands that the scar is 
 there. Nature has been violated, and 
 nature will reassert itself. I do not 
 know that the scientific habit of mind 
 has any greater lesson to teach us, espe- 
 cially those who are young, than that 
 fact. We know how easily it is thrown 
 aside. The young are strong and vig- 
 orous, and their physiques will endure 
 many violations of the laws of self-re- 
 straint and temperance without showing 
 the result. Thus they are led to think 
 that the results are not there. What 
 37 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 they want to weigh in their minds is 
 this, that whether the results show them- 
 selves or not, they are bound to be. It 
 is in the neglect of this law that people 
 are liable to condone the sins of those 
 who are young, and to say that they are 
 not as bad as those of more mature years. 
 We thus fall into the philosophy that it 
 is the natural thing for the enthusiasms 
 and the high spirits of youth to work 
 themselves off in some form of license 
 or debauchery which would not be en- 
 dured in older men. So we drop into 
 the habit of expecting that wild oats will 
 be sown, and that there is no help for it. 
 In all honesty it must be said, I think, 
 that when the young are in exceptional 
 conditions, perhaps away from home and 
 without the restraints of family life, they 
 are more liable to fall into temptation, 
 and to do things which they never would 
 have thought of doing at home. Such 
 sins may not have the permanent con- 
 tinuance of those committed in other 
 times of life, because of the temporary 
 conditions. When those conditions have 
 passed, and those special temptations are 
 left behind, the young man will not have 
 the same pressure to continue in the evil 
 .38 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 habit. And yet, with this said, the fact 
 stands that the sin is a sin ; the viola- 
 tion of nature's laws is a sin ; and even 
 if the habit is not continued, for those 
 sins nature will wreak vengeance in 
 some form or other. The young man 
 knows that he has sinned against him- 
 self, against his whole education, against 
 his parents' words and his own honor. 
 He is ashamed to think of his life for 
 the past three months in connection 
 with his home. He tries to set it apart 
 and excuse himself by saying that this 
 is college life, or this is city life, or 
 this is life in Europe, and that it is 
 a temporary matter; and that that is 
 home life. 
 
 But whether this is temporary or not, 
 the man is the same. He cannot divide 
 himself ; he goes from here to there, 
 and the laws of the spiritual and of the 
 physical life follow him wherever he 
 goes ; what he does here has its result 
 there. The sin is the same whether un- 
 der temporary conditions or not, and the 
 results of sin are the same, as far as they 
 affect others. When a man has to-day 
 by his word or example dragged down 
 one of his fellows a step lower in his 
 39 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 ideal ; when he has led another to vio- 
 late his conscience ; when the action of a 
 man who has been brought up with pure 
 surroundings is bad, and thereby leads 
 another to degradation : he may go to his 
 home and be as pure as he pleases ; he 
 may attend his parish church and receive 
 the communion ; he may be counted 
 most respectable and try to be most re- 
 spectable ; but all the time those whom 
 he has left behind, those whom he has 
 touched with the poison of his life, are 
 going into further degradation, and he 
 alone is responsible. The more respect- 
 able he becomes, if he is not ashamed of 
 his sin, and if he makes no effort to undo 
 the wrong that he has done, the more 
 of a hypocrite he becomes. In fact, I 
 know of no hypocrisy equal to that of a 
 man who has sown his wild oats, as it is 
 called, who has led others into degrada- 
 tion, and then, tired of that sort of life, 
 settles down as a respectable citizen and 
 a good Churchman, without repentance, 
 without shame, and without the effort to 
 do something to recompense for his 
 wickedness ; who sets himself up as a 
 model of social virtue, and speaks with 
 pity or scorn of the degraded men and 
 40 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 women of the city of the same class that 
 he led to degradation. 
 
 Whether, then, the sin be temporary, 
 and under exceptional surroundings, the 
 sin is the same in its essence, in its re- 
 sults upon others; and — this is the next 
 point — it is the same in its results upon 
 the man himself. 
 
 You know that there are certain chem- 
 ical properties which in certain combi- 
 nations make heat, and in others make 
 light, and in others make power. So, 
 sin does not assert itself in its results in 
 the same form, but it reveals itself in 
 the most unexpected ways. An old man, 
 for instance, may be querulous, selfish, 
 and autocratic, and yet he seems to be 
 in his way a religious man. Trace back 
 his life forty or fifty years ; and in the 
 yielding to the sins of youth, in intem- 
 perance and other excesses, you will 
 find the seeds of this irritability of old 
 age. One would have said that nature 
 would have wreaked her vengeance be- 
 fore and in other forms, but nature is 
 most interesting in the unexpectedness 
 with which she acts. 
 
 There is many a man on the border 
 line of chronic sin, of a bondage to some 
 41 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 evil habit, who will not fall into the form 
 of the bondage which others expect ; he 
 will not end in the gutter ; but he is en- 
 tering into some form of bondage which 
 will be just as strong as the more open 
 bondage of the drunkard. You know 
 young men who come to Cambridge with 
 high ideals, pure life, and a sensitiveness 
 to the touch of sin, who in the course of 
 six months or a year are different. At 
 first, they have thoughtlessly yielded ; 
 then they have gone deeper. Now it is 
 useless to say that they are going to the 
 bad, that they will surely fall into bond- 
 age to the lower vices ; some of them 
 will, many of them will not. They will 
 recover themselves, and in two or three 
 years, tired of their foolish ways, will 
 settle down. What harm, then, has 
 come from it ? Why should n't one pass 
 through this temporary phase of life, if 
 the danger is not great .'' This harm 
 comes : that every one of them, as they 
 enter into their better and more staid 
 life, will be men of lower tone and of 
 less vigorous character than if they had 
 not sinned. Some result is just as sure 
 as fate. The spiritual laws work with 
 the same exactness as the physical laws. 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 It is impossible for a man to sin against 
 his ideal, and to hold the same ideal with 
 all the firmness of the past. This is the 
 heavy weight that social life and college 
 life have to bear to-day, that so many 
 men who pass through, and in passing 
 through enter upon some phase of sin, 
 are now living, on the whole, excellent 
 lives, and yet who, because of their own 
 past, do not uphold the high ideal of 
 youth which belongs to youth. They 
 dare not go back on their record and 
 rebuke the sin of which they are guilty, 
 lest they accuse themselves of hypo- 
 crisy. So their mouths are shut, or else 
 they yield to the popular idea that these 
 things must be ; that a certain propor- 
 tion of youth have got to go wrong for 
 awhile. It is a lie ; for a certain pro- 
 portion of youth do not have to go 
 wrong. How many go wrong is depend- 
 ent largely upon the conditions which 
 surround them, upon the ideals which 
 they gain from their home and school 
 life. The moral tone varies in various 
 years, and if the community would lift 
 its standard and its expectation, there 
 would be a lift in the life of all of us. 
 Here, then, my friends, is the terror 
 43 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 of sin, — in its fixedness. The tendency 
 to sin again is the punishment of sin. 
 The tendency to sin, mark you, not in 
 the same form, necessarily, but in some 
 form. In that incarnate son of sin, Ju- 
 das, you can see how the same character 
 cropped out first in the fictitious jealousy 
 in behalf of the poor, that the money 
 spent in the ointment should not be 
 wasted, but should be given to the poor ; 
 it took another form in his conversation 
 with Jesus. But sin had so fixed itself 
 on his character that when the crisis 
 came, and our Lord pointed him out 
 with the words, " That thou doest, do 
 quickly," Judas rose and went to his 
 work of betrayal as automatically as the 
 drunkard seeks his glass. He was un- 
 der the bondage of sin all the time, 
 though it showed itself in varied forms, 
 and was finally revealed in the treacher- 
 ous kiss and the miserable suicide. 
 
 I have been taking for the illustration 
 of our truth only one class, the tempta- 
 tions and sins of young men. 
 
 But the truth holds just as firmly in 
 all characters, ages, and classes. 
 
 The keen business man who concen- 
 44 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 trates his whole life upon business suc- 
 cess, in his success finds that nature is 
 wreaking vengeance on the physique and 
 character. The nerves give way early, 
 or the higher tastes and the ennobling 
 thoughts of youth leave him, or he is 
 haunted by the low ambition of increas- 
 ing his fortune with no purpose for its 
 use. He realizes the foolishness of it, 
 but he cannot help enslaving himself to 
 make money. 
 
 The young woman yielding herself to 
 society finds that, when the freshness 
 has gone and others have taken her 
 place, she has been developing a love of 
 excitement which must be satisfied in 
 some form ; and she takes to aimless 
 traveling, or emotional religion, or de- 
 moralizing novels, or anything to keep 
 up the excitement of life. She has lost 
 the power of repose, and of the quiet 
 enjoyment of life, which is one of the 
 beauties of womanhood. 
 
 Sin, then, when it becomes fixed in 
 the character, gives it a set so strong and 
 hard, that in time the character moves 
 like an automatic slave, and the will, the 
 intellect, and the body come into per- 
 fect bondage. Do not understand me as 
 45 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 saying that all sin comes to this perfect 
 bondage. But what I do say, even 
 though I repeat it too often, is that 
 every sin has its inexorable result, and 
 will wreak its vengeance upon the spir- 
 itual, the intellectual, and the physical 
 texture of the man. 
 
 But here arises a question which some 
 of you may have been asking yourselves : 
 Is this the gospel .'' Do we not hear that 
 Christ came to save us from sin, and 
 that if we will believe Him, and trust in 
 His atonement, our sins shall be wiped 
 out, and we shall be washed in the blood 
 of the Lamb .-' Is it not possible for the 
 deepest-dyed sinner to claim Jesus as his 
 Saviour, and thus begin life afresh .'' 
 
 Here we must draw the distinction 
 between sin in its relation to man, and 
 in its relation to God. You notice that 
 I have been speaking of the effect of sin 
 in the character. I have not suggested 
 the more important relation, that of the 
 sinner to God ; I have not suggested 
 that the essential evil of sin is not first 
 in its results upon the character, but in 
 that it is the separation of a man from 
 God. It is true that the deepest-dyed 
 sinner may repent and turn to God, and 
 46 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 ask pardon in the name of his Son, 
 Jesus Christ. It is true that God, look- 
 ing into the heart of that sinner, and 
 seeing in it the spirit of humility, hope, 
 and of striving after purity, will look 
 over the sin, will overlook it, as did the 
 father when he received home the prod- 
 igal. And the repentant sinner may 
 dwell in perfect confidence and peace 
 with the Father, as did the prodigal for 
 the rest of his life in his father's home. 
 No mention will be made by the Father of 
 the past, no old scores called up, so long 
 as there remains that spirit of submis- 
 sion and dependence upon God's love. 
 So life went on in the home of the prodi- 
 gal after his return ; so life goes on here 
 and in the next world, where repentant 
 children of God trust their heavenly Fa- 
 ther. 
 
 But think you that the prodigal was 
 ever guilty of the thought that he was as 
 if he had never sinned ? Think you that 
 he never looked back with the deepest 
 sorrow at his ingratitude to the father, 
 at his low indulgence, at his treachery to 
 all the ideals that he had gained in his 
 father's home .-' More than this, must 
 there not have followed him, like a night- 
 47 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 mare, the faces of those whom he had 
 sinned against, whom he had led to 
 sin ; who had been the recipients of his 
 bounty and the sharers of his feasts ? 
 While he was in his father's home, they 
 were going on and on, down into degra- 
 dation, they were carrying his words, ay, 
 they were carrying a part of his very self, 
 into the lowest haunts of life ; it seemed 
 as if a fraction of his heart had been torn 
 from him and had gone with them. No ; 
 his return home, his father's love and 
 pardon, did not undo the past as far as 
 he and they were concerned. There was 
 nothing but to turn to the father again, 
 to gain a renewed pledge of his love, to 
 do what he could to redeem those of the 
 class that he had started down hill, and 
 what he could to redeem himself. His 
 sin was washed out as far as his father 
 was concerned ; but as far as he and they 
 were concerned, the sorrow and the ef- 
 fects of the sin still stayed by him and 
 tempered the joy of his whole life. 
 
 This brings us on to the other side of 
 the truth of the fixedness of character ; 
 "and the righteousness of the right- 
 eous shall be upon him." Now we take 
 up the truth of the continuity of human 
 48 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 life with a glow of hope and gratitude. 
 Every pure thought, true word, and no- 
 ble deed turned into the stream of life 
 will tend eternally to purify it. Every 
 temptation overcome is one step towards 
 the victory over another and a greater 
 temptation. Every movement towards 
 the truth gives a momentum to the life 
 which makes the next step more buoyant 
 and strong. Ay, have you ever thought of 
 it as parents, that your hidden thoughts 
 and secret ambitions, if they be spiritual 
 and true, are doing something in behalf 
 of leading the next generation of children 
 towards the truth .'' Have you never 
 heard one say in excuse for some wrong- 
 doing, that it is so easy for So-and-so to 
 do right, but so hard for himself .-' Have 
 you not heard another say, in excuse for 
 his selfishness, that it is a wrench for 
 him to give, but as for So-and-so it has 
 become such a habit that he likes to give .'' 
 And has it never occurred to you that 
 such an excuse is the greatest condem- 
 nation that a man can bring upon him- 
 self ? The glorious thing about the ease 
 of being virtuous, and the pleasure of 
 giving, is not that it leads to this or that 
 virtuous act, or this or that gift ; but 
 49 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 that it is a symptom of the character 
 which has for years been tending to- 
 wards the higher life and the generous 
 impulses, so that when the opportunity 
 comes the act is almost automatic. 
 
 One of the leading physiologists of 
 this country, in speaking of the incident 
 of Sir Philip Sidney dying on the battle- 
 field and refusing to take the cup of 
 water which another soldier needed, told 
 me that he did not think it cost Sir 
 Philip Sidney any effort ; in fact, he 
 questioned whether Sidney recognized 
 the beauty of the act. On my express- 
 ing surprise, he said, " Why, the fact is, 
 that as a physiologist, I believe that the 
 gentle and true life of Sir Philip Sidney, 
 his self-restraint and his almost perfect 
 poise of character throughout the devel- 
 opment of his manhood, had gradually 
 led him to a point where he was physi- 
 cally, morally, and spiritually so balanced 
 that it cost him no effort to do any ac- 
 tion which we call heroic. It was auto- 
 matic to him, and herein, not in that act 
 on the battlefield, but in the nobility of 
 his character, is seen the admirable fea- 
 ture of Sir Philip Sidney." What a 
 glorious thing it would be if we should 
 SO 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 only begin now, and determining with 
 God's help never to do anything that 
 our conscience disapproved, never to 
 yield one jot from the purity of our best 
 ideals, never to show one sign of moral 
 cowardice beneath the scoff or the si- 
 lence of our friends, and with all the 
 force of our character devote ourselves 
 to what is pure, true, lovely, and of good 
 report ; and gradually gain such poise of 
 character, as we must, if we continue, 
 that purity of word and thought will be- 
 come automatic, and that every action, 
 under the impulse of this leading motive, 
 will be towards the highest ideals of life. 
 And what is that, my friends, but the 
 saying, once and for all, " I am going to 
 take Jesus Christ as my example, my 
 leader, my Saviour, and my only test of 
 character ? From this time forth I am 
 going to cut myself off from associations 
 which I know are doubtful ; from habits 
 which I know are demoralizing, and from 
 acts which I know, however much I may 
 try to deceive myself, will have their bad 
 results in me in the years to come, and I 
 am going to devote myself squarely and 
 honestly to doing what I believe is right 
 in the name of my Master." Do this, 
 SI 
 
THE FIXEDNESS OF CHARACTER 
 
 ask God's help, lean upon God for your 
 support, keep the spirit of Christ beside 
 you, and you have given a set to your 
 character which will be like the spring 
 torrent to the sluggish river. That set 
 once made, and your resolution held, you 
 will move on through the stream of life, 
 ever purer and stronger ; and in the 
 course of years, who knows what a glori- 
 ous manhood will be yours ? 
 52 
 
IV 
 
 THE WORTH OF ONE FACT ^ 
 
 " He answered and said, Whether he 
 be a sinner or no, I know not : one thing 
 I know, that, whereas I was blind, now 
 I see." 2 
 
 It was a sturdy answer from an honest 
 man. In fact, there is, it seems to me, 
 no character roughly sketched in the 
 Gospel, that exhibits such honest, simple 
 and manly traits as does that of the beg- 
 gar who spoke these words. He was so 
 frank in manner, so true to himself and 
 his benefactor, so unassuming in his 
 courage and so simple in his faith, that 
 we cannot help being attracted to him 
 and to a study of the secret of his char- 
 acter. 
 
 That morning of the miracle, he had 
 waked, as he had every morning from 
 the day of his birth, totally blind. He 
 
 1 Appleton Chapel, Harvard University, December 
 II, 1887. 
 
 2 John ix. 25. 
 
 53 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 had groped his way to his customary 
 place on the street, where he might most 
 successfully touch the pity of the passers 
 by. To him, light, color, the beauties of 
 nature and of the human face were un- 
 known things, except as he had heard 
 them described by others. Soon, how- 
 ever, a sound of many feet reached his 
 ears ; a crowd was approaching. He is, 
 before he knows it, the centre of obser- 
 vation : for one voice asks, " Master, who 
 did sin, this man or his parents, that he 
 was born blind ? " The answer comes in 
 words and tone that must have sent a 
 thrill through him : " Neither hath this 
 man sinned, nor his parents : but that the 
 works of God should be made manifest 
 in him." " As long as I am in the world, 
 I am the Light of the world." He feels 
 upon his eyes the touch of the marvel- 
 ous stranger ; he goes without question, 
 almost without thought, to Siloam, 
 washes, and on the moment the sun 
 flashes into his eyes. Bewildered, al- 
 most stunned, he starts to return, when 
 down comes the crowd upon him ; neigh- 
 bors whose voices are so familiar and 
 whose faces are so strange, Pharisees, 
 all kinds, press on him with their hur- 
 54 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 ried questions : " How were thine eyes 
 opened ? " " Who opened thine eyes ? " 
 " Where is he ? " " Is this, after all, the 
 same man ? " " What sayest thou of 
 him ? " " It is the sabbath ; the healer 
 must be a sinner to heal on the sabbath 
 day." Pressed, dazed, the man holds 
 firmly to one fact. Those questions he 
 cannot answer, where he is, who he is. 
 " Whether he be a sinner or no, I know 
 not." One fact in his own experience 
 he does know, and he will stand by that 
 whatever comes: " But one thing I know, 
 that whereas I was blind, now I see." 
 No questions or threats can make him 
 deny that. That one fact was in this 
 crisis and bewilderment his salvation, for 
 it was one from his own experience. 
 
 This, then, is what I think stands at 
 the bottom of the man's character, his 
 appreciation of the worth of one fact 
 from his own experience. Our study to- 
 day is therefore the worth of one fact 
 founded upon our own spiritual experi- 
 ence. 
 
 Looking back over many young peo- 
 ple's early religious life, I think that a 
 rough sketch of their growth may be 
 something like this. The Bible and its 
 55 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 lessons are learned in childhood. They 
 are, of course, accepted on the authority 
 of our parents or teacher. The child 
 grows into maturity. On the same au- 
 thority the creeds are learned and re- 
 peated Sunday by Sunday. The ideas 
 on inspiration, prayer, and many other 
 truths are all accepted, and the boy, now 
 a young man, is called a pattern Chris- 
 tian and a loyal Churchman. The fond 
 hope of parent or teacher is that he is 
 going through life without a suspicion 
 of doubt, holding to these truths which 
 have never by any experience of his own 
 become a part of himself ; they have just 
 as little to do with his own inner spir- 
 itual experience, if he takes them merely 
 on the authority of others, as has his 
 knowledge of geography or history which 
 he learned at the same time. 
 
 Sometimes that fond hope is fulfilled. 
 The boy grows into manhood, and, as he 
 grows, he accepts the truths just as they 
 were given him ; he never questions one 
 of them, and by his own spiritual experi- 
 ence he makes them a part of himself. 
 His is an exceptional and a placid, happy 
 experience, without the rough usage, the 
 anxieties, the disappointments of a spir- 
 56 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 itual struggle, and (we must also add) 
 without its satisfaction and its hard won 
 victories. 
 
 Far different from that placid life is 
 the experience of most young men in 
 these days. 
 
 We have had those truths given us. 
 We have accepted them without deep 
 thought. We have lived on in the com- 
 fortable sense that we were all right ; we 
 know what a man ought to believe, and 
 what the church through her teachers 
 has told us to believe. The system all 
 seems so nice and strong and respect- 
 able — no deep thought necessary — just 
 take the truths and theories as they come. 
 
 But some day we wake, we say our 
 prayers as usual, we begin our daily 
 work ; when suddenly or gradually the 
 whole thing seems to have changed. An 
 acquaintance comes along and asks, 
 " How can God answer a man's prayer.?" 
 " How can He change his laws for one 
 insignificant atom calling himself a 
 man ? " We had not thought of it in 
 that way ; we had not thought at all, in 
 fact ; we had been used to saying our 
 prayers. " It is the right thing to do, all 
 good people do it," we answer, " and — 
 57 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 well" — we have to confess ourselves 
 defeated. 
 
 Or, in the subject of inspiration of 
 the Bible. We know what we have been 
 taught ; but the questioner presses in ; 
 we confess that " we do not see how 
 every word is inspired ; it certainly does 
 seem as if there must be some differ- 
 ences of statement between different de- 
 scriptions of the same scene. Yes ; our 
 ideas cannot exactly meet the facts ; we 
 shall have to find out about it — and — 
 well," again we are pushed to surrender. 
 
 So the story goes; one or another of 
 those beliefs that we had thought so 
 strong and true is hit, and for aught that 
 we can see, riddled at the first fire. 
 
 But the real danger is, not that we 
 shall let that one belief go, but as that 
 is wrapped up as part and parcel with 
 our whole system, we shall, in our first 
 bewilderment, let the whole thing go 
 without striking a blow in its defence. 
 Because the enemy have knocked in some 
 ancient and shaky wall around the be- 
 sieged city, is no reason for the garrison 
 in the well-tried and strongly armed cit- 
 adel to become demoralized and try to 
 escape with their lives. 
 58 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 Yet this is what we see every day. 
 
 A man, because he has had his faith 
 shaken in one or two of his childhood 
 beliefs, immediately calls himself a 
 doubter, as if there were something 
 praiseworthy in the fact that he has sur- 
 rendered without a blow that which he 
 is bound to hold as long as he consist- 
 ently can. 
 
 Another, who has running in his veins 
 generations of Christian blood, whose 
 whole tone and best traits of character 
 come from a Christian, praying. God- 
 fearing lineage, finds himself puzzled, 
 even bewildered. He cannot answer the 
 questions that press in on him : how a 
 just God can allow such misery as man 
 sometimes endures, or why He permits 
 sin. His brain cannot solve the infinite ; 
 and so " he knows nothing," he says, "he 
 makes no pretensions to know or believe 
 anything above or beyond the facts of 
 life," as he calls them ; as if God work- 
 ing in man were not a fact of life. He 
 revels in the name of Agnostic, as if 
 there were some peculiar charm in a 
 man's thus easily throwing off all 
 thought of deeper, spiritual subjects. 
 
 Do not understand me as saying that 
 59 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 there are not men of honest, earnest, 
 and noble character who, in a most con- 
 scientious and courageous way, give up 
 beliefs in which they have been educated 
 and set themselves outside of all posi- 
 tively spiritual faiths. But I do also say 
 that there is a vast amount of weakness 
 and cowardice in men, who, because they 
 have lost something of their old belief, 
 without the trouble of stopping to think, 
 throw the whole thing overboard, and 
 then take it upon themselves to sneer 
 at those who have the mental balance 
 and courage to hold on to what they have 
 until they see good reason to drop it. It 
 is not always the honest believer who 
 is shallow in thought and weak in action, 
 as some would have us think. Far from 
 it. 
 
 But when a young man finds himself 
 in such a crisis as we have suggested, 
 when certain ideas have got to go, and 
 he is becoming bewildered, what can he 
 do .'' What is there to save him .'' 
 
 That which saved the man from the 
 questions of that pushing crowd ; one fact 
 caught from our own spiritual experi- 
 ence. It makes but little matter what 
 that fact is, provided only that it is our 
 60 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 own, inwrought into our own thought 
 and life. We must be able to say, " One 
 thing I know," and I tell you it is an 
 immense safety to really know even only 
 one thing. To know, for instance, by 
 your own experience, that it is right 
 every time to do right, and wrong every 
 time to do wrong, is an anchor that holds 
 many a man from drifting into utter 
 recklessness in life ; — to know that 
 whatever be the questions about prayer, 
 prayer does give comfort, help, and in- 
 spiration ; — to know by your own self 
 that whatever be the theory of inspira- 
 tion, there is a something in the Bible 
 that has helped you as nothing else ever 
 did ; — to have tested, not through the 
 authority of another, but in our own life, 
 the real comfort and satisfaction in the 
 forgiveness of one of our sins through 
 faith in Jesus Christ. To have only one 
 such experience to fall back upon, to be 
 so convinced of its reality to us, that we 
 can say that that is one thing which 
 we know, even though the whole world 
 gainsaid it, is to have a hold on spiritual 
 things which is of inestimable value. 
 
 Do not believe the theory that religion 
 is a mere matter of the feelings, a blind 
 6i 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 unassured trust in something that no 
 one has ever seen, and that therefore 
 has no reality and no certainty. No ! 
 faith is the evidence of things not seen, 
 and to the man of faith it is as good as 
 if he had seen. 
 
 Granted, then, that we are ready and 
 glad to hold on to even one well-earned 
 spiritual fact, — what will be the effect 
 on us, on our questioners, and on the 
 truth ? 
 
 In the first place, it sifts our faith in 
 such a way that we immediately recog- 
 nize what is our own faith, and what is 
 that which we thought was our own, but 
 in fact was not. 
 
 When a man has been living beyond 
 his means, and has mortgaged his house 
 and other property, and then meets a 
 financial crisis, he soon finds what is his 
 and what is another's ; he comes down 
 to hard facts, and it is a good thing for 
 him. He would have been glad to put 
 off the evil day of bankruptcy, but it had 
 to come, and, in truth, the earlier the 
 better. 
 
 When a man has been living on a 
 faith that is not his own, and meets a 
 62 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 spiritual crisis, what was not his disap- 
 pears ; but that which is his, which by 
 experience he had made his own, stands 
 out sharp and clear and true. Some 
 would have the crisis put off ; there are 
 timid spirits that would keep a man 
 from thinking and questioning lest the 
 crisis should come. No ! it will come ; 
 and it is well that it should come before 
 the enthusiasms of life are over. 
 
 How that sifting does humble a man ! 
 how honest it makes him ! Before it, 
 there was nothing he did not pretend 
 to know and believe. He could tell you 
 all about religion. You know men who 
 have the whole thing systematized. 
 There is no question of the deep things 
 of God, of the Saviour, of inspiration, 
 nothing in heaven above or the earth 
 beneath, that they cannot tell you all 
 about, at least to their own satisfaction. 
 To confess ignorance of anything seems 
 to them equal to a confession of defeat. 
 But the man who has passed the crisis 
 is questioned : '' How does the Spirit 
 touch the heart of man ? " " Where are 
 heaven and hell ? " " We know that Jesus 
 was only an enthusiast, self-deceived." 
 How sturdy the answer, " Whether that 
 63 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 be true or not, I do not pretend to say : 
 how many things may be reconciled I do 
 not know ; but there are a few facts 
 which are to me as my hfe, that I do 
 know, and no questionings or sneers 
 can take them from me." The man is 
 thus toned up in humility and honesty, 
 ready to confess ignorance, no less ready 
 and quick to insist on what is to him the 
 truth. 
 
 Another effect is seen in the story of 
 the man. Those questions of the neigh- 
 bors turn into open hostility ; the Phari- 
 sees have taken the matter up ; the 
 healer is a sinner for healing on the 
 sabbath day ; therefore the healed man 
 must be thrown out of the synagogue, 
 excommunicated, cut off from friends 
 and old associations. With what quiet, 
 modest courage he bears himself! It 
 was the courage born of firm conviction, 
 a conviction founded on facts. 
 
 It is the same story, told a thousand 
 times. Science changes its methods 
 from theory to a study of facts ; and with 
 what quiet confidence may she then 
 throw down all theories and superstitions 
 that do not conform to the facts ! 
 
 St. Peter, before the Resurrection, 
 64 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 may deny his Master ; but once sure 
 of the fact of the Resurrection, that 
 same Peter will calmly face and rebuke 
 a whole city of Jews and murderers. 
 It is the conviction of a few simple, 
 but very deep truths that has sent the 
 missionaries all over the world, that has 
 put courage into thousands of men's 
 hearts, and has given every martyr 
 that has ever died for Christ his assur- 
 ance. 
 
 The creed that we recite every Sun- 
 day, called the Apostles' Creed, is simply 
 a statement of facts ; no theorizing, no 
 inferences, but truths direct from the 
 Scriptures, and more than that, capable 
 of coming direct from every believer's 
 heart. Because our Church has these 
 facts for her foundation, and no elaborate 
 form of belief for her members, we know 
 that she must be a church of courage 
 and missionary spirit. But to come to 
 ourselves. We have these questions 
 pressed on us : " You really do not think 
 the Christian religion is necessary to 
 civilization, do you .? " " Has n't the day 
 for Christianity about passed .-* " Ay ! 
 the questioners burst forth into Phari- 
 saic hostility. " Jesus is not even the 
 6S 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 ideal man ; his religion is a block, a hin- 
 drance to civilization. Away with it ! " 
 
 How is that to be met ? Only by 
 quiet, unmoved courage that will dare to 
 assert its conviction in the simple truths 
 of Christ's religion, that whatever comes 
 will be ready to say, ^^ I know,'' and that 
 will be ready to stand by its convictions. 
 
 I am not speaking of the future ; but 
 now, in these very days, just that cour- 
 ageous spirit is wanted in our different 
 walks of life, in society, in conversation, 
 in our student life ; a spirit to simply 
 state its faith, whatever that may be, and 
 firmly live up to it. 
 
 One other result must follow. What- 
 ever the faith may be, however limited, 
 if it is a man's own and lived up to, it 
 will be sure to increase. 
 
 You may see this by one last look at 
 that man's experience. He was turned 
 out of the synagogue, friendless and 
 homeless, but content with his one con- 
 viction, even though he had never seen 
 his healer. 
 
 The Saviour seeks him out and asks 
 
 him, "Dost thou believe on the Son of 
 
 God } " " Who is He, Lord, that I might 
 
 believe on Him } " i-s the answer. Jesus 
 
 66 
 
THE WORTH OF ONE FACT 
 
 says to him, " Thou hast both seen him, 
 and it is he that talketh with thee." 
 " Lord, I believe," and he worshipped 
 Him. 
 
 Because he had that one truth, he was 
 sure to be led on to higher truths. 
 
 Faith is not a thing that can stand 
 still ; it must grow or die. One convic- 
 tion must lead on to another, or the first 
 will in time be lost. If a man stands by 
 the truth he has, some day, in some 
 form, Christ, who is the Truth, will pour 
 into his heart another and another. If 
 a man has faith enough to do His will, 
 he shall know of the doctrine. Never be 
 content, then, to live and believe only 
 just and exactly what you believe to-day ; 
 look for higher and larger things, a 
 deeper faith, a stronger assurance, and 
 a firmer hope. Jesus has promised that 
 he who seeks shall find, and He keeps 
 his promises. He who has given you 
 one truth, will, if you are honest and 
 earnest, if you live courageously up to 
 that truth, lead you on and on, through 
 this life and the next, into all Truth. 
 67 
 
V 
 
 A SKILFUL DEFENCE ^ 
 
 There are few chapters in the Old 
 Testament so full of interest and action, 
 so infused with faith and the martial 
 spirit, as are those of the patriot Nehe- 
 miah. 
 
 Let me recall one incident. 
 
 Nehemiah, who happened at the time 
 to be the cupbearer of King Artaxerxes, 
 in his palace in Shushan, hundreds of 
 miles away from his old home, Jerusa- 
 lem, heard by chance from certain Jews 
 of the desperate condition of that once 
 royal city, the walls broken down, the 
 gates burned, the people dispirited and 
 in great affliction and reproach. 
 
 His spirit of patriotism and religion 
 was touched. First brooding over the 
 matter, then seeking the king, he ob- 
 tained leave of absence for a certain 
 length of time, collected the letters 
 
 1 Appleton Chapel, Harvard University, Decem- 
 ber 7, 1890. 
 
 68 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 necessary to pass him through the inter- 
 vening countries, made a forced journey, 
 and in three days was in Jerusalem. No 
 sooner there than under the cover of 
 night he made a close inspection of the 
 walls, the gates, and the surrounding 
 country. Then, amidst the scoffs of the 
 people outside, he roused all classes of 
 citizens to a high pitch of enthusiasm ; 
 he set priests and merchants, apotheca- 
 ries and goldsmiths, nobles and artisans 
 at work, each man and family in their 
 given place. Soon, to the chagrin of 
 the enemy, the walls began to rise, the 
 gates to be set up, and the city strength- 
 ened. Now those without awoke and 
 surrounded the city with a large force ; 
 the builders had to become fighters ; 
 they that builded and they that bare bur- 
 dens with one hand wrought in the work, 
 and with the other hand held a weapon. 
 
 Moreover the walls were long and the 
 garrison very small. They had to make 
 up in strategy what they lacked in force. 
 The soldiers were scattered along the 
 wall, and a system of signals was organ- 
 ized. Then, wherever an assault was 
 made by the enemy, there the garri- 
 son near by would collect, in order to 
 69 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 strengthen the force of their comrades. 
 " In what place, therefore {so goes the 
 order), ye hear the sound of the trumpet, 
 resort ye thither to us : our God shall 
 fight for us." 1 
 
 The scene and the spirit of the defence 
 seem to me, my friends, to have some 
 suggestions for our thought this morn- 
 ing. For in these days of questioning, 
 and of open hostility to religion, the call 
 goes forth to every Christian to study 
 more carefully than ever the spiritual 
 condition of the Church and of ourselves, 
 and the problem for us is, in what spirit 
 should that be done, and the citadel de- 
 fended from her spiritual enemies and 
 ours. The one point that I want to 
 impress is, the necessity of thoughtful 
 skill in the plans and method of our de- 
 fence, in strengthening those parts where 
 the assault of evil is the strongest. 
 
 I need not remind you, who are famil- 
 iar with the story of the temptation in 
 the wilderness, of the consummate skill 
 with which the enemy of Christ was 
 met ; how there was given blow for 
 blow, Scripture quotation for Scripture 
 quotation, an answer to every question ; 
 1 Nehemiah iv. 20. 
 70 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 how, as the evil power bent all his 
 strength on one point and then on an- 
 other, the Saviour marshalled his spirit- 
 ual forces just when and where they were 
 wanted, and how the arch enemy retired 
 vanquished, at least for a season. That 
 scene is typical of the method of his 
 whole life. He is a superficial student 
 who thinks that Jesus went here and 
 there without thought or plan, and 
 praised this man and denounced that 
 one, simply as they happened before 
 Him. There was in our Lord's life no 
 careless action, no wasted power. 
 
 That the Church, however, has not al- 
 ways retained that skill and thoughtful 
 method of the Master, it does not take a 
 deep study of the past to discover. 
 
 The student of history will find that 
 in every age certain evils were creep- 
 ing into, and gaining possession of the 
 Church, while the trumpet-blast of her 
 leaders was calling all the thought and 
 action of the Church in just the oppo- 
 site direction. When bishops and theo- 
 logians have been bending their whole 
 force upon some question of the exact 
 form of union between the persons of 
 the Godhead, or the distinction between 
 71 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 the human and the divine in Jesus, pa- 
 ganism, with its horde of degrading influ- 
 ences, has been rushing in at another 
 gate. When some question of ecclesias- 
 tical government or supremacy has oc- 
 cupied the Church's thoughts, elements 
 have been gathering which would, if they 
 had been looked to, have created a panic 
 in the quiet or argumentative council 
 chambers. It is marvellous, sometimes, 
 to see how dull or prejudiced or blind 
 the leaders of the Church seem to have 
 been. Such immense wastes of power, 
 such loss of opportunities, such mis- 
 directed but well-intended action. 
 
 And yet, as we have seen lately in the 
 discussions of the battles of our war, it 
 is always easy to be wise after the fight, 
 easy to criticise the methods and actions 
 of the leaders when the smoke is cleared 
 and the strength or weakness of the en- 
 emy presented in a careful map before 
 us. It is as easy to laugh at the immense 
 tomes of theology that lumber the shelves 
 of our libraries, at those long ago fights 
 and discussions and formulas, as it is to 
 laugh at the old forts of the Revolution, 
 and the cannon which adorn our com- 
 mons and monuments. But useless and 
 72 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 ungainly as they now are, they did their 
 work, and most of it good work, in their 
 day. They are interesting in themselves, 
 and helpful in the development of new 
 forms for new exigencies. Each of our 
 creeds bears the scars of many a fight, 
 and has, within it, principles on which 
 the fight against false doctrines and evil 
 powers must continue to be carried on. 
 
 We have, however, dwelt long enough 
 in the past. 
 
 The Church of to-day is for the life of 
 to-day ; her skill is seen in the way that 
 she uses the principles won in the past 
 for the present work. And what is that 
 work .'' 
 
 To hear some good Church people talk, 
 one would think that the final object 
 of the Church is to have a dignified ser- 
 vice, an interesting minister, and a com- 
 fortable and handsome building ; or an 
 elaborately organized parish with a so- 
 ciety for every need and emergency pos- 
 sible, or a correct idea of the forms of 
 the ritual and order of the Church. All 
 of these, and many other good things of 
 which we hear much, have their impor- 
 tance : they are all means to a certain 
 73 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 end. The danger is, lest we pay so 
 much attention to the means, to the 
 sharpening and polishing of our instru- 
 ments, that we forget the great work, 
 the upbuilding of the walls, and the 
 defence. If the whole thought, talk, 
 and force of the Church could be brought 
 to bear upon one thing, the foundation 
 thing, on the person of Jesus Christ ; if 
 in these days we — you and I and all in 
 the Church — should cease pressing our 
 pet notions, or discussing our ideas on 
 this or that method, should cease preach- 
 ing ourselves, and turn thought, word, 
 and life to the preaching of Jesus Christ 
 and him crucified, the fact that not only 
 Jesus Christ did live to warn, help, and 
 heal men in Palestine, but now liveth to 
 warn, help, and heal us ; that He is now 
 waiting and watching for our confession 
 of duty neglected and entrance on new 
 duties begun, as He waited and watched 
 of old ; that He is as grieved with our 
 cowardly denials of Him, as He was with 
 that of Peter ; that He is bearing the 
 load of our sin, — if the Church should 
 preach and realize that, there would be 
 no question that her walls had been 
 strengthened in these days. 
 74 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 The trumpet has sounded in these last 
 twenty years, and has called the thought 
 of the Church to the person of Christ ; 
 and she has responded. The strength 
 of the Church and the evidence of her 
 truth is now felt, not so much in the 
 fact that miracles were performed by 
 Christ, or that the canon of Scripture 
 cannot be broken, or that the truth of His 
 system can be exactly proved, as in the 
 fact that Jesus Christ lived : His Life, not 
 His words alone, or His miracles alone, 
 or His resurrection alone, but His Life as 
 a whole, in all its humility, grace, beauty, 
 and power, in all its confessions of union 
 with God, and in its perfect sympathy 
 with man, from Birth to Ascension, was 
 and is the miracle for which no other 
 system can account. Impress that Life 
 on men, burn the story of the Cross into 
 their hearts, and you have given them 
 the one power which will enable them to 
 break with all their evil associations. 
 You have recreated them. 
 
 If, then, the people of the Church — 
 if you and I — turn our thoughts intently 
 on the person of Christ, we cannot es- 
 cape two truths, the two truths which 
 75 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 He placed above all others. First, the 
 truth of God the Father. 
 
 To-day we are largely materialists. 
 In other ages there may have been too 
 many spiritualists ; but to-day there is 
 no question that we as a people believe 
 most strongly in what we can see, feel 
 and handle. We believe in the power 
 of brains, muscle, material resources, and 
 money. The study of nature need not 
 lead to a want of spirituality, but a close 
 and intent study of nature often does 
 shut out the spiritual side of things. As 
 a result, while thinking, busy, and prac- 
 tical men admire and reverence many of 
 the traits of Jesus of Nazareth, they 
 know little or nothing of the spiritual 
 forces behind Him. The whole drift of 
 the thought and action is such as to cre- 
 ate, not so much a denial as a simple 
 thoughtlessness of, and indifference to, 
 spiritual truths. In the theory of many, 
 a God somehow exists ; but that a hea- 
 venly Father now lives, loves, and longs 
 for the love of His children, — that the 
 spirit of God moving in men's hearts 
 and lives, though they know it not, is 
 the great force in the world to-day, — is 
 a truth totally alien to their ways of look- 
 76 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 ing at things. This agnosticism, not of 
 thonghtfulness, but of thoughtlessness, 
 is not to be reasoned away, for men are 
 not interested enough to reason and 
 think in those lines ; it can only be 
 pushed away by breathing into the life 
 of men more of the spiritual spirit, more 
 of the faith in faith and love and higher 
 graces than they now have. In other 
 words, the practical business man, the 
 clerk, the student, the workingman, any 
 one who, while intently interested in his 
 work and pleasure, shows by the tenor 
 of his life that he is living by faith and 
 not by sight ; that he really believes in a 
 heavenly Father, and the deeper spiritual 
 truths of Christ, — such a man is doing 
 more to offset and overthrow practical 
 and indifferent unbelief than many an 
 earnest champion of the faith in our 
 books and reviews. 
 
 The second is the truth of man, the 
 brother: "No man liveth to himself, 
 and no man dieth to himself." 
 
 The man who believes only in the 
 worth and power of material things, 
 reasonably, puts his whole life into the 
 gaining of them. His first duty is to 
 himself ; his last duty is to his fellow- 
 77 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 man : he is logical and true to his princi- 
 ples. The society in which that spirit is 
 the ruling power logically expects every 
 man to look out for himself, and, except 
 as a matter of policy and self-defence, 
 for no one else. Let this spirit of self- 
 ishness gain full control of all grades 
 of society, without that tempering spirit 
 which comes with religion and faith in 
 spiritual truths, and we shall have a 
 labor question, and a social question, and 
 a political question, to which our pre- 
 sent troubles are but whispers. "Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" is a 
 word which no Christian can get rid of ; 
 it is a word which must be interpreted 
 with reason and common sense ; but the 
 principle is there. The fact that each 
 member of society and each class of 
 society suspects each other, member 
 and class, of selfish motives is that 
 which keeps society in a ferment ; and 
 the trouble is, there is only too much 
 ground for the suspicion. Men have 
 been and are supremely selfish. All 
 classes have at different times unjustly 
 demanded rights and held power which a 
 Christian spirit would have yielded. Con- 
 sequently, every sharp contrast of riches 
 78 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 and poverty intensifies the suspicion, 
 and the man who spends his ten thou- 
 sand dollars for a few inches of bric-a- 
 brac, and the laborer who, in combina- 
 tion with a thousand others, has struck 
 in the next street at what they think 
 are starvation wages, naturally eye each 
 other with some suspicion. No instan- 
 taneous cure will remedy the matter. It 
 is the spirit of Christ, of tender regard for 
 others, of high justice and sympathetic 
 humanity, that our lives want ; and it is 
 to the Church, — to the members of the 
 Church in their business relations, the 
 treatment of their employees in their 
 shops and factories and their servants in 
 their houses, — to us that the world looks 
 for the noblest expressions of it. In 
 that breach of the principle of the bro- 
 therhood of mankind in Christ, of Chris- 
 tian charity, the trumpet sounds to-day, 
 "Resort ye thither." 
 
 The battle-cry of the text has its more 
 personal suggestion. Each man and 
 woman is called to stand on the defence 
 against their peculiar enemy, and to en- 
 force themselves in their weak spot. 
 The trouble is that it is far easier to 
 79 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 enforce ourselves in our strongest spot. 
 The temptation of a thoughtless ath- 
 lete is to strengthen his muscles where 
 they are already the strongest, and thus 
 gain preeminence in some special line. 
 The skilled athlete will turn his thought 
 and force on to the weaker part, and 
 thus develop the whole man in perfect 
 symmetry and strength. The healthy 
 system sends the blood leaping to that 
 part where it is wanted. The sickly 
 body will not respond to the call for aid 
 in its weaker part. 
 
 That spiritual system, that man who 
 is in a spiritually healthy condition, will 
 turn the whole strength to his weaker 
 parts. Yet how often is the case re- 
 versed ! 
 
 The man who is always ready to give 
 money, but seldom patient, and often 
 irritable, says that he will turn over a 
 new leaf and be a better man ; and he 
 sits down and writes off his generous 
 checks in the satisfaction that he is keep- 
 ing away the spirit of selfishness. But 
 his form of selfishness is in impatience 
 and irritability ; there is the weak point 
 in his garrison. 
 
 The church - going worldly woman 
 80 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 keeps Lent by multiplying her attend- 
 ance at services, and pins her salvation 
 on regular attendance at early commun- 
 ion ; but her weak point, a worldly or an 
 envious spirit, goes uncorrected. 
 
 The boy makes his good resolutions 
 to be good and not to lose his temper, 
 which he very seldom does lose, and for- 
 gets to control his tongue, that unruly 
 member, from impure words. 
 
 And so with all of us. The skill of 
 the patriot Nehemiah was in discovering 
 where the weak spot was on the ap- 
 proach of the enemy; then any man 
 could marshal the forces. The hard part 
 is often to look really honestly at our- 
 selves and into our own deepest motives, 
 to discover what is the root of selfish- 
 ness, and then what form it takes. That 
 done, the warning sounded, the whole 
 spiritual force of the man turned to that 
 weak spot, the fight earnest, and there 
 will be no question of the result ; for he 
 who so acts has the assurance, " Our 
 God shall fight for us." 
 
 There is one element which I feel is 
 wanting sadly in the Church, and in the 
 Christian character in these times. Of 
 this I would finally speak. On the 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 whole, the methods of the Church in 
 these days are good, the thought and 
 truths of the Gospel are well supported. 
 Everything seems ready for a more ag- 
 gressive fight against the thoughtful and 
 practical enemies of to-day. Still we 
 hesitate, and do not move as we ought ; 
 many of our weapons are useless ; our 
 work is not effective, for want of one 
 thing, enthusiasm born of a personal 
 faith. 
 
 Some of you may have read the story 
 told by a private in our war. In the 
 midst of the battle, the plans all laid 
 and in execution, the action hot, one of 
 those critical moments when the turn 
 depends not on numbers but on the con- 
 fidence and courage of the men, he could 
 feel the courage of himself and his com- 
 rades oozing out. The odds were against 
 them ; a retreat, perhaps a rout, seemed 
 inevitable, when the figure of Hancock 
 was seen moving slowly in front of the 
 line, every inch of him a soldier. The 
 response to his look and word was im- 
 mediate. The whole line took courage, 
 rose, advanced and drove back the enemy. 
 I say that we have all the material, all 
 the plans and methods necessary ; we 
 82 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 have numbers enough. What we do 
 want is something of that spiritual en- 
 thusiasm. It is more than emotion ; it 
 is thought, act, and hfe kindled with that 
 spiritual enthusiasm born of a personal 
 loyalty to the noblest of leaders. Not 
 that the man has got hold of some truth, 
 but that the truth of Christ has got hold 
 of him, and sets him ablaze to kindle 
 that truth in another's life. 
 
 You say that your friend is indifferent 
 to religion ; that he has no particular 
 faith ; he never goes to church. You 
 know also, that it has not come alto- 
 gether from thought in the matter ; he 
 has simply drifted, thoughtless. He 
 merely cares for none of these things. 
 Argument is not going to touch that 
 man. Worship and sermons will not 
 move him, for he avoids them. Books 
 will not convince him, for he skips all 
 that hints at religion. The only thing 
 that will touch him is your own spiritual 
 enthusiasm. If you are loyal to Christ, 
 if you believe in Him as the only hope 
 of your life and of this world, then you 
 have a duty by your friend which you 
 cannot escape. There is not one of us 
 in whom the trumpet call is not for more 
 83 
 
A SKILFUL DEFENCE 
 
 enthusiasm. First, seek for yourself a 
 deeper realization of the truth of Christ ; 
 seek it earnestly and with prayer ; with 
 short prayers if you will, but with earnest 
 ones ; then live in the spirit of Christ. 
 Use tact in word and action, but be not 
 over sensitive ; an earnest man has some- 
 times to push his way and break down 
 others' prejudices. And if you are in 
 earnest and with high enthusiasm, others 
 will feel it ; they must. Though they 
 say little, they will think. Then, if you 
 continue faithful and sincere, " our God 
 shall fight for us." Leave the result 
 with Him ; your work is done. 
 84 
 
VI 
 
 THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND THE 
 CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH ^ 
 
 "Then came the Jews round about 
 him, and said unto him, How long dost 
 thou make us to doubt ? If thou be the 
 Christ, tell us plainly. Jesus answered 
 them, I told you and ye believed not : 
 the works that I do in my Father's 
 name, they bear witness of me. But ye 
 believe not because ye are not of my 
 sheep, as I said unto you. My sheep 
 hear my voice, and I know them, and 
 they follow me." ^ 
 
 When a man asks a plain and honest 
 question, should he not get a plain and 
 direct answer .-' I think that there are 
 some of us who at first thought have a 
 little doubt in our minds as to whether 
 those people were treated quite fairly by 
 
 1 St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, Nov- 
 ember 20, 1892. Christ Church, Cambridge, before 
 the St. Paul's Society of Harvard University, May 
 26, 1895. 
 
 2 John X. 24-27. 
 
 85 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 our Lord. Here was a man who had 
 appeared in the community, and who was 
 certainly worthy of their notice. The 
 people had been brought up for gener- 
 ations in expectation of a Messiah, a 
 Christ, a deliverer. Certain features 
 about this man, His miracles. His claims 
 and the claims of His followers for Him, 
 certain incidents in connection with His 
 birth and early career, the driving of 
 traders out of the Temple just two years 
 ago on that very Feast day, naturally 
 provoked the question, " Is not this the 
 Messiah .'* Have we not, right here 
 among us, the Christ whom we have 
 been expecting .'* " 
 
 What more natural and honorable 
 thing to do than to go directly to Him 
 with the question, " How long dost thou 
 make us to doubt .'' How long wilt thou 
 hold us in suspense .'' If thou be the 
 Christ, tell us plainly." 
 
 Why could not Jesus give them a di- 
 rect answer ? Why did He throw them 
 ofT in that evasive way, and begin to 
 talk of His sheep.? I think that we can 
 best answer the question by suggesting 
 an illustration or two from our own ex- 
 perience in these days. 
 86 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 I have said that we sympathize a good 
 deal with those straightforward business- 
 like men who, in asking a definite ques- 
 tion, expect a definite answer. For we 
 are after all a straightforward and busi- 
 ness-like people in this age. We live on 
 facts, and like to get at results. 
 
 When a new metal is discovered, or 
 a new chrysanthemum cultivated, we 
 can describe its characteristics, name it, 
 label it, and when the definite question is 
 asked, "What is this new discovery.?" 
 we can give a definite answer. And 
 ten years hence we can give the same 
 answer. It will always be found exactly 
 the same, in the catalogue of metals or 
 of flowers. 
 
 And so in our business-like and scien- 
 tific way we begin to think that every 
 thing can be defined, labelled, and put 
 in a case, hermetically sealed against 
 changing atmospheres of thought and 
 discussion. 
 
 Once in a while, however, some great 
 living principle arises which knocks over 
 all these pleasant notions of preserving 
 truth in unchanging forms and defini- 
 tions. 
 
 In science, some genius who has the 
 87 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 power of classifying other men's facts, 
 some one with the patience and imagina- 
 tion of a Darwin, arises : and from the 
 din of scientific discussion appears the 
 word and the principle of evolution. 
 We do not know exactly how it has 
 come, but here it is ; and immediately 
 ten thousand voices ask "What is evolu- 
 tion ? what does the evolutionist hold ? " 
 And you who have lived in the thought 
 of the last twenty years know how, as 
 soon as that term was defined, as it was 
 supposed by some forever, it has needed 
 a re-definition. 
 
 Some new fact or class of facts, some 
 importation of philosophic or religious 
 truth into the discussion, has given the 
 term a larger meaning. So that as it 
 expresses the results of vital thought 
 and experience, as it is the revelation of 
 a living principle, it cannot be defined 
 and confined to one interpretation, but is 
 ever growing larger, and embracing more 
 and more of thought and life in its com- 
 pass. Thus the evolutionist of to-day is 
 broader in his vision than the evolution- 
 ist of five years ago, and narrower than 
 he will be five years hence. 
 
 The most misleading thing, therefore, 
 88 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 that science could do to-day would be to 
 give a definite, plain, business-like an- 
 swer to the plain question, " How long is 
 science to hold us in suspense ? Why 
 cannot we have a final answer to our 
 question, * What is this principle of evo- 
 lution ? ' " 
 
 Now I believe that we are ready to 
 go back to our text with more intelli- 
 gence, and see how impossible it was for 
 Jesus to give a direct answer to the 
 direct question : for the more definite 
 and final His answer, the more mislead- 
 ing it would have been. 
 
 These people, you notice, were Jews : 
 "Then came the Jews round about him." 
 
 It was at the Feast of Dedication. It 
 was an anniversary of liberty, when was 
 celebrated the breaking of the Syrian 
 yoke by the great leader, Judas Mac- 
 cabaeus. It was a day that appealed to 
 the Jewish national pride, when the 
 Roman yoke galled most bitterly. Their 
 dreams and hope were of another and 
 greater than Maccabaeus, a Messiah, who 
 would break the power of Rome and 
 make Jerusalem the queen of all nations, 
 and the Jews the victors of all people. 
 Jesus was the Messiah. But as He well 
 89 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 knew, and as we now know, He repre- 
 sented infinitely more than Messiahship. 
 
 To have answered that He was the 
 Christ would have been to set those Jews 
 upon entirely the wrong track. The 
 word " Christ " did not mean the same 
 thing to Him and them. He was not 
 the Christ as they understood it. To 
 have said " Yes " would in fact have 
 been a false answer as they would have 
 interpreted it. To have said " No " 
 would also have been false, for He was 
 the Christ, and He could not deny Him- 
 self. 
 
 And, after all, He had told them, or 
 rather tried to tell them. He had in 
 vain repeated some of the eternal prin- 
 ciples beneath the Messiahship : " I and 
 my Father are one," " I came forth from 
 the Father," "I am the Light of the 
 World : " but they believed not ; they did 
 not have the spiritual capacity to take it 
 in ; even the works that He did had no 
 spiritual meaning to them. They were 
 as hopeless to impress with the truth of 
 his Messiahship as is the ignorant clod- 
 hopper to comprehend the great princi- 
 ples involving nature, man, and spirit, 
 under the term "evolution." 
 90 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 Yet there is among us all, even among 
 the very religious, the feeling that reli- 
 gious truths can be finally and adequately 
 defined and settled, so that when the 
 answers to the great questions of God, 
 of the Trinity, of the Scriptures, or of 
 the future life, are once made, they are 
 settled forever. There are those of us 
 who think of the faith once delivered to 
 the saints as a neatly packed system of 
 truths, all dovetailed and mortised into 
 each other, defined and numbered, so 
 that when one has once grasped it, he 
 has it forever in the same form. No ! 
 the truth of Jesus Christ is no dead 
 thing, but living, vital, developing with 
 every income of new thought and expe- 
 rience. 
 
 Take, for instance, that truth, the in- 
 spiration of the Bible. Our fathers de- 
 fined it, as they thought, forever. The 
 Bible was the Word of God ; every word 
 and letter inspired, and equally inspired 
 by Him ; one fact wrong, and the whole 
 would fall. To the doubting world cry- 
 ing, " How long dost thou hold us in 
 suspense .'' Tell us, what is inspiration .'' " 
 they gave a compact, definite, and satis- 
 factory answer ; satisfactory to them. 
 91 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 But we all know how the revelation of 
 God's truth in the very Scriptures them- 
 selves, in men's experiences and in the 
 study of nature, has burst those old defi- 
 nitions. How new ones have been 
 formed, and how, again, the living truth 
 has broken the shell ! What shall we 
 say ? Is the Bible not inspired ? Is it 
 not God's word ? Surely it is both of 
 these. His Spirit moved in the hearts 
 and lives of those men of old. He was 
 beneath the movements of races and na- 
 tions. He was in the history of all those 
 peoples, from Abraharn, through Isaiah, 
 to Malachi. He, Himself, was in Christ 
 Jesus, and breathed upon the apostles. 
 What, then, those men did and wrote 
 was inspired of God, — not all that they 
 did and wrote. Some of their wicked 
 deeds and words seem to have been in- 
 spired by Satan. They had their times 
 of spiritual desjDondency as we do ; they 
 were not equally inspired. We may de- 
 fine inspiration to-day. Our definition 
 is larger, nobler, and more divine than 
 our fathers' definition. Our children's, 
 we trust, will be nobler than ours. . 
 
 And yet, in this very point. Christian 
 people still cling to the fact that what 
 92 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 our fathers defined must be so. It is 
 just here that the irreverent and Phi- 
 listine spirit of Ingersollism and the 
 scientific spirit of Huxleyism has its 
 leverage. 
 
 They take Christians at their word, 
 that the forms of faith change not, and 
 that the truth must always be defined as 
 the truth always has been ; and they easily 
 riddle the old systems, which did good 
 work in their day, but which have already 
 given way to others. Such interpreta- 
 tions are as intelligent as if the theolo- 
 gian should base an argument against 
 modern science on the grounds of the 
 definitions of scientists of one hundred 
 years ago. 
 
 Or, again, the question of the Resur- 
 rection, 
 
 You know the popular belief of fifty 
 years ago, — the soul transported into 
 unknown regions ; the body resting in 
 the ground ; the great day when all the 
 particles of the flesh would gather and 
 become again the home of the soul, and 
 the man would stand ready for judgment. 
 
 You know how the more intelligent 
 study of St. Paul's words, of our Lord's 
 resurrection, and the more spiritual 
 93 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 interpretation of nature, have glorified 
 the truth, cut away the pagan notion of 
 the immortal formless soul, and inter- 
 preted man as one, soul and body ; and 
 how the resurrection is the entering 
 into the higher life with spiritualized 
 aspiration and form. Very imperfect, 
 our definition, you say. Yes, gloriously 
 imperfect, with every new revelation of 
 truth to be made more perfect. 
 
 " Do you believe in the resurrection 
 of the body ? Tell us plainly. Does the 
 Church ask us to believe it ? Give me a 
 final answer, that will settle my doubts 
 and free me from thinking any more 
 about it." 
 
 Can we answer definitely and in a 
 word ? 
 
 We say "Yes." Ah, — but what do 
 you mean by the body, by the resurrec- 
 tion ; and we are misunderstood. We 
 say " No," — not the exact unchanged 
 body that was laid in the ground, and 
 yet we believe in the resurrection of the 
 body ; and again we are misunderstood. 
 
 And the business-like, impatient in- 
 quirer goes away, saying that we do not 
 know what we believe. Is the fault in 
 him, or in us ^ Surely the faithful Chris- 
 94 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 tian knows that he is now living in 
 Christ ; that when he dies he is still liv- 
 ing in Christ ; that as Christ rose and 
 Himself ascended into heaven, a spiritual 
 state, so we shall rise, and, clothed in 
 spiritual form, we shall dwell with Him. 
 
 "Ah!" — I can hear the sigh from 
 some quiet, faithful Christian. " Is re- 
 ligion such a moving, changing, restless 
 thing .-* Am I never to rest in my faith, 
 with the assurance that I shall have to 
 struggle and search and develop no 
 longer.'* " I know how, in this intellectu- 
 ally restless age, that dread hangs like a 
 cloud over many lives. "I have broken 
 with my child faith. I had to. I have 
 a more mature faith now. It is, I know, 
 better than the old; but have I got to 
 move again .'' Ever this onward, upward 
 march ? Ever this testing of new truths 
 and larger revelations ? " 
 
 We know how that spirit, weary of 
 tossing upon the tides of thought, has 
 driven many to Rome and many more 
 to agnosticism. 
 
 Are they right ? Is the true religious 
 life a tossing on the tides of thought .'' 
 Are change and movement the necessary 
 characteristic of faith ? Yes, and no. 
 95 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 " Am I always to be putting forth 
 new limbs ?" cries the tree. "Am I to 
 be forever s win s^ing in the wind? Ever 
 responding to the rain and suns of sum- 
 mer ? Yielding foliage and fruit, drop- 
 ping them, and yielding again ? " Yes, 
 by all means, yes, if you are to live. 
 And yet your roots buried deep in the 
 earth, clinging to rock and clod, hold 
 you fast, nurture you, give you stability 
 and life. 
 
 Is the ship to be forever tossed upon 
 the sea, buffeting winds and waves .-* 
 Yes, by all means, yes, if she be a true 
 ship ; but within her are the needle, the 
 helm, and the pilot that keep her true. 
 Perpetually moving, yet never changing 
 in loyalty to the hand that guides her. 
 Herein is her safety. Let her lie at 
 anchor in the harbor forever, and bar- 
 nacles, rust, and decay will be her lot. 
 Herein is her glory, that she is doing the 
 work for which she was launched, mak- 
 ing harbor after harbor for which she is 
 directed. 
 
 Have you not now caught the thought ? 
 If not, you may catch it in the very an- 
 swer of Jesus to those same Jews. "I 
 told you and ye believed not. But ye 
 96 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 believed not because ye are not of my 
 sheep. My sheep hear my voice, and I 
 know them, and they follow me." The 
 basis of the Christian faith, the root of 
 the Christian life, the compass and pilot 
 is in the personal love of the man for 
 Christ : the sheep and the shepherd. 
 
 It was of no use to answer the Jews, 
 for they had not love. He would have 
 liked to answer them, but while they 
 had not that, they could not understand 
 Him. He did answer the woman at the 
 well, and many a humble man, because 
 they did have that. 
 
 Herein is no change, any more than 
 the tree changing its limbs. The Chris- 
 tian faith is unchangeable, as the child's 
 love to his father is unchangeable, rooted 
 deep in affection, in devotion, and expe- 
 rience. The Christian believes in the 
 deeper truths of God, in the essential 
 facts and principles of Christ life ; his 
 existence is bound up with them. And 
 yet the Christian faith is changeable, as 
 the child's love for his father is change- 
 able. With growth from boyhood to 
 manhood, the son interprets his father's 
 love more intelligently, grasps the best 
 elements of his father's character more 
 97 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 strongly, and they both rejoice in the 
 maturing expression of his devotion. 
 
 Surely no one would ask that the form 
 or expression of the filial love would re- 
 main in the young man as it was in the 
 child. 
 
 Herein is the unchangeableness and 
 the changeableness of creeds. The true 
 creed, like that which we have just recited, 
 contains the few fundamental expres- 
 sions of the Christian faith. If more 
 than these are expressed, the rising life 
 of Christian thought is bound to shatter 
 the expressions, as it is now doing 
 among the Presbyterians and in some of 
 our Congregational churches. Yet, while 
 our simple creeds remain the same, and 
 while our personal faith remains deeply 
 imbedded in these truths, who can but 
 say that our interpretation of these sym- 
 bols is continually maturing and enrich- 
 ing } For instance, " I believe in God 
 the Father." What wealth of love, sym- 
 pathy, and personal communion is now 
 read into that expression, when the 
 fatherhood in the home is so much more 
 loving than in the days when fathers 
 were more nearly commanders than fa- 
 thers. How much more the sentence, 
 98 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 "Jesus Christ his only Son," means to 
 us than it did a few generations ago, 
 when a partial theology had robbed Him 
 of many of His most human and attrac- 
 tive qualities. What added meaning is 
 there in the statement, " I believe in the 
 Holy Ghost," when we have passed from 
 the mechanical idea of the Spirit into 
 the realization of Him as the personifica- 
 tion and source of all moral and spiritual 
 power? How much we now mean as we 
 speak of the ever adorable Trinity, which 
 our fathers were ignorant of. That doc- 
 trine is no longer a mere logical problem, 
 but the imperfect expression of a vital 
 spiritual truth. 
 
 What, then, is the meaning of those 
 people who say that we want definite 
 teaching, definite dogma, and a definite 
 faith ? If by this is intended such teach- 
 ing, dogma, and faith, that the statement 
 will be final and comprehensive, so 
 that the receptive hearer may take 
 it and rest assured that he has never 
 got to think out problems or struggle 
 with new questions, then, by all means 
 " No ! " We want no company of Jews 
 who think that Christ will tell them 
 99 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 everything plainly and finally. Jesus 
 never did ; for no man ever lived who 
 could grasp a final and complete state- 
 ment of even the least of God's truths. 
 Calvinism and Romanism have both 
 tried it, and have both miserably failed. 
 Calvinism has been shattered, and Ro- 
 manism has been driven to the develop- 
 ment of dogma, to the invention of new 
 and unchristian dogma, in order to keep 
 the ship from going to pieces. 
 
 When, then, you become weary of 
 thinking out religious questions ; when 
 you yearn for some one — some minister, 
 some church, some book — to tell you 
 just what you ought to believe, so that 
 you may not have to think any more ; 
 when you long for some haven of rest 
 from the turmoil of religious doubts, 
 look well to yourself whether it be not 
 the haven of spiritual and intellectual 
 death. Escape from the stress of life, 
 seek the garden in the cool of the even- 
 ing ; aye, sleep on now and take your 
 rest. Meanwhile the enemy is schem- 
 ing and coming forth ; they are close at 
 hand that would betray the Saviour. 
 
 But if by definite teaching, dogma and 
 faith, a man means that he wants to 
 
 lOO 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 bring more clearly before him the deepest 
 truths of Jesus Christ and His Church, 
 then by all means, seek for that faith. 
 
 First, enter more and more deeply 
 into sympathy with the life, the spiritual 
 aims and the character of Jesus Christ ; 
 throw yourself devotedly into His ser- 
 vice. By prayer and close communion, 
 enter into the very heart of God, as the 
 child lays hold of his father's heart. 
 By study of Scripture, of man, of his- 
 tory, and of nature, seize hold of the 
 very life of God. Questions will rise, 
 doubts dim the vision for a while, temp- 
 tations trip the feet ; but when one is 
 walking beside the dearest friend he has, 
 when one is learning of him and drinking 
 in the richest truths, is he to grumble at 
 the cloud mist and a rough path .-' 
 
 Here is the glory of it all, my friends. 
 There are those who are, or think they 
 are, safe in the Church, in authority, 
 in restful, unthinking faith. There are 
 others, intellectual or spiritual laggards, 
 or cowards — some of them, not all — 
 who have retreated into unthinking agnos- 
 ticism. They have given up the whole 
 work of trying to discover God. And 
 there are others, Christians, who have 
 
 lOI 
 
THE UNCHANGEABLENESS AND 
 
 opened their hearts to Jesus Christ and 
 have let God discover them. They have 
 undertaken to follow Jesus, not because 
 it is easiest, not because it saves them 
 thought and intellectual worry, but be- 
 cause a life with Him and in Him is a 
 glorious life. It is the life of one who 
 has found the truth, and definite truth. 
 Not the whole truth, — no, a thousand 
 times no ; not a complete or final state- 
 ment of truth, but truth enough and 
 definite enough to live by. Thus he 
 has before him the vision of a glorious 
 eternity : with Christ as a companion, 
 a guide, a comforter in distress, to enter 
 into the path of the truth-seeker; in 
 the presence of God to enter more and 
 more closely into the thought and know- 
 ledge of God ; rewarded every day with 
 heavy sheaves of truth gathered under 
 sunny and cloudy skies, in joys and sor- 
 rows, but ever expecting and gaining 
 richer rewards. 
 
 And so life goes on with us here. 
 You know that each day and year that 
 you live in company with Christ brings 
 new knowledge of Him. You know 
 that doubts and difficulties which looked 
 insoluble, and which were insoluble, if 
 
 102 
 
THE CHANGEABLENESS OF FAITH 
 
 interpreted without the Christian faith, 
 have solved themselves in the light of 
 His life. 
 
 Oh, the pity of it ! — that men and 
 women, thousands of them about us, Ca- 
 pable of the highest spiritual life, and 
 the noblest character, should live and 
 go to their graves without realizing the 
 beauty, the comfort, and the grandeur 
 of the Christian faith. Oh, that we 
 could move them to it, and bind to it 
 with chains of love ! 
 
 And then the glory of it ! — the glory 
 of an endless life in the boundless love 
 of Jesus Christ ; of walking in the 
 Temple of Truth with the Truth Him- 
 self as its interpreter ; the infinite com- 
 fort in sorrow and inspiration in joy that 
 the same Master and Friend and Bro- 
 ther is leading us here that will lead us 
 into His eternal truth and life forever ! 
 103 
 
VII 
 
 THE priests' taunt ^ 
 
 Some of the noblest truths have been 
 concealed within the taunts and scoffs 
 of men. It was in derision that the 
 courtiers and people of Queen Eliza- 
 beth's day gave to a group of men of ex- 
 treme purity of life the name " Puritan," 
 a title which their descendants have been 
 proud to acknowledge. 
 
 Or again, there arose another group, 
 who, reacting from the ceremonialism 
 and the worldliness of the Established 
 Church, developed a phase of religious 
 life which emphasized the indwelling 
 of the Spirit ; and as they quaked with 
 emotion, while the Spirit moved them, 
 they were given the derisive name of 
 Quakers, a title which with all its ec- 
 centricities has been associated with 
 tranquillity, courage, and the spirit of 
 peace. 
 
 1 St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, March 
 19, 1893. 
 
 104 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 On the road outside Jerusalem hung 
 the body of a Galilean peasant upon a 
 cross. Art and fiction have given the 
 scene a touch of picturesqueness which 
 it did not have in reality. The man who 
 hung there was, in the eyes of those who 
 held the law in their hands, a felon, 
 justly crucified. To be sure, some 
 months before, He had shown unique 
 powers ; He had lifted the sick from 
 their couches and called the dead from 
 the grave. There was something about 
 Him which had appealed to the com- 
 mon people and to the degraded. He 
 had made for Himself high claims ; but 
 to those in power, He was an impostor, 
 a blasphemer, and a deceiver. 
 
 His trial was past, and He had been led 
 out. The first agony had been endured ; 
 death was coming fast upon Him. To 
 those beneath the cross it was incompre- 
 hensible that one who had power over 
 the lives of others, and who had saved 
 them, should not be able to save Himself. 
 No wonder, then, that the chief priests 
 threw the taunt into his teeth, that what 
 He had done for others. He was unable 
 to do for Himself. " Likewise also, the 
 chief priests, mocking him with the 
 105 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 scribes and elders, said, he saved others, 
 himself he cannot save." ^ 
 
 As we hear these words, however, we 
 repeat them again and again with a 
 glad satisfaction, that there hung one 
 who, though a fool in the eyes of the 
 spectators, was in his very foolishness 
 giving to the world the supreme example 
 of self-sacrifice. We think of those men 
 as utterly depraved, that when such a 
 spirit of courage and sacrifice was be- 
 fore them, they could not appreciate 
 it. We class Jesus and the priests as a 
 part of the history of early days, and we 
 find it almost impossible to realize that 
 those two contrasted spirits, especially 
 that of the priests, exist in our lives here 
 and to-day. As we look, however, a little 
 deeper into the principles of those two 
 phases of character, what were the es- 
 sential elements ? On the one side was 
 one who entered this world simply to de- 
 vote himself to the saving of his fellow- 
 men ; on the other, we have men who, 
 respectable and respected by the com- 
 munity, religious in their way, counted 
 good standing and one's own life as the 
 dearest thing in the world. 
 
 1 Matthew xxvii. 41, 42. 
 106 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 We now come to life to-day. I wish I 
 could put it in the form that would seem 
 real and natural to you ; but let us sug- 
 gest these for our illustrations. 
 
 A young man graduates from college, 
 of ample fortune, of excellent social stand- 
 ing, with high prospects for the increase 
 of his fortune in business and the widen- 
 ing of his education by travel, or for a life 
 of leisure. Instead of taking up with these 
 opportunities, he does not enter business, 
 nor travel, nor loaf ; but to the surprise 
 of his friends, and under the deep real- 
 ization that in the present stress of civil- 
 ization, men of the finest temperament, 
 of the best education, and high social 
 standing are needed to save men from sin 
 and degradation, and the community from 
 injustice, he devotes himself, not in a 
 spasm of emotion for a year or two, but 
 for a lifetime, to the personal work of 
 saving souls. His classmates lose sight 
 of him, he is never seen at the club, he 
 is in with an entirely different set of peo- 
 ple ; he is down in the lowest street in 
 the slums, living there. When he is 
 fifty years old, and his friends are sleek 
 and contented in their routine, he is aged 
 and gray and careworn. There is not 
 107 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 the slightest touch of romance to be 
 found about him ; he has simply been 
 doing a hard and thankless piece of 
 work. His friends, as they discuss his 
 life, wonder what he has done that for. 
 Here were opportunities which he has 
 thrown away, friendships which he has 
 lost, happy years which have been no- 
 thing to him, and what has he to show 
 for it .'' Nothing but an endless run of 
 committee meetings and charity associ- 
 ations, and a long story of discourage- 
 ments, reformed men who have broken 
 their pledge, boys whom he has worked 
 over who have turned out badly. While, 
 to be sure, he has been successful in cer- 
 tain ways, exactly what ways or how 
 successful they know not and care little. 
 " Why," his friends say, " he has spent 
 his whole life in trying to save others, 
 and he has not taken the trouble to 
 save anything for himself, either in the 
 way of comfort or pleasure or money." 
 Do we not herein catch a note of the 
 priests' surprise or derision .'' He has 
 wasted his life saving others, and he 
 has not had the sense to save anything 
 for himself. 
 
 Occasionally, some woman of high 
 1 08 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 rank breaks from ordinary associations 
 of life, and enters with all devotion into 
 the work of saving souls. She does not 
 mind if in the doing of this she offends 
 the conventional ideas of her class. How 
 quickly, however, comes the criticism, — 
 the suggestion of eccentricity, or of am- 
 bition, or emotionalism ; how prone we 
 are to suspect of fanaticism any one who 
 breaks out from the conventional circle 
 and takes up, with a complete devotion to 
 Christ, the work for humanity. 
 
 As we see such careers in the vista of 
 history, and hear their names as they have 
 been canonized by the Church, and catch 
 a glimpse of their faces in the stained 
 windows, there is a picturesqueness to 
 the careers. But if we had lived in the 
 days of those saints, we would have 
 found the same commonplace features 
 that we find in the devoted of to-day. 
 We have not got to go back a half cen- 
 tury to find those, who, having thrown 
 away their fortunes and positions in 
 behalf of humanity, have met from a 
 large part of the community the taunt 
 of the priests ; they have been called ec- 
 centrics, or fanatics, or fools, or knaves. 
 
 But, as I have already said, as soon as 
 109 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 the picturesque feature of self-sacrifice 
 appears, it appeals to us in a way that 
 the commonplace self-sacrifice cannot. 
 
 Still, even in the name of picturesque- 
 ness, Christian self-sacrifice has a claim 
 upon the civilization of these days. 
 There is, as we well know, a common 
 impression among the finely cultured, 
 the over-sensitive, and the artistic, that 
 the Christian religion is rather a com- 
 monplace affair. We hear a good deal 
 about the Philistinism of the religion 
 of the middle classes, of the crudities of 
 some of their worship, of the vulgarity 
 of the Salvation Army, and of the nasal 
 voice of the exhorter. We are familiar 
 with the taunt that the religion of these 
 days is very commonplace and uninter- 
 esting. But after all, my friends, is not 
 life on the whole, if looked at from the 
 picturesque point of view, very common- 
 place and uninteresting.'' There is no- 
 thing that touches us or our finer natures 
 in the ledgers and in the stores and in 
 the thousands of dressmakers and shop- 
 keepers ; the whole thing is common- 
 place, if we must look at life from that 
 point of view. 
 
 On the other hand, this fact stands, 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 that with all the commonplaceness of re- 
 ligious life, it affords, in this generation, 
 as it has in all the generations since 
 Christ hung upon the cross, the most 
 beautiful, the most picturesque, the most 
 unique features of courage and of self- 
 sacrifice. 
 
 Is it not so ? Do not even those who 
 pass a dilettante life in the study of art 
 and literature and in the reading of 
 novels, who rarely stir themselves to any 
 self-denial of their own, but who turn 
 with avidity to the picturesque self-sac- 
 rifice of others, do not they turn to Chris- 
 tian art and to Christian history to get 
 their blood stirred with the noblest act 
 of self-sacrifice ? Is it irritating to be 
 obliged to appeal to Christian self-sacri- 
 fice on the ground of picturesqueness ? 
 Certainly, it is not a high appeal ; but if 
 that is what some people count as the 
 most interesting and most enviable thing 
 in life in these days, then let us who are 
 Christians claim that for Christ. And 
 from the romantic stories and martyr- 
 doms of the missionaries of the last 
 twenty-five years, from the story of Gor- 
 don, and Damien, and from the instances 
 of devotion in all countries of Christen- 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 dom, let us claim for Christianity a pic- 
 turesqueness and an interest and a ro- 
 mance which is brilliant and glorious as 
 compared with the dull cynicism of an 
 over-ripe culture. 
 
 Here, now, we come to the truth ; that 
 at some time or other, one has got to 
 make his choice between the spirit of the 
 priest and the spirit of Christ. We are 
 all conscious of the same effort to hold 
 the spirit of both, but it is an impossibility. 
 We have got to save others, or save our- 
 selves. Life must have its compensations. 
 There cannot be gains without losses, or 
 losses without gains. The soldier who 
 cares to have his name cut in the tablets of 
 Memorial Hall as a call of patriotism to 
 the coming generations cannot have that 
 glory and at the same time save his life. 
 The scholar who is intent upon the dis- 
 covery of some deep truth, and who will 
 have that truth, even though he deny 
 himself what others call the very essen- 
 tials of life, must be content to risk his 
 health, comfort, pleasure, and fortune, 
 and to lose them, if by so doing he can 
 gain the truth. In other words, to come 
 back to one of the fundamental facts of 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 life as well as of the philosophy of Christ, 
 if a man will lose his life for others, he 
 will find it, but if he is bent on finding 
 only his own life, he will be sure to lose 
 it. In all the intricacies of modern civil- 
 ization, the variety of motives, the multi- 
 plicity of rewards, it is very difficult in 
 practical life to keep this fundamental 
 distinction clear ; but there it is, and it is 
 the part and the duty of every man to 
 use his reason and his character in order 
 to try to discover what for him are the 
 lines of movement in the carrying out of 
 the principle. 
 
 I want now to speak rather plainly as 
 to a few of the duties which, as it strikes 
 me, the Christian life of to-day lays upon 
 us. I am not going to say a word that 
 is not familiar to you all, and yet it may 
 be that the emphasis of a familiar word 
 will come with some added force. 
 
 The fact is that there are certain 
 questions and sorrows and sins facing 
 us in these days that have got to be 
 met. They are not going to be met by 
 pessimists or cynics ; they are not going 
 to be met by those who are sitting in 
 easy chairs, and bemoaning the degraded 
 113 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 condition of politics and of society ; they 
 are not going to be met, in fact, in any 
 way but by an enormous amount of self- 
 consecration and self-sacrifice on the 
 part of Christian people. 
 
 Ingersoll and his followers may scoff 
 at Christians and their selfishness, and 
 they may have good reason to do so, but 
 neither he nor his followers are found 
 working in the city slums. When work 
 is to be done, it is to the Christian 
 world and to the Church that modern 
 society has got to turn, and has a right 
 to turn, and to them it does turn. Now 
 these facts are staring us in the face : 
 that there is in our large cities, and in 
 the same proportion in our smaller cities, 
 and in equal if not in greater proportion 
 in our country towns, a horde of degraded 
 and vicious people ; — we may call them 
 the offscourings of other nations, or the 
 degraded of our own ; you may speak of 
 them in the North as hoodlums, or in 
 the South as poor whites, the fact stands 
 that here they are ; — that there are 
 drunkards and fallen women by the tens 
 of thousands ; that our poor-houses,. our 
 insane asylums, and our state prisons are 
 crowded as fast as we build them ; that 
 114 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 the increase of our cities is herding our 
 population in a way that sends a shock 
 through our natures ; that the sweating 
 system is with us, as it was in the Lon- 
 don of Dickens and Charles Reade ; and 
 that only a small fraction of our popula- 
 tion is found inside of church on Sun- 
 day, and that a very large fraction is 
 going without any practical or effective 
 knowledge of Christ at all. 
 
 "This is true," you say, "but this is 
 only one phase of our modern civiliza- 
 tion." "It is peculiar to large cities." 
 "We are on the whole improving; we 
 have our public schools and our churches 
 and our charitable organizations, as a con- 
 stant force towards the uplifting of the 
 community." Again I suggest that while 
 the masses may be in the larger cities, 
 the same features are everywhere. There 
 is not one of the evil features that I have 
 mentioned which we associate with East 
 London and New York and the North 
 End of Boston, and which we say should 
 be eradicated in those cities, which does 
 not exist in this city of Cambridge, in 
 its proportion. "Ah ! but then, the leg- 
 islature is at work on some of these 
 questions, and the experts are studying 
 115 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 other features of them ; the reformers 
 and the doctors are putting their shoul- 
 ders to the wheel, and the ministers are 
 in the midst of the battle ; we hear of 
 the increase of charity institutions and 
 university houses. Surely the people are 
 doing a great deal." Yes, they are do- 
 ing a great deal ; but who are the legis- 
 lators and charity workers, unless they 
 be a few of the great body of the peo- 
 ple .'' They are no class by themselves, 
 set apart for such things. They are 
 ordinary men and women just like your- 
 selves, who, losing some of the chances 
 of fortune, are trying to do something 
 for somebody else. 
 
 What, then, I want to say, is that the 
 men and women and the children of the 
 degraded, of the pagan and of the out- 
 cast, have got to be saved ; and in the 
 name of civilization and of Christ, some- 
 body has got to help. And that help is 
 not going to be given by spasms of emo- 
 tion, or by reading the newspapers and 
 the periodicals, or by an occasional half- 
 hour ; but by determined and life-long 
 self-sacrifice. 
 
 In the first place, any man or woman 
 who has not upon him a deep sense of 
 ii6 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 responsibility for the salvation of some- 
 body else, who throws it off as soon as 
 he puts his hand into his pocket and 
 has given some change to the beggar or 
 a few hundred dollars for the employ- 
 ment of the unemployed, who has no 
 idea of bringing his life into personal 
 contact with the life of some one who 
 needs it, who is not ready to give up 
 some of the pleasanter features of life 
 in order that he may lay a hand to this 
 immediate work, even though he be con- 
 firmed and a communicant a dozen times, 
 has not in him the first element of 
 Christ's spirit. 
 
 This, of course, is true, that special 
 lines of work have got to be taken by 
 men and women specially trained and 
 devoted to that work. But the question 
 that I ask is, Why should not there be, 
 in a community like this and in a con- 
 gregation like this, one person or an- 
 other, here or there, who determines 
 with the fullest consecration that they 
 will give their life for such special work ? 
 In every group of young men, there are 
 one, two, or half a dozen who have for- 
 tune enough not to call them to enter 
 business, who are free enough to be 
 117 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 men of leisure, and who may be men 
 of leisure if they be not something far 
 nobler, — men of devotion. This, it 
 seems to me, is one of the highest calls 
 of heroism for the next generation. The 
 past generation had its call in the war, 
 and it is wonderful to think what those 
 young men did, what tremendous con- 
 centration of power there was, how un- 
 known elements of character sprung 
 forth at the bidding of the country. As 
 Phillips Brooks once told me, the morn- 
 ing after he had passed an evening with 
 the Loyal Legion and heard the talk of 
 the veterans, " Why, the war was fought 
 by a lot of boys ! They were all so 
 young ! " And as we think of the un- 
 developed powers and devotion and self- 
 sacrifice that are resting in this com- 
 munity now, our imagination can hardly 
 reach the possibility of work that might 
 be done, if a fraction of them would 
 throw themselves into the salvation of 
 some of the people of this generation, 
 as did those of the last for the saving 
 of the nation. 
 
 Why should not, then, a young man 
 give himself, not necessarily to the min- 
 istry, but to the skilled, intelligent, and 
 ii8 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 devoted work of some phase of social 
 uplifting, and in the name of Christ 
 throw some of the compensations of life 
 away in order that he may gain the 
 higher compensation of souls won to 
 purity and to Christ ? 
 
 I make the same appeal to the women. 
 One is bewildered by the opportunities ; 
 and one sometimes feels as if the emer- 
 gency were such that a good part of the 
 community might well turn their hand 
 towards special work calling for special 
 skill and devotion. 
 
 " Ah ! " you say, " is there no danger 
 of unsettling us ? Most of us have our 
 home duties, families to support, chil- 
 dren to bring up, aged parents to care 
 for, ties which are as sacred to us as 
 any of these obligations." True, and 
 no call of Christ's can ever be stronger 
 than the call to devotion in the homes. 
 None of us have sympathy with philan- 
 thropists who neglect their home duties 
 for society's welfare, and thus undo the 
 very work they are trying to do. Do not 
 understand me as depreciating the char- 
 itable and religious work that is being 
 done by the thousands of men and women 
 who have their home duties. It is one 
 119 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 of the hopeful features of the day, the 
 number of people who go from their 
 homes to pass a few hours each week in 
 work for others. The very fact that 
 they come from a home and are not spe- 
 cialists gives a charm and an atmosphere 
 to their work. This is all good and 
 great. 
 
 But I have tried to put in strong words 
 the call for special work by those who 
 have the freedom to enter it. 
 
 And now let me close by speaking 
 also for the call for the home-work by 
 those whose duty keeps them at home. 
 The whole question resolves itself, it 
 seems to me, into this — into the spirit 
 in which we undertake our home duties. 
 Is it with any narrow sympathy or social 
 ambition that we devote ourselves to 
 our duties there .'' Are we bringing up 
 our children simply with a hope that 
 they are going to be a little better than 
 we are .'' Or have we, deep down, as our 
 commanding motive the full spirit of 
 consecration, that we shall throw our- 
 selves into our home-life in order that 
 we may do the very best that we can for 
 God and for humanity, in order that we 
 may bring our children up, not in the 
 
THE PRIESTS' TAUNT 
 
 narrow horizon of what is called society 
 life, but in the wider horizon that so- 
 ciety life is not for its own amusement, 
 but for the cultivation and the uplifting 
 of the whole society ? 
 
 Have we for the highest motive this, 
 that our children — or if we are young, 
 that by our example, our younger bro- 
 thers and sisters — shall be completely 
 devoted to leading a life after Christ ; 
 that they shall do everything in their 
 power to touch this one and that one 
 with the spirit of Christ ? In other 
 words, have we it on our minds that the 
 great work of life is not to keep well fed 
 and clothed and pass life smoothly, but 
 to help other people to try to make 
 other people better, to save other people ? 
 Have we it as our supreme privilege to 
 bring other people to the life in Christ 
 at the cost of our own pride and self- 
 satisfaction ? Have we as the highest 
 word that can be spoken of us, the scoff 
 of the priest, " He saved others, but as 
 for himself, he has thrown away what 
 we call the pleasures and satisfactions of 
 life ; he has not saved himself ? " 
 
VIII 
 
 THREE CHARACTERS ^ 
 
 You recall the story that is told in the 
 fifth chapter of the Acts about the re- 
 lease of St. Peter and the other apostles 
 from the prison into which they had been 
 put by command of the high priest, the 
 report of the officers that their former 
 prisoners were teaching in the Temple, 
 the second arrest, and their appearance 
 before the council of the Sanhedrim. 
 
 It is of this council, or rather of three 
 different characters that appear in it, 
 that I want to speak this morning. 
 These are the high priest and Sanhe- 
 drim, Gamaliel, and the apostles. For, 
 in our study, I think we shall find they 
 stand for something more than them- 
 selves. They represent three types of 
 character which are found in every age 
 or council of men where a new truth is 
 called in question. My hope, therefore, is 
 
 1 St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, April 
 26, 1891. 
 
 122 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 not to study and leave these men in Jeru- 
 salem, but to bring them into the midst 
 of the questions and councils of to-day. 
 
 In the midst of a people who were 
 conservative by nature and history, and 
 who took a pardonable pride in their re- 
 ligion and the deep truths that had been 
 revealed to them, there suddenly appeared 
 a small group of men proclaiming a new 
 truth, a Messiah ; one who was to do 
 away with the old regime, and set up a 
 new, a larger, and a truer spiritual king- 
 dom. And, as if to add insult to injury, 
 these teachers of new doctrine had 
 thrown upon the representatives of the 
 old order the responsibility of the cruci- 
 fixion of their Master, who, however, 
 had risen again, and now, in the person 
 of the apostles and the power of His 
 Spirit, was ready to renew the struggle. 
 
 As, then, we enter the council in im- 
 agination this morning, the first charac- 
 ters that call our attention are the high 
 priest and the members of the Sanhe- 
 drim ; for in position they are most con- 
 spicuous, being the judges, and in stren- 
 uousness of voice they drown the words 
 of the others. 
 
 123 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 In such a deliberative assembly, a 
 shrill or strident voice usually betokens 
 weakness on the part of the speaker. He 
 either lacks confidence in the strength 
 of his argument or his method of treat- 
 ment, or he wants faith in the supremacy 
 of truth. He therefore is driven to 
 substitute noise for reason, epithets for 
 arguments, and force for persuasion. 
 
 These were just the weak points of 
 these so-called judges and interpreters. 
 They have been and still are the weak 
 points of their successors in character 
 to this day. 
 
 We have, for instance, inherited the 
 beliefs of our fathers, and we treasure 
 them. But new phases of truth appear ; 
 the discoveries of science call on us to 
 readjust our ideas as to the antiquity of 
 the world and of man. The students 
 of history appeal to us to change our 
 views as to some of the books of the Old 
 Testament, and our theory of the inspi- 
 ration of the Bible. It may be that the 
 movement of our thought calls upon us 
 to sound deeper depths than these, and 
 to test the fundamentals of our faith. 
 
 At all events, new phases of truth in 
 all directions make a demand that each 
 124 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 of US shall think, judge, and discriminate. 
 How shall we meet those who in all 
 sincerity bring forth these new phases ? 
 The two methods which the followers 
 of the Sanhedrim used have been tried 
 again and again, and have failed. 
 
 Force in suppression of truth must 
 necessarily fail. Every time that you 
 attempt to imprison those who have a 
 word to say for truth, and every time 
 that you try to shut down the latest dis- 
 covery, you have over again the history 
 of the apostles. In some mysterious 
 way the prison doors are opened. No 
 earthly keepers, no Roman emperor, no 
 soldiers of the Vatican, no condemna- 
 tion or burning of heretics, whether 
 a Galileo, a Servetus, or a Huss, has 
 succeeded in suppressing their voices. 
 Sometime, it may not be for generations, 
 it is found that God's angel has thrown 
 open the prison doors, and that their 
 voices are heard in the great temple of 
 the world's thought and activities. 
 
 The ashes of the body of Wycliffe, cast 
 into the brook, tell in familiar parable 
 the story of all such effort : — 
 
 " As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear 
 Into the Avon, Avon to the tide 
 
 125 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas, 
 Into main ocean they, this deed accursed 
 An emblem yields to friends and enemies 
 How the bold teacher's doctrine, sanctified 
 By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dis- 
 persed." 
 
 The Church is discovering by experi- 
 ence, though occasionally we are warned 
 that the discovery is not complete, what 
 she might have learned centuries ago 
 by heeding Christ's words, that truth 
 cannot be suppressed by force : " My 
 kingdom is not of this world ; if my 
 kingdom were of this world, then would 
 my servants fight." 
 
 Failing this, the Church and Christian 
 people have not yet freed themselves 
 from another dangerous and useless 
 weapon of suppression. To-day public 
 opinion wields the power that armies of 
 trained men used to have. And popular 
 prejudice may, if skilfully played upon, 
 fulfil the work of the sword and stake. 
 
 It was a weapon which the Jewish 
 priests and the Pharisees knew how to 
 wield, as they led the people on to de- 
 mand the crucifixion ; it is a weapon 
 which men and women who love their 
 own opinions more dearly than the truth 
 wield skilfully to-day. 
 126 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 A new phase of thought makes itself 
 heard in a community. Earnest and 
 pure-minded men and women, whose in- 
 telligence gives them a right to speak, 
 stand sponsor for it. Whether it is true 
 or not may be in doubt : but that it has 
 a right to a hearing and a deliberative 
 judgment would seem to be hardly an 
 open question. Yet, almost before its 
 statement is made, before men know 
 exactly what the new doctrine is, the 
 appeal to popular prejudice begins : epi- 
 thets are bandied about. Because one 
 does not believe about the Scriptures as 
 his neighbor does, he is said to be throw- 
 ing away the Scriptures ; because one 
 is, as far as he understands it, a believer 
 in evolution, he is called an atheist ; be- 
 cause one does not hold certain views 
 about the ministry, or it may be about 
 some detail of ritual, he is called "no 
 Churchman," and so on in wearisome 
 iteration. 
 
 These are not exaggerations. Within 
 a few weeks I have had a young man 
 come to me in distress, because he had 
 been told by a Christian friend that he 
 was an unbeliever. And on inquiry I 
 found that the reason for such an accu- 
 127 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 sation was that the young man did not 
 believe that the world was made in six 
 days. 
 
 And the fault is not all on one side. 
 If Christian believers and conservative 
 supporters of the faith are to blame for 
 substituting prejudice for argument, the 
 unbeliever meets the same temptation. 
 What shall we say of a man like Mr. 
 Huxley, who, respected and an authority 
 in his own pursuits, systematically blinds 
 his eyes to the movements of Christian 
 thought, and perversely interpreting the 
 Scriptures and Christian truth after a 
 method now discarded by the leading 
 religious minds, appeals to popular pre- 
 judice against Christian truth .'' 
 
 Have we not in such a spirit the type 
 of the high priest and the Sanhedrim, 
 just as clearly as we find it in the petty 
 religionist who misinterprets science for 
 his own purposes .-' 
 
 No, my friends, the whole business of 
 suppression of thought by epithet and 
 appeal to prejudice shows lamentable 
 weakness of faith in the truth that we 
 hold. If we are afraid to have our 
 creeds and our dearest faiths meet the 
 open light of day, if we must hold them 
 128 
 
THREE CPIARACTERS 
 
 away from examination and criticism, 
 then we may well question if they are 
 God's truths ; for how can the truth 
 itself be afraid to meet the face of the 
 truth-seeker? Shall we not rather wel- 
 come him as a friend on the same quest 
 for truth ? 
 
 When, then, my friend, you find your- 
 self casting an epithet at one with whom 
 you disagree, when you are about to 
 suppress his statement with a slur at 
 his unbelief or at his orthodoxy, check 
 yourself. Ask yourself, is it worthy of 
 the truth to treat it so ? is it worthy of 
 yourself ? does it betoken a confidence 
 in your truth, or a latent weakness of 
 faith ? Persuasion, not oppression, is 
 the weapon of the faithful. 
 
 How different, then, is the large faith 
 and the confidence in the truth of one 
 member of the Sanhedrim, the second 
 subject of our study, Gamaliel, — Gama- 
 liel, the teacher of Paul in his youth, 
 the most learned and respected of the 
 Rabbles ; the only one of them all who 
 had the courage to allow his students 
 to read the Greek authors ; a man whose 
 studies and experience had given him a 
 129 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 large vision of truth, and tlierefore a wide 
 charity and tolerance of varied forms and 
 interpreters of truth. 
 
 The sharp words of the others, be- 
 tokening their weak position, sound in 
 the hall, and their querulous accusation 
 is repeated, " Did we not straitly com- 
 mand you that ye should not teach in 
 this name ? and behold ye have filled 
 Jerusalem with your doctrine, and intend 
 to bring this man's blood upon us." 
 Then, in response to the challenge of 
 Peter, " We ought to obey God rather 
 than men," they add violence to accu- 
 sation and take counsel to slay him. 
 
 How strong, deep, and reassuring is 
 the word of the great teacher ! Gama- 
 liel appeals to their experience and to 
 their deeper faith. God has His truth in 
 charge. Theudas and Judas were once 
 new and popular lights, but their error 
 carried their own condemnation ; they 
 both perished, and their followers were 
 dispersed. Why, then, when God had 
 thus justified Himself, should the San- 
 hedrim now undertake to anticipate God 
 in this doubtful matter.? "Now I say 
 unto you. Refrain from these men and 
 let them alone : for if this counsel or 
 130 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 this work be of men, it will come to 
 naught. But if it be of God, ye cannot 
 overthrow it : lest haply ye be found 
 even to fight against God." 
 
 It is the word of a true philosopher. 
 For the wider our experience and the 
 larger our vision, the slower will we be 
 to dogmatize on the truth or error of any 
 given man. Truth sits at the helm of 
 life ; why not trust her ? Why should we 
 go rushing about here and there, trim- 
 ming our sails to every little flaw of wind ? 
 Why should we feel it necessary to set 
 our judgment on every little movement 
 which seems to be for or against our in- 
 terpretation of the truth ? Why try to 
 head off every little symptom of hetero- 
 doxy in the Church, and to suppress 
 every man, be he small or great, who 
 thinks that he has discovered some- 
 thing .'' Take things in a philosophic 
 spirit ; have such confidence in the final 
 victory of God that you will not chafe 
 and fret at the loss of a little skirmish. 
 
 There is a great truth in all this. Ga- 
 maliel is great. This Gamaliel spirit 
 finds its home in universities and centres 
 of wide thought and experience. It is 
 one of the great conserving influences 
 131 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 which Cambridge has sent and still 
 sends through the country, this faith 
 in God, that will allow God, through His 
 chosen servants in civic and religious 
 and social life, to quietly and gradually 
 reform society and lead men to higher 
 visions and nobler ideals. It is a calm 
 faith which is at once the support and 
 the irritant of the ardent reformer. The 
 enthusiast accepts the fact of God in 
 charge of the truth, but he chafes at the 
 slow movement and at the calm spirit of 
 those who seem to be content to have 
 it slow. " If the thing is not of God, 
 away with it," cries the ardent practical 
 worker. "If of God, support it." Ac- 
 tion, enthusiasm, is his motto. "True ! " 
 answers the philosopher, " but time and 
 experience must assure us which is of 
 God, and which not ; be patient ; trust 
 God." 
 
 Noble and assuring as all this is, 
 can you not see the weak spot in it .'' 
 weak just where Gamaliel was weak ; 
 and just where men and institutions of 
 wider vision are weak to-day. 
 
 Apart from the rush and strivings of 
 practical life, they give their calm judg- 
 ment, and then shrink from taking part 
 132 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 in the action. Let the high priest scold 
 and the apostles suffer, the truth will 
 result in the end. Let the small men of 
 activity to-day struggle in their restless 
 way with the problems of life. Whether 
 this or that form of reformation is the 
 best ; whether Christianity or cultivated 
 paganism is to rule in society is an open 
 question ; whether gambling is harm- 
 less or degrading is an interesting prob- 
 lem ; whether intemperance in our com- 
 munities is to be lessened by this or that 
 method is not easily decided ; but how- 
 ever these things are settled, God has His 
 truth in hand ; things will come out right 
 in the end, and the ultimate result will 
 be for truth. 
 
 Thus practical indifference takes the 
 place of a noble faith, and a cultivated 
 ease finds its justification in a great 
 truth, and the great philosopher be- 
 comes the patronizing critic of his age 
 and surroundings. Gamaliel uttered his 
 noble thought, and then sat calmly by, 
 while innocent men who spoke for what 
 they believed to be the truth were cru- 
 elly beaten. He spoke for fair play, and 
 then would not lift a hand to see that 
 fair play was given. 
 
 ^33 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 And the Gamaliel of to-day sits in his 
 study or his chair at the club, and talks of 
 large problems of life and elevation of 
 politics and saving of the degraded ; he 
 is the patron of truth in all forms ; he 
 has nothing to say for Christ or against 
 Him ; in his superior judicial position, 
 he is anxious only to see that all ideas 
 have a fair chance ; but what he needs 
 to make him a full man is to test some 
 of his large thoughts in action, and to be 
 ready not only to talk, but to suffer for 
 the truth's sake, and even like the apos- 
 tles to rejoice that he is counted worthy 
 to suffer shame in the name of his 
 truth. If the Christian Church had 
 been obliged to depend upon the Gama- 
 liels, it would not have survived the gen- 
 eration. It is a great deed to open up 
 and smooth the road for the onward 
 march of truth ; but it is a greater deed 
 to march on the road as the teacher and 
 apostle of truth. 
 
 Now we find the greatest of the three 
 types of character in the council, — the 
 apostles. Thank God, there have been 
 and are such men ; and they are the 
 noblest men of all time. Their large 
 134 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 and faithful characters throw open the 
 windows of life so that the light of truth 
 can enter ; they give every seeker for the 
 truth his oj^portunity to speak. But they 
 also, like the apostle, have some truth 
 to speak and live for. Their action is 
 not going to blind their eyes to the truth 
 which other men have to give, and their 
 wide vision and calm faith are not going 
 to weaken the intensity of purpose and 
 sense of responsibility to turn all their 
 powers to the upholding of truth. 
 
 Oh ! how I wish that you, who in this 
 place and scholastic atmosphere have 
 opportunity to gain a wide vision, to 
 have calm confidence in God's truth, and 
 amidst clashing opinions to trust that God 
 will in time reveal His truth, and who 
 can afford to be tolerant of others' con- 
 victions, would also draw into your char- 
 acters a burning enthusiasm to work 
 with God in the application of His truth ; 
 with the Spirit of God go to His children 
 and speak to them of Him ; go to those 
 who have forgotten Him, and rouse them 
 by your word and life to a fresh convic- 
 tion of His comforting presence ; go as 
 does the missionary to those who know 
 not His name, and rejoice to work, live, 
 135 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 and suffer for the truth's sake, aye, for 
 Christ's sake. For in Him you have the 
 consummation of the Gamaliels and the 
 apostles, the philosophers and the work- 
 ers. 
 
 You cannot say that the two spirits, 
 that of the philosopher and the worker, 
 are inconsistent and impossible in the 
 same man while the life of Jesus stands 
 before you. 
 
 Was there ever a man so self-poised 
 in his faith in the final victory of truth, 
 so patient in waiting for her .-' " My 
 Father worketh hitherto and I work." 
 No violence, suppression, or appeal to 
 prejudice was ever His. He was tolerant. 
 " Put up again thy sword into his place, 
 for all they that take the sword shall 
 perish with the sword." "Thy kingdom 
 come " was his prayer ; but when, how, 
 and where was in God's hands, and He 
 was content to wait. So great was His 
 confidence in His Father's truth, that 
 He who saved others refused to save 
 Himself. Greater, far greater, than Ga- 
 maliel, in His confidence in the truth ; 
 greater, far greater than Peter, in His 
 life's activity and sacrifice for the truth ; 
 embosomed with the Father, He gave 
 136 
 
THREE CHARACTERS 
 
 Himself in every hour of the day, in 
 every detail, in meeting the meanest and 
 lowest, with the perfect abandonment 
 of self, to the uplifting of His brethren. 
 This, then, is the sum of the whole 
 matter : be patient, trust God and His 
 truth ; be full of action, work for God 
 and His truth. 
 
 137 
 
IX 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE ^ 
 
 There are certain crises in life when 
 the prime object is not to gain new 
 strength or knowledge, not to enter into 
 new experiences, but simply to stand 
 still and gather to one's self the experi- 
 ences of the past and the anticipations 
 of the future, in order that the future 
 may be more effectively met. There is, 
 you know, the supreme moment of the 
 athlete, when just before the race he calls 
 to his aid all his experience, strength, 
 and training, casts his eye on the goal, 
 and stands ready for the word. It is the 
 hour in which the soldier, hearing the 
 guns at the front, quickly touches every 
 part of his equipment to be sure that all 
 is in place, recollects himself, his home, 
 his orders, his duty, and is then eager 
 for the charge. 
 
 Of like character, my friends of the 
 
 1 Baccalaureate Sermon, Appleton Chapel, Har- 
 vard University, June 15, 1891. 
 138 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 class of Ninety-one, is this moment in 
 which we stand. You do not ask me to 
 give you new thoughts. At all events, 
 I am not able to give them. What we 
 want, as I understand, is simply to gather 
 ourselves together, to rally to ourselves 
 the experience and principles of the 
 past with reference to the future ; and 
 so to be more vigorous, more intelligent 
 and more truly ambitious in our new 
 life. 
 
 As I mention this new life, the life 
 outside the college walls, in business, 
 profession, and social activities, one ques- 
 tion rises for answer, — is it so new as 
 some of us think .-• Is there, in principle 
 at least, that sharp break between the 
 university life and the business life, for 
 instance, that many men emphasize .-• Is 
 there in the man who happens to be a 
 senior to-day and a clerk, or a law-stu- 
 dent, or a young politician, next October, 
 anything inherently different in princi- 
 ple ? If so, something is wrong, either 
 in the university or the social fabric. Of 
 course, in his practical and to a certain 
 degree in his intellectual and moral re- 
 lations, a man may change. He may 
 become a harder worker, he will be more 
 139 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 mature in judgment and more conserva- 
 tive in life, but — and this is the point 
 I want to emphasize this afternoon — 
 the principles which inhere in the true 
 university life are the same principles 
 that inhere in the true social life. 
 Rightly considered, the ideal college 
 man is the ideal citizen. Being deeply 
 convinced of this, I, as I have already 
 said, have nothing new to give you. My 
 one object is to try, as it were, to gather 
 together a few of your university prin- 
 ciples, and see what preparation and 
 experience they have given you to meet 
 the demands of this generation. It is 
 with this motive that I have chosen this 
 text for our suggestion. 
 
 "And Elijah took twelve stones, ac- 
 cording to the number of the tribes of 
 Judah. . . . And with the stones he 
 built an altar in the name of the Lord." ^ 
 
 When the people of Israel were about 
 to enter into a new era of their history, 
 the leader, Elijah, as he rebuilt their 
 altar, built it not of new material and 
 on a new site; but, with the instinct 
 of a true statesman who knows the 
 worth of historic continuity and ances- 
 
 1 I Kings xviii. 31-32. 
 140 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 tral associations, he gathered together 
 the twelve old stones, endeared by many 
 memories, rebuilt the old altar along the 
 old lines, and thus announced to the 
 people that their new life was to be 
 the continuance of what was best in the 
 old. 
 
 As one looks out upon life to-day, with 
 its intense activity and magnificent 
 achievements, he cannot but be im- 
 pressed with one characteristic arising 
 from the very intensity and activity of 
 interest, — a tendency on the part of each 
 man to confine himself and his sympa- 
 thies to the profession, business, or call- 
 ing which he has chosen. 
 
 Division of labor has developed with 
 wonderful rapidity, and with the de- 
 mands of trade and the increase of in- 
 ventions it is sure to develop into more 
 thorough and exact proportions. As a 
 mechanical and financial economy (and 
 this has been the first consideration), its 
 results have been marvellous. But the 
 question for the rising generation is as 
 to its effect on the individual character 
 and the people as a whole. 
 
 I speak not only of labor divisions in 
 141 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 the lower mechanical lines, in factory 
 towns where it is most easily seen, but 
 in the higher callings. The realm of 
 study is so large and the work demanded 
 so thorough that a man in order to be 
 successful is pressed to turn his life and 
 interest in one narrow line : the classi- 
 cal scholar may spend his life on a small 
 section of philology, the entomologist on 
 one insect, the lawyer on one principle 
 of law, the theologian on one detail of 
 doctrine. 
 
 Hence the statement is made that in 
 order to secure success in the next gen- 
 eration a man must narrow himself to 
 one line of interest, and be content to 
 be a narrow man. Granted this, and 
 you have submitted to the demoraliza- 
 tion of the individual. For you have 
 laid upon the men of the highest ambi- 
 tion the necessity of being narrow men. 
 You have demanded that all scientists 
 shall follow the example of their master 
 of this century, Darwin — so great and 
 at the same time so limited — and lose 
 interest in poetry and religion. You 
 have compelled the politician to be 
 merely a politician, the meanest of men 
 when lost to nobler sympathies and the 
 142 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 higher welfare of society. You have 
 driven the business man to be only a 
 money-maker, with no interest in the 
 wider benefits of commerce ; and you 
 have doomed the lawyer to a narrow life 
 of practice, without sympathy with the 
 deeper principles of law whose " seat is 
 the bosom of God." 
 
 And this is just what for lack of 
 nobler ideals many men are being driven 
 to, or are drifting to. With this spirit 
 existing in individuals, we shall have 
 society formed of unsympathetic groups 
 and atoms, incapable of common action, 
 perpetually misunderstanding each other, 
 lost in petty squabbles, science against 
 religion, trade against statesmanship, 
 politicians against the fundamentals of 
 morality as expressed in the golden rule, 
 scholars against manufacturers, class 
 against class. Granted this apology for 
 a narrow life, for a specialist who is only 
 a specialist and nothing more, and you 
 have lost one of the noblest objects and 
 ideals of university life. No such opin- 
 ion can obtain in a true university, and 
 no such conviction is worthy of a true 
 university man. For if a university 
 stands for anything, it stands for the 
 143 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 development of the full man of large 
 character and wide sympathies, inspired 
 with an intense interest in his own 
 peculiar line of work. 
 
 This, I suppose, is what brought you 
 to Cambridge. You might have gained 
 the same fitting for your profession in a 
 technical school, a commercial college, 
 or under private tutors. You might 
 have gained that and more in a college 
 which was dominated by the influence of 
 one teacher or a small group of strong 
 men. But you have come here to gain 
 the knowledge and at the same time to 
 breathe the atmosphere and absorb the 
 culture which the wide interests of a 
 university create. Your science will be 
 no less that of an expert because studied 
 in a classic atmosphere, and your cul- 
 ture will thereby be larger ; your prin- 
 ciples in literature and art will be no 
 less true because you have studied them 
 in the company of chemists and geolo- 
 gists ; and your religious life will be no 
 less deep because cultivated in a place 
 where other interests group themselves 
 and may be drawn into her service. It 
 is suggestive that at Harvard the degree 
 in theology, medicine, or law comes not 
 144 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 from the professional school, but from 
 the university, as though the mother 
 would give her children no token with- 
 out the accompaniment of her full, large, 
 and rich character. 
 
 I have dwelt on this, perhaps too much, 
 because I wish to press home upon you 
 the spirit in which the true university 
 man takes up his life work, intensely in- 
 terested in his own pursuit and widely 
 sympathetic with all that concerns man. 
 It sounds very simple, but some of you 
 will find its practice very difficult. The 
 very ambition and enthusiasm in your 
 calling which goes with you from this 
 place will tend to draw you into a con- 
 centrated and narrow life. Many of the 
 older men who stand as your profes- 
 sional examples will have gained their 
 positions at the loss of a large character 
 and sympathies. You will find yourself 
 instinctively apologizing for narrowing 
 your interests, neglecting your public 
 duties, shirking the great questions of 
 the day, and forgetting even the higher 
 objects of your profession. Such apolo- 
 gies may find some justification in the 
 so-called self-made man, in the uncul- 
 tured servant of present success ; but 
 145 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 they have no place in the Hfe of a uni- 
 versity man. 
 
 If you are to be a teacher, be more 
 than a man who merely teaches school. 
 If you are to be a business man, be 
 more than a man with a trade ; consider 
 your business in its wider relations, — 
 to other trades, to economics, to society, 
 to character. If you must be a man of 
 leisure, be more than a club man and a 
 loafer ; you have untold possibilities to 
 pass your leisure in absorbing work for 
 your city, your nation, your neighbor, 
 in art, politics, and charity. To repeat 
 the cry of a writer of the seventeenth 
 century, " We want public souls, we want 
 them ! " — and they should be the first 
 fruits of a university. 
 
 Again, a generation ago the final ad- 
 dress to the graduates of school and 
 college often closed with the exhorta- 
 tion that they should " make a name " 
 and "be heard from." We are now 
 reaping the whirlwind of such senti- 
 ments in the popular adulation of " pub- 
 licity." This is the hour when we should 
 ask ourselves seriously as to our ideals. 
 What is our definition of personal suc- 
 146 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 cess ? Is it dependent on public recog- 
 nition ? There is no question that in 
 the popular mind success is closely re- 
 lated to public approval or renown. Men 
 instinctively look to their fellow men to 
 judge their work, and where their own 
 interest is concerned, they esteem the 
 quantity rather than the quality of ap- 
 proval. Certainly the approval of worthy 
 men is not to be despised. 
 
 But does not the ideal of success in 
 the university spirit run deeper than 
 that ? What is all this that we hear of 
 the seeking of truth for truth's sake, of 
 the entering into the higher life for its 
 own sake, in man's glory in living for 
 man, if not that we are truth-seekers 
 and pilgrims of the higher life because 
 these are the true missions of man ? And 
 now take this principle into " the mad- 
 ding crowd." Boldly expressed, it has 
 the sound of a visionary or a prig ; but 
 expressed in the quiet influence of an 
 active, earnest life, what will result .-' 
 Instead of a man who is restlessly run- 
 ning here and there to catch the last 
 popular note, who is working at the bar 
 or in the town hall with one eye on the 
 popular effect, who is, I will not say 
 147 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 poisoning, but simply tincturing his call- 
 ing with those subtle elements of sham 
 and petty immoralities that catch the 
 people's eye and bring in the dollars ; 
 instead of one who is ever anxious lest 
 the fame of his fortune or his talents do 
 not get abroad before the grave closes 
 on him, you have one who in calm con- 
 fidence or buoyant enthusiasm does his 
 duty in life, puts his hand to the busi- 
 ness that life lays on him, reaches out 
 his hand and grasps duties that without 
 his volunteer service life would not have 
 laid upon him ; you have the student 
 who, in his patient search for some 
 secret truth, lets the world hurry by and 
 leave him stranded in his dusty alcove, 
 for his wisdom will be justified by wis- 
 dom in time ; you have the minister who, 
 with all esteem for the truth of the past, 
 does his quiet work and is unmoved by 
 the cries of heresy-hunters about his 
 heels ; you have the man of public spirit 
 who, regarding at its highest worth the 
 voice of the people, regards first the 
 voice of truth and his own conscience. 
 
 In other words, my friends, only a 
 very small fraction of humanity is ever 
 heard from, and of that fraction it were 
 148 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 well if a good part had gone down in 
 silence. The great mass of men, and 
 as a rule, the best of them, simply do 
 their work, find their little scrap of truth, 
 live their faithful life, give a little cheer 
 to their comrades, and then surrender 
 the whole into God's hands and to the 
 service of those who come after. It 
 sounds little, but it is noble, very noble, 
 to become a living stone in that living 
 temple of humanity ; to help to build up 
 man into the glorious ideal which God 
 has placed before him. He serves pos- 
 terity best who serves his own genera- 
 tion best. And the ambition of the 
 true university man is patient, faithful, 
 present, silent service. 
 
 There is another element in the active 
 life of to-day which needs sorely the 
 spirit of a true university man. 
 
 This is an age of material success and 
 interest in physical things. I need not 
 dwell on that, for you know it. It is 
 also an age in which democracy has 
 risen, public opinion has become domi- 
 nant, and the transmission of public 
 opinion has been made easy. These 
 and other elements have emphasized the 
 149 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 power of circumstance, of heredity and 
 birth, and of humanity massed, with the 
 result that from the depths of the masses 
 there has arisen and is still rising a vague 
 and popular fatalism, a sense that man 
 is not so free as he thought himself, a 
 surrender to circumstance, a stolid yield- 
 ing to fate, or an angry outburst against 
 present conditions, and, worst of all, a 
 subtle skepticism as to the worth of 
 character and the power of spiritual 
 forces. There is that unthinking senti- 
 ment that things are made so and they 
 have got to go on as they are. Social 
 evils have entered our communities, and 
 you cannot drive them out ; demoraliza- 
 tion has run riot in city politics, and what 
 are you going to do about it .-' Wealth 
 is going to bring luxury, and luxury will 
 bring, as it always has brought, immo- 
 rality ; the stream will then be down, and 
 who can stop it ? How familiar all this 
 talk is. And how willingly we are 
 tempted to acquiesce in it. But what 
 has this to do with the relations of uni- 
 versity to active life .-' 
 
 The university is a home of spiritual 
 forces ; it deals with life and with the 
 history of life ; its literature, its lectures, 
 150 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 its enthusiasms are in spiritual lines. 
 Of all places in the world next to the 
 church, the university is the last place to 
 weaken faith in the worth of character. 
 The history of civilization is the history 
 of the victorious march of spiritual forces, 
 and the history of Christianity takes 
 its spring from Him who was of all men 
 spiritual and perfect in character. There- 
 fore the man who passes through the 
 college gate to the problems of life goes 
 with a perfect confidence in this, that 
 man has the future in his grasp, that 
 there are no social circumstances or 
 political situations or moral conditions 
 which if rightly met will not yield to 
 the spiritual energy of man. He has no 
 patience with the whine that because an 
 abuse has been, therefore it must be. 
 
 Can there be a better object lesson of 
 the power of the spiritual forces of man 
 than the past century has produced .'' 
 We call it the age of materialism, in- 
 vention, and physical interest. And yet 
 when the class of 1791 assembled to 
 hear their baccalaureate sermon, think 
 of the social condition of Europe and 
 the then known world : the cry of human 
 rights heard only in the savage voice of 
 151 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 the Paris mob ; the people of Europe, 
 from Russia to " Merry England," prac- 
 tically unrecognized ; this country still 
 staggering under the burdens of the 
 Revolution ; the great continents of the 
 East, Japan, China, India, Australia and 
 Africa, in heathenism and to a large 
 degree barbarism; slavery upheld every- 
 where as an institution of Christian 
 civilization ; government for the few and 
 by the few ; almost nothing of that spirit 
 of the common civic and social interests 
 of all classes which has risen so rapidly 
 in the last twenty-five years. In this 
 century the surface of the world even 
 has been changed in its physical fea- 
 tures, and the character and thoughts of 
 the people who inhabit it are ennobled. 
 What has wrought this change ? 
 
 Nature, climate, physical conditions, 
 circumstances, inheritance ? They have 
 had their part. But what has moved 
 them and harnessed them to service ? 
 There is only one answer — man, with 
 his unique spiritual force, his will, his in- 
 tellect, his creative and inventive mind ; 
 men touched with the fire of divine en- 
 thusiasm for humanity ; men working 
 selfishly for their own gain, used by God 
 152 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 to enrich the world ; men working nobly 
 for others' good, the servants of God to 
 uplift their brethren. 
 
 There have been leaders ; their names 
 are household words. But there have 
 been the rank and file of kindred spirits 
 who did their work silently and died as 
 silently as they lived. There are the 
 lives of those whose names are embla- 
 zoned in yonder Memorial Hall ; and 
 there are the lives of those whose bodies 
 lie in nameless graves on Arlington 
 Heights and under the sod at Gettys- 
 burg. 
 
 By faith in God, in righteousness, in 
 liberty, in humanity, these men lived. 
 These all died in faith. 
 
 While these facts stand and these 
 memories last, who of you is going to 
 yield to the cowardly word that things 
 must be as they are, and that move- 
 ments and tendencies are greater than 
 men and cannot be guided and created .'' 
 The list of what has been done by men 
 suggests what man has yet to do, and 
 to do in this present generation. 
 
 You know what it is ? The tremen- 
 dous social questions, the problems of 
 politics and economics, of national in- 
 153 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 tegrity and charity, of the family, of the 
 rights of property, of the individual, of 
 purity in society, of commercial honor. 
 They spring to mind faster than we can 
 name them. These things are not going 
 to drift. They are going to move, and 
 some of them very rapidly ; and some 
 men are going to be behind the move- 
 ment, — the ignorant, the charlatan, the 
 selfish and the immoral, if not the intel- 
 ligent, the honest, the unselfish and the 
 pure. 
 
 The question that I want to ask you 
 and that I believe you are asking your- 
 selves is, what part are you going to 
 take in the work .-' Is the university 
 spirit, which believes above all things in 
 the worth of character, going with you 
 into the activities of life .'' You will 
 find fellow-workers of intelligence and 
 strength who never entered a college 
 gate. But you have something of your 
 own and of your college life and oppor- 
 tunities to bring. Carry it with you, 
 and believe in all humility that when a 
 man is wanted, there your work as a 
 man can be done. 
 
 Some of you may think that in all 
 this I have hardly touched the level of 
 154 
 
THE UNIVERSITY MAN IN ACTIVE LIFE 
 
 a sermon, for religion as such has hardly 
 been mentioned. On the contrary, my 
 words have failed of their purpose if 
 they have not been interpreted as a part 
 of religion. I know of no better way of 
 serving God than that of taking life in 
 its larger, wider relations, doing your 
 work faithfully, regardless of popular ap- 
 plause, and confident in the worth of 
 character. He who so lives must live 
 in the spirit of Christ. He must turn 
 to Him for his ideal, His support, and His 
 inspiration. Christ has been the founda- 
 tion of all that has been good in the 
 movements of the past century, Christ 
 must be at the foundation of every ac- 
 tion for good in your generation. 
 
 This, then, is my last word to you, 
 men of the class of '91 : in your hopes 
 and disappointments, in your successes 
 and defeats, turn to Him for the richest 
 embodiment of manhood, and in His life 
 rest in confidence. 
 
 155 
 
X 
 
 JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY ^ 
 
 " And he could there do no mighty 
 works, save that he laid his hands upon 
 a few sick folk, and healed them. And 
 he marvelled because of their unbelief." ^ 
 
 For the second time since He had en- 
 tered on his public ministry, our Lord 
 was in the town where He had passed 
 the most of his life. You remember 
 that at the first visit the jealousy and 
 wrath of his former playmates and neigh- 
 bors drove Him from Nazareth, and 
 came near casting Him headlong down 
 the cliff whereon the city was built. 
 Since that day, some months had passed. 
 His miracles, teachings, and character 
 had made His name a household word ; 
 crowds were following Him, and He had 
 given every assurance that faith in Him 
 strengthens and revivifies the life as well 
 as the limbs of men. 
 
 ^ St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, Febru- 
 ary 19, 1 888. 2 Mark vi. 5, 6. 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 When, therefore, the Saviour, on one 
 of his missionary journeys, again passed 
 through Nazareth, He had a right to 
 expect that His fellow-townsmen, regret- 
 ting their former conduct, would give 
 Him a sympathetic reception. And a 
 first glance through the village street 
 seemed to assure Him of it. Out from 
 the houses were being brought the sick, 
 the lame, and the blind. Up the hill 
 from the surrounding country were to be 
 seen groups of men and women helping 
 the crippled and paralyzed to a nearer 
 touch of the great healer. As He taught 
 in the synagogue, the crowd pressed in. 
 But as He came forth, with hands of 
 healing uplifted, and with every inten- 
 tion of pouring out his life-giving powers 
 upon those with whom He had played in 
 childhood, or as a boy had watched while 
 they crept through the town. He was 
 mysteriously checked ; a quick change 
 crossed His face ; sorrow took the place 
 of hope. The lines of anguish, which 
 were destined to become deeper as the 
 months went by, were seen by the peo- 
 ple. His hands fell helpless. With the 
 exception of three or four sick people 
 who were strengthened, there was no 
 157 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 sign of miraculous work. Tlie cord of 
 spiritual sympathy between Him and the 
 others seemed suddenly to have snapped, 
 and He was powerless to cure. " He 
 could there do no mighty work, save that 
 he laid his hands upon a few sick folk." 
 
 What was it that caused the fatal 
 break ? The Saviour certainly appeared 
 to be ready and anxious to act. And the 
 townspeople, — it could not be that any 
 fault of theirs should throw away this 
 opportunity. Never had Nazareth or 
 any other city such a chance for gaining 
 health of body and renewal of spiritual 
 life. The only explanation we have is 
 that given by St. Mark, " And He mar- 
 velled because of their unbelief." The 
 trouble, then, was with them and not with 
 Him. He who could still the waves in 
 the tempest and raise the dead depended 
 for the exercise of His power upon the 
 faith, the sympathy, the belief of men. 
 
 Whether, with one commentator, you 
 say that their unbelief made it physically 
 impossible for Him to heal the others ; 
 or, with another commentator, you think 
 that His miraculous power was still there, 
 but that He could not consistently use it 
 while the people remained in unbelief, 
 158 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 the result is the same. The fact remains 
 that He could not and did not do mighty 
 works, because of their unbelief. Mat- 
 thew says He did not, Mark says He 
 could not. The unbelief of a few ordi- 
 nary men and women in Nazareth 
 checked the mighty works of Christ. 
 
 First, as to that word, unbelief. Of 
 course it had not the formal definition 
 which often clings to it now. Their dif- 
 ficulty was not a disbelief in some formal 
 creed about Christ, nor in any definite 
 religious dogmas. It was not so much 
 an intellectual condition as a moral and 
 spiritual want. They had no confidence 
 in Him as anything more than a mere 
 miracle worker ; they hardly had that. 
 They had no sympathy with the aims and 
 principles of His life. They cared not 
 for His work of bringing love and good- 
 ness and justice into Nazareth. Their 
 hearts were wholly out of tune with His. 
 They were Nazarenes, and He once lived, 
 the son of a carpenter, in Nazareth ; and 
 that was the only point of contact be- 
 tween them. When Jesus would carry 
 them to higher truths and a purer life, 
 that point of contact was broken. They 
 had no faith in Him as the perfect man, 
 159 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 the Messiah, or the Revelation of their 
 God. And the want of that, as we have 
 seen, checked the mighty works. 
 
 Here, then, we have an instance of 
 that mysterious but undeniable fact that 
 God, in giving man his power to act 
 freely and to have a will of his own, and 
 thus to choose for the right and help on 
 the work of God, also gave him the 
 power to choose for the wrong and check 
 and block and destroy the work of God. 
 He gave the highest possible blessing, 
 and the deepest possible degradation. 
 
 In this incident, therefore, we have 
 our thought for this morning, the power 
 in men to check and to help the great 
 works of God. 
 
 In thinking and talking over our ef- 
 forts to do what is right, and to seek and 
 find the truth, we very often take it for 
 granted that the struggle is all on our 
 side. I think that we sometimes give 
 ourselves and others the impression that 
 every scrap of truth and light has got to 
 be fought for. Some persons talk as if 
 God were somehow rather parsimonious 
 and niggardly in His bounty, as if, in or- 
 der to snatch fire from heaven, one must 
 i6o 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 run great risks, and in order to open 
 the gates to eternal light, ever so small a 
 crack, one must give a strong and a long 
 pull. Of course there is a phase of truth 
 here ; man must struggle for the truth ; 
 but not because God holds it like a miser. 
 The Christian, and not the pagan idea is 
 that God is Light, and like the great 
 Light, He is shining and pressing into 
 every nook and cranny of the world, into 
 every house where the windows are 
 thrown open to His warmth and radiance, 
 into every eye that is not closed against 
 His rays. " I am the Light of the 
 world." " In him was life, and the life 
 was the light of men." The difficulty is 
 not with Him, but with men, who do not 
 realize the fact of the Light, nor their 
 need of it ; who will not throw open the 
 windows of their hearts nor make an 
 effort to open their closed eyes. " The 
 light shineth in darkness, and the dark- 
 ness comprehendeth it not." Men do 
 not believe in Him, and therefore abide 
 in darkness. " He that doeth evil hateth 
 the light." 
 
 I know this is all familiar, but I also 
 believe that its truth is not enough felt. 
 
 The father of the Prodigal has not 
 i6i 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 shut the door which the returning son 
 must burst before he can get in ; but 
 the father waits with open arms at the 
 open door. And the only thing that 
 prevents the Prodigal's return is the 
 struggle with his own pride and heart- 
 lessness. The one thing, therefore, that 
 prevents the whole world to-day from 
 being suffused and filled with the light 
 and life of Christ, with purity, love, and 
 justice, is that the world does not want 
 to be filled with light and life. Man 
 has that enormous power to refuse light, 
 and he uses it. ** Ye will not come 
 unto me that ye might have life." 
 
 I want, however, to bring the truth 
 into closer relations with our own life 
 and thought here and to-day. 
 
 We all have our social ideal, our ex- 
 pectations of a purified society, a Plato's 
 Republic or a Christian millennium ; a 
 day when the wolf shall lie down with 
 the lamb ; when all men will be just and 
 true and merciful. If God is the Al- 
 mighty, why cannot He bring it about .'' 
 We have just seen, — because men, be- 
 cause we, much as we dream and idealize 
 about it, do not want it brought about. 
 162 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 The key is in our own hands. Nazareth 
 cannot be uplifted because the Naza- 
 renes have no sympathy with Him who 
 would uplift. His arms drop powerless. 
 That there has been a steady move- 
 ment since Christ's day towards a 
 stronger sympathy with the principles of 
 His life, no honest student, believer or 
 unbeliever, can doubt. Men have caught 
 scraps and rays of light. The darkness 
 is not so deep now as in Herod's day, or 
 in the palmy days of Greece and Rome. 
 The cry for justice, purity, and truth 
 meets with a heartier response from the 
 whole people in this century than ever 
 before. And yet that there is an almost 
 universal skepticism of the possibility of 
 perfect justice, purity, and truth, I think 
 no one can deny. Here and there, on 
 mountain peaks of character, are seers 
 and believers. But the mass of men are 
 not expectant of mighty spiritual works. 
 They do not believe that Christ or Chris- 
 tian truth can lift men up to high levels 
 of character. Men are not all pessimists, 
 far from that ; but even the best of them 
 hesitate when they begin to talk of the 
 higher and nobler realms of life as being 
 possible in society to-day. Jesus is in 
 163 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 our Nazareth ; and we agree that He can 
 heal a few sick folk. His power can 
 leaven society to a certain degree ; it 
 can touch the respectable and give com- 
 fort to sick and weary souls ; it can de- 
 velop the child life and build a few hos- 
 pitals and orphans' homes. But that it 
 can go down into the lowest dregs of 
 society and take the drunkards and the 
 harlots and reform and purify them ; that 
 it can make business in every way sensi- 
 tive to the least suspicion of dishonesty ; 
 that it can eliminate scandal from soci- 
 ety and filth from the papers, and make 
 our men and women and children of 
 every class true and pure and Christlike ! 
 Never. And content with that, we set- 
 tle down to congratulate ourselves that 
 at all events a few sick folk have got the 
 benefit of His work. 
 
 The Nazareth of modern society will 
 not be healed, because, much as we talk 
 about reform and all that, modern society 
 does not believe it can be healed. 
 
 Let me illustrate the thought by a 
 conversation which I heard some two 
 months ago. 
 
 A gentleman of great intelligence and 
 high standing in the city in which he 
 164 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 lives, in conversing about the use and 
 abuse of wine, happened incidentally to 
 say that the career of so-called reformed 
 drunkards and the history of efforts to 
 reclaim them showed conclusively that if 
 a man once became a drunkard, there 
 was no hope for him, and the sooner he 
 drank himself to death the better for 
 him and his friends. 
 
 In a few moments the conversation 
 turned upon prominent men in the New 
 York stock-market, and a New York 
 gentleman, naming one of the most suc- 
 cessful in speculation, said, " When I 
 first knew him as a young man he was a 
 drunkard in the gutter, and not worth 
 a cent." Here, then, on the moment, 
 was an instance from life that showed 
 that, with a motive strong enough and 
 favorable circumstances, the drunkard 
 can be and is reformed. And yet you 
 can hear the opinion of the first man 
 expressed every day in society. The 
 truth is that drunkards are reformed, 
 only a fraction of them — a few sick 
 folk — but it is this skepticism in the 
 community which prevents a larger ref- 
 ormation. How can you expect a man 
 who through drink has weakened his 
 165 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 moral fibre and will power, and who has 
 lost his self-respect, to fight against such 
 a popular prejudice, such a depression of 
 the atmosphere of opinion, and at the 
 same time fight his passion for drink ? 
 But let the poor drunkard who to-morrow 
 morning will be released from the county 
 jail be met with the popular conviction 
 that there is hope for him, let that con- 
 viction find its expression in the friendly 
 counsel and aid of those of his own social 
 class, let him be surrounded by favora- 
 ble circumstances, and be inspired with 
 the strongest motives of hope, ambition, 
 self-respect, aye, of a Christian and 
 manly life, and popular belief will cast 
 aside the obstacle which popular unbe- 
 lief places in his way. The hands of 
 Jesus will then do mighty works. 
 
 I only mention this instance because 
 it is an illustration that is easily grasped, 
 and suggests one of the most difficult of 
 works. 
 
 Social life is so intricate, and the sins 
 and weakness and low ideas and preju- 
 dices of men are so interwoven with each 
 other, that one cannot suggest a possible 
 reform or purification in one line without 
 coming upon many others. 
 i66 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 Each man may have his hobby of 
 where the work of healing should begin 
 (and it is well that every man should 
 have such a hobby) ; one may press for 
 political reform, and another for honesty 
 in business, and another for the eradica- 
 tion of social vices, and another for the 
 elevation of the home ; but the one thing 
 that all must have is faith that the 
 power of Christ can effect the work. 
 Here, my friends, is the crucial point. 
 You believe that if men would only turn 
 decidedly to the effort of making the 
 power of Christ felt, an immense work 
 would be done. You recall one man 
 here and there in history who has led 
 a movement against some accepted but 
 well recognized social sin, a Telemachus, 
 a Savonarola, a Wilberforce. You can 
 name men to-day who are moulding 
 popular opinion and leading movements 
 in favor of truth or purity in some line 
 of society, or some missionary who in 
 breaking through the darkness of the 
 Dark Continent has given up his life for 
 the savages, and you give them your ap- 
 plause, your sympathy, and possibly a lit- 
 tle of your spare cash. But, my friends, 
 they want, and their cause wants, some- 
 167 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 thing more than that. Their ideal and 
 ours is that there shall be perfect right- 
 eousness. That the poor will be helped 
 and elevated .-' Yes, but that the poor 
 will be pure and Christlike in character, 
 and that the rich will be the same, and 
 that all the mass of men between them 
 will be sensitive to the slightest taint 
 of impurity, or untruthfulness, or injus- 
 tice ; that each and all will be full of the 
 spirit of sacrifice in little as well as great 
 things. The call, then, of to-day is for 
 a study at home, a search into our own 
 hearts and lives. 
 
 In short, " Are your minds set upon 
 righteousness," O ye congregation .-' Are 
 we living now just as if that ideal life 
 for which we long were here .'' Is every 
 word and deed spoken and done as if in 
 the sight of God .-' Is every sale made 
 and every bargain closed with the sense 
 that there is not the suspicion of deceit 
 or dishonor in it.-* Is the selection of 
 your reading according to the truest line 
 of purity and ennobling thought ? Are 
 your associations such as suggest what 
 is most manly and refined .-' Is there no 
 yielding to the popular pressure that you 
 cannot expect too much of a man in the 
 1 68 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 way of purity and abstinence from doubt- 
 ful or evil habits ? You are honest, but 
 are you generous in money, in deeds ? 
 but, more than that, in your estimate of 
 others' motives and conduct ? You are 
 of a kindly disposition, but is there a 
 spirit of real self-sacrifice, of doing read- 
 ily what you hate to do, but what you 
 ought to do for others' comfort ? 
 
 Are your minds set upon righteous- 
 ness ? 
 
 It is a tremendous demand, but an en- 
 nobling one, that of throwing not only 
 our applause and sympathy, but our- 
 selves, every wish, taste, and ambition, 
 into the clearing the way for the coming 
 of the Sun of Righteousness, and of liv- 
 ing every day in that light. 
 
 No man can do it alone, not even 
 with the support of those about him, 
 unless he has the inspiration from the 
 thought of those words, *' we then as 
 workers with Him," The poor, sick 
 peasant on the street in Nazareth, who 
 believed in spite of the popular unbelief, 
 realized that he was not his own healer, 
 but that Christ, who was the healer then 
 and there, had the power to lift him into 
 higher realms of character and faith. 
 169 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 The peasant did not work alone, and 
 Jesus did not work alone. They were 
 fellow workers, and with common sym- 
 pathy their work was unlimited in its 
 possibilities. Given God and one man 
 of faith, and you have a legion of the 
 redeemed in sight. 
 
 There is another phase of our thought 
 which I have time to do little more than 
 suggest. 
 
 " This is all true," I hear you say ; " I 
 have not had that faith in the possible 
 supremacy of all that is right and true 
 which I ought to have had. I will make 
 a stronger effort in the future to tone up 
 my faith in Christ, to make my life con- 
 form more nearly to my ideal of social 
 rectitude. But this surely is not all that 
 the Christian religion asks .-' Nothing 
 has been said by you of holiness and 
 the saintly life. Fortunately, however, 
 for true and righteous as I hope to be, I 
 have nothing of the saint in my make-up ; 
 real holiness must be left to others ; 
 there is no power that can make a spir- 
 itually-minded man out of me." . 
 
 No power .-" no possibility of saintli- 
 ness .'' It cannot be that Jesus, who calls 
 170 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 all men to Him, and exhorts all to be 
 perfect as His Father in Heaven is per- 
 fect, gives that invitation with the silent 
 reserve that for the majority of men the 
 words have no possible application. 
 
 Here again is the same unbelief of 
 the Nazarenes. You say that Jesus can 
 bring an average man to average moral- 
 ity ; He may lift you to a higher degree 
 of character than some of your neigh- 
 bors, but such a mighty work as that of 
 creating a saintly character out of you is 
 out of the question. Is the trouble with 
 Him ? Or is it not rather in yourself, 
 that you do not really want, as your high- 
 est wish, that saintly form of character ? 
 
 First, adjust your idea of the saint ; cut 
 out from your definition all that is arti- 
 ficially pious, all that is weak sentiment 
 and lean and hungry in look, and realize 
 and insist on the realization that the 
 true saint is simply the man developed 
 in all his features to the highest perfec- 
 tion ; with all his powers, spiritual, moral, 
 intellectual, and even physical, brought 
 into the fullest play — that he is above 
 all else and in everything, a man : and 
 that the saintly woman is the one in 
 whom are developed in their rarest form 
 171 
 
JESUS IN HIS OWN CITY 
 
 all the graces and beauties of the womanly 
 character. Think of these as in truth 
 the ideal saints. And can you picture 
 any nobler end for yourself and your 
 life's ambition than to be a saint .'' 
 
 Having that hope firmly in your grasp, 
 now throw open all the windows of your 
 soul to the influence of Jesus. By 
 prayer, thought and action, let His di- 
 vine power move in and through your 
 life ; and be sure that a mighty work is 
 within His power and your possibility. 
 Not that of lifting you into ordinary 
 spiritual vitality, but of transforming you 
 through and through with His Spirit. 
 Believe it of yourself, believe in its pos- 
 sibility for others ; let this congregation 
 believe it and live as if they believed it ; 
 and the spiritual lift and common sym- 
 pathy in a noble hope would carry us 
 higher and higher in the Christlike life, 
 and move the ambitions of the whole 
 community. Take no ideal but the 
 highest. Be content with no possibility 
 less than the noblest sainthood. And 
 men will cease to question the power of 
 Christianity, and will join us in follow- 
 ing Him who is the inspirer and com- 
 forter of all saints, the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 172 
 
XI 
 
 HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS ^ 
 
 "For our conversation" (or, as the 
 Revised Version more correctly puts it, 
 " for our citizenship ") " is in heaven," ^ 
 
 One of the calls of Ascension Day is 
 to heavenly-mindedness, and to that call 
 we respond this morning. 
 
 As I speak these words, I can feel 
 some of you sink back in your seats with 
 the listless air, " Now the preacher is go- 
 ing to soar away into some sentimental, 
 unpractical sphere of thought, apart from 
 our daily life and interests." 
 
 And I cannot but confess that there is 
 some reason for the listless air. For, as 
 we speak of a heavenly-minded man, it 
 does suggest something a little over-sen- 
 timental and unreal, or at least unsympa- 
 thetic with our common interests. 
 
 ^ St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, Ascen- 
 sion Day, 1892. 
 ^ Philippians iii. 20. 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 If the popular theology is that heaven 
 and God and the ascended Christ are up 
 there, — away up, — and that the world, 
 and men, and human interests are down 
 here ; then, of course, the man who is 
 heavenly-minded has his thoughts and 
 interests up there, and not down here. 
 He is above the common interests of life, 
 and therefore very uninteresting to those 
 every-day people who have the common 
 interests of life at heart. And he floats 
 sublimely through life, eating the food 
 and living on the earnings of the com- 
 mon people, who partly admire him and 
 partly simply endure him. 
 
 No matter what the age or the theo- 
 logy, this form of heavenly-mindedness 
 will be found, — sometimes stern and 
 hard, sometimes placid and benevolent, 
 sometimes simply passive ; but always 
 lifted above the common herd of men. 
 After all, there is something attractive 
 to us who are sin-laden and overwhelmed 
 with earthly interests, in the thought 
 that there are a few choice souls in the 
 world who are entirely oblivious to what 
 absorbs and enslaves us. 
 
 And yet, is this heavenly-mindedness ? 
 Is this what we pray for in the Col- 
 174 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 lect to-day, when we ask that as Christ 
 "ascended into the heavens, so we may 
 also in heart and mind thither ascend ? " 
 Is it a supplication for a few choice 
 spirits, a spiritual aristocracy ? Or is 
 it not rather a universal prayer, that 
 we, common men and women, who have 
 got to earn our living, take care of our 
 homes, look after our business, and take 
 our part in all the activities of life, may 
 in heart and mind thither ascend ? 
 
 Do not be deceived by the glamour of 
 the heavenly uplook of the mystic. He 
 may, too, be heavenly-minded, but if 
 there is any reality to the prayer, and to 
 the ascension truth, it is for all men. If 
 I could say no other word or suggest no 
 other thought than this, I would urge 
 one thing, that to be heavenly-minded 
 lies within the possibility of every man, 
 and that only by becoming such can one 
 be a full man. 
 
 It may be, then, that we shall have to 
 first reconstruct our theology a little, or 
 at least change the emphasis of the dif- 
 ferent terms somewhat. 
 
 God is up there, of course ; but surely 
 God is down here as well, "for in Him 
 we live, and move, and have our being." 
 175 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 Jesus is up there ; but He, too, is cer- 
 tainly here with us. " Lo, I am with you 
 alway." 
 
 Heaven is up there. May it not be 
 also that heaven is down here ? In other 
 words, should the emphasis be so strong 
 upon the point of locality as upon the 
 point of condition .'' not where God is, 
 but what He is ; not where you are now, 
 or hereafter, but what you are. 
 
 And if this is so, may it not be that a 
 heavenly-minded man is one who, living 
 here in this town, is one who in char- 
 acter and life is in sympathy with the 
 essential character and life of heaven ? 
 
 The American citizen hails from a cer- 
 tain part of the world, from America; 
 but the difference between him and a 
 French citizen is not only that of locality 
 but that of character ; and wherever the 
 American may be, he has the character- 
 istics of the American citizen. 
 
 The heavenly citizenship far more 
 is a citizenship of a certain character. 
 What that character is can only be 
 learned by a study of what the essentials 
 of heaven are. 
 
 This, then, is what I should like to call 
 your thoughts to this morning ; to two 
 176 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 or three of the essentials of heaven, and 
 therefore of heavenly-mindedness. 
 
 What is the one feature that stands 
 out in all our minds and in the yearnings 
 of the human heart, as well as in the 
 Christian revelation, as the essential ele- 
 ment of heaven ? Not streets of gold, 
 or harps, or thrones, or even the innumer- 
 able company ; but the presence of God 
 Himself. Without Him, heaven would 
 be no heaven. With Him, heaven is, not 
 first a locality, but wherever one is in His 
 presence, there is the heavenly life. Not 
 heaven in its fulness ; but the first ele- 
 ments of the heavenly life. In entering, 
 then, into His presence here and now, 
 amidst our daily common interests, we 
 have entered into a spiritual kingdom, 
 where, so far as we live in sympathy 
 with it, there is perfect spiritual har- 
 mony, where there is no law of compul- 
 sion ; but the perfect service is the per- 
 fect freedom ; where the will of the one 
 great loving Spirit is evidently so rea- 
 sonable, so just, and so true, that any 
 one who is in sympathy with the heavenly 
 life acts in harmony with it as if it were 
 his own will. 
 
 177 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 Does this seem mystical ? as if we 
 were, in spite of ourselves, falling into 
 the partial definition that we have dis- 
 carded ? 
 
 Then let us remember the other side. 
 God in the Incarnation has made Him- 
 self one with man. All created things 
 have their relation to Him. " The whole 
 creation groaneth and travaileth in pain 
 until now." The thought is not, then, 
 the Spirit of God opposed to or con- 
 trasted with the things of creation ; but 
 the Spirit of God as moving within, as 
 embodied in the bodies of men, as suf- 
 fusing and glorifying the whole of nature 
 and of all the things that are associated 
 with our daily life. 
 
 If, then, a man has within him the 
 Spirit of God, that very fact will send 
 him with the utmost intensity into the 
 interests of men. He will move among 
 them, and live among them, for they are 
 his interests. He is in its true sense 
 a man of affairs, a man of the world, if 
 you will not misconstrue the phrase, and 
 yet he is also a man of God. Now, I 
 think we are in a position to test the 
 heavenly-minded man by a contrast. 
 
 Worldly-mindedness, we are all agreed, 
 178 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 is a very imminent danger to the young 
 lives of to-day. Ay, I am not sure that 
 it is not a greater danger to those of 
 middle age. The young are sometimes 
 saved by their early ideals, their romantic 
 aspirations and their first noble enthusi- 
 asms. But for the dull, respectable, sor- 
 did, worldly business man who thinks 
 business and talks business, and is no- 
 thing but business and money - getting 
 for seven days in the week, or for the 
 worldly woman who thinks and talks of 
 clothes and shopping, one wonders if 
 there is any salvation. They certainly 
 do not seem to care for it even if it hangs 
 within their grasp. 
 
 The worldly-minded man or woman is 
 the one in whom the things of this 
 world, the houses and horses, the dresses 
 and food, the business and sports are the 
 only things to be considered. Poverty 
 presses a man into this spirit as well as 
 wealth. The materialism which this a^e 
 has to fear is not in the studies of the 
 philosophers so much as it is in the 
 avenues and the alleys of our cities, where 
 the final test of value is what it cost or 
 what it will bring in money or in social 
 position. 
 
 179 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 Now, among these great masses of peo- 
 ple of the world are of course all shades 
 of worldliness, but the essential feature 
 is that the supreme interests are in things 
 and people, and especially in themselves. 
 
 But on the other hand, one has mis- 
 judged modern life if he has found only 
 these. In the midst of the world, in- 
 tensely interested in the things of the 
 world, in business, in people, in social 
 life, there are some men and women who 
 impress us as if we had moved into an- 
 other atmosphere. We feel that behind 
 their present interests are deeper inter- 
 ests which guide their present action ; 
 there is a self-restraint to their world- 
 spirit, an evident appeal in certain crises 
 to another and a higher standard ; there 
 is an humble estimate of self which at- 
 tracts us beside the vulgar esteem of the 
 worldly man. And in time we learn 
 that God, not first as a dogma or as a 
 symbol of fashionable religion, but God, 
 the Spirit of God, dwells in the heart 
 and rules in the life. Reverence, humil- 
 ity, awe, devotion, worship, which are as 
 essential to true and full manhood as 
 even honesty in business or truthfulness 
 in word, have their part in such a man's 
 i8o 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 make-up. He is refined in his tone, sen- 
 sitive, and yet always open and manly ; 
 and we are attracted. But wherein lies 
 the contrast between him and the worldly 
 or the vulgar ? Is it not simply in this, 
 that in the depth of his life, he is a hea- 
 venly-minded man ; he has the essential 
 feature of heaven, the presence of God 
 in his life ? 
 
 Is there anything artificial or unreal 
 in this? I appeal to you who instinc- 
 tively shrink from heavenly-mindedness 
 as if it were unpractical or over-strained. 
 As compared with the merely worldly 
 man, is he not the nobler, the more at- 
 tractive man of the two ? Is he not the 
 one to whose judgment you will finally 
 appeal ? 
 
 Some of us, however, may not be 
 wholly satisfied with this. Let us go a 
 step further and touch the second heav- 
 enly characteristic. " The presence of 
 God in the man's life," — what does that 
 mean ? We have met men and women 
 who claimed that God was with them, 
 and who were as vulgar and worldly as 
 any one. We have seen those who have 
 been most reverent, most religious, be- 
 i8i 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 come dishonest and impure under the 
 stress of temptation which the worldly 
 man has withstood. 
 
 Have we, then, an adequate concep- 
 tion of God ? Surely He is more than a 
 spiritual claim, and more than a spiritual 
 feeling. He is a spiritual personality, a 
 character, aye, rather the character above 
 all others. Righteousness, purity, truth, 
 sacrifice, find their perfect embodiment 
 in Him. Therefore, the presence of 
 God means the presence of all that goes 
 to make up the highest in character. 
 
 "Who shall ascend into the hill of 
 the Lord } Even he that hath clean 
 hands and a pure heart, who hath not 
 lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn 
 deceitfully." This is the Ascension Day 
 Psalm. 
 
 It is very strange that with the Scrip- 
 tures in our houses, and even in our 
 hands, any man could have defined the 
 presence of God in the heart as possi- 
 ble without the presence of the right- 
 eousness that is God. 
 
 Wherever, then, you find righteous- 
 ness, purity, truth, sacrifice, any of the 
 elements which really belong in heaven, 
 there you may be sure, even though the 
 182 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 man protests that he is not religious, 
 you have a touch of the heavenly char- 
 acter. 
 
 And wherever you find one who, re- 
 joicing in the presence of God, gives to 
 the community the illustration of these 
 characteristics, you have one who is in- 
 deed of heaven ; that is even now his 
 citizenship. Heavenly - mindedness is, 
 therefore, at the foundations of all that 
 is best and purest in the common rou- 
 tine of life. It is that which prevents 
 worldly interests from becoming merely 
 worldly, but makes them the clothing 
 and the instruments of the heavenly. 
 Let us be explicit here. 
 
 Heavenly-mindedness is not the pecu- 
 liar property of those sweet and lovely 
 characters that seem too good to live 
 long here ; too fragile for the rough and 
 tumble of this life. These may be hea- 
 venly-minded. 
 
 But there are strong, manly, rough, 
 honest, practical souls in the turmoil of 
 life, whose hands are hardened with 
 toil, whose brows are knit with the 
 pressure of work, who amidst all their 
 cares and pleasures are bringing into 
 life the presence of God ; because with 
 183 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 Him in their lives, they are bringing in 
 what the world wants above all things, 
 righteousness. 
 
 And now, my friends, we turn to our- 
 selves. As Christians, our ambition is 
 to be in the true sense heavenly-minded. 
 
 Yet there is no temptation more subtle 
 and more common than that which sub- 
 stitutes feelings for facts, which mistakes 
 the presence of vague, pious emotions 
 for the presence of God. But let God's 
 presence once sweep through the men 
 and women of the Church in all its ful- 
 ness, the presence of perfect righteous- 
 ness, purity, truth, and sacrifice, and what 
 a stirring of the dead bones of lingering 
 piety would it create. Do not understand 
 me as saying that the people have none 
 of God's presence. But do understand 
 me, that in this generation and in the 
 next generation, when pagan culture is 
 becoming noble in some of its character- 
 istics, when self-sacrifice is recognized 
 as the duty of even unbelievers. Chris- 
 tian people, if they are to represent 
 Christ and His Church, must bring to 
 the world lives that are suffused, that 
 are fired with God's presence. 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 I do not mean simply enthusiasm, go, 
 activity in Church and missionary work, 
 but all these backed by the deepest 
 elements of the true heavenly charac- 
 ter. Men, righteous men, honest, paying 
 their debts promptly, being right with 
 all men ; pure men, not simply harm- 
 lessly innocent, but strongly and posi- 
 tively pure in tone, in speech, in thought ; 
 true men, who, under no technical 
 cover, hold back or add to the truth, 
 but who are as transparent as the light ; 
 men and women of self - sacrifice. I 
 know of no worldliness so subtle as that 
 which may undermine the early enthu- 
 siasms of a man as he takes on the com- 
 mercial and worldly spirit. Each step 
 in the decline from the high ideals and 
 noble ambitions of his youth, down to 
 the comfortable easy life of the middle 
 age, may be justified to his own satis- 
 faction ; and really, he may not have the 
 slightest conception that he is self-de- 
 ceived ; yet the decline is there, God's 
 presence departing : heaven more distant 
 as the next life comes nearer. 
 
 But blessed is he who, throwing him- 
 self into all interests that interest men 
 and women, and into those peculiar in- 
 i8s 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 terests that belong to his calling, keeps 
 his heart and life ever open to the voice 
 and the life of God. 
 
 In these days, when thousands on 
 thousands are being wrecked in their 
 faith through the pressure of pagan 
 thought and misconceptions of Chris- 
 tianity, when huge masses of humanity 
 are going to death every day because 
 they are the slaves of their senses, when 
 worldliness is rampant, I cannot under- 
 stand how Christian men can press for- 
 ward into a leading place the questions 
 of ways and means, of institutions, and 
 the little problems of ritual and theologi- 
 cal fine points, instead of bringing the 
 whole weight of their character and their 
 office upon the pressing of the Spirit of 
 God into the world, and with St. Paul 
 " reason of righteousness, temperance, 
 and judgment to come." Oh ! the poor 
 souls that are waiting for you and me to 
 come and tell them of Christ, and lift 
 them from doubt and misery, and com- 
 fort them. Give them not stones, but 
 bread. Of course the questions of ways 
 and means and of institutions are of im- 
 portance, of great importance. Yet, as 
 we look back over the vista of Christian 
 i86 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 centuries, we find that the heavenly com- 
 pany, the saints recognized throughout 
 Christendom as saints, were of all folds, 
 of many opinions and varying shades of 
 thought. There were certain features 
 that marked them as citizens of heaven. 
 They were, as we have tried to express 
 it, heavenly-minded men, women, and 
 children- ; and I know of no higher work 
 — aye, of no other work — than that of 
 leading men into that company. 
 
 I have only time to suggest two prac- 
 tical thoughts which I had hoped to de- 
 velop more fully. 
 
 In the first place, it seems to me that 
 if one is really filled with the Spirit of 
 God, and really has his eye singly on 
 what God would prompt him to do, and, 
 while in the midst of the world's activi- 
 ties, keeps himself in character heavenly- 
 minded, he will become less self-con- 
 scious, less anxious of results, and he will 
 have the courage simply and quietly to 
 act and let the results take care of them- 
 selves. 
 
 Questions are coming up on all sides 
 on which Christian men, laymen, and 
 clergymen, will have to speak and act 
 187 
 
HEAVENLY-MINDEDNESS 
 
 wisely, but on which, also, they will have 
 to speak and act decidedly and with 
 courage. No one knows what effect the 
 action of a man of God may have. If 
 the man's motives be pure, his character 
 of the qualities of heaven, no one can 
 measure the effect of his word and ac- 
 tion. He has had the courage of his 
 convictions. The heavenly-minded man 
 is, then, the man of moral courage. 
 
 And, finally, the heavenly-minded man 
 is a man of hope. There are many losing 
 causes which Christian men will join. 
 There are phases of theology and church 
 life in which we may become bound up 
 in interest. They may fail, and we may 
 be tempted to think that the true cause 
 is lost. But the true cause is so simple, 
 so deep, that of God entering into and 
 gaining the life of men, that it cannot 
 fail. The Christian is by the very fact 
 of his calling a man of hope. His eye 
 is forward. For the ascended Christ, 
 who has led captivity captive, gives him 
 the true line of life, and the Christian 
 man — you and I, men of hope — look 
 for a new heaven and a new earth, 
 wherein dwelleth the one eternal hea- 
 venly quality, — righteousness. 
 i88 
 
XII 
 
 PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS ^ 
 
 "Thus saith the Lord of hosts, In 
 those days it shall come to pass, that ten 
 men shall take hold, out of all languages 
 of the nations, even shall take hold of 
 the skirt of him that is a Jew, saying, 
 We will go with you ; for we have heard 
 that God is with you." ^ 
 
 There is something very vigorous 
 about the whole scene from which this 
 text is taken. 
 
 To the vision of the prophet, Jerusa- 
 lem, once destroyed and desolate, is now 
 restored. The streets, which so short 
 time ago were empty and grass-grown, 
 are full of boys and girls playing ; the 
 vines on the terraces without the wall 
 give their fruit and the ground her in- 
 crease. With the return of strength, 
 people, and wealth, comes also the in- 
 
 1 St. John's Memorial Chapel, Cambridge, Octo- 
 ber 9, 1892. 
 
 2 Zechariah viii. 23. 
 
 189 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 flow of strong and vigorous character. 
 " Speak ye every man truth with his 
 neighbor ; execute the judgment of peace 
 and truth," are the watchwords of the 
 state. 
 
 But — and here is the unique feature 
 of the scene — no sooner has the city 
 realized herself again, her wealth, her 
 character, and her ability, than she real- 
 izes also her opportunity. With privilege 
 comes the sense of responsibility. The 
 nations about her, still poor and deso- 
 late, are in her power, and may be con- 
 quered. But, better than that, they may 
 be saved and enriched. She has, in her 
 abundant wealth, a work to do for them ; 
 and they are looking to her to do it. 
 She begins to realize the glory of help- 
 fulness and of leadership through service 
 of others. Every citizen has become a 
 small focus of light and help to other 
 peoples. " In those days it shall come to 
 pass, that ten men shall take hold, out 
 of all languages of the nations, even 
 shall take hold of the skirt of him that is 
 a Jew, saying, We will go with you ; for 
 we have heard that God is with you." 
 
 This, then, is the thought from which 
 I want to speak in a plain and simple 
 190 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 way this morning. With the increase 
 of wealth and character comes the op- 
 portunity of helpfulness and the glory 
 of leadership by service. 
 
 And as we have no time to spend in 
 talking of other ages and of the pro- 
 phets' days, I am going to come directly 
 to ourselves and our day. 
 
 For those of us who have been brought 
 up in the comforts of life, it is very dif- 
 ficult to realize that even in this coun- 
 try, and far more so in other lands, the 
 great, the very great majority of people 
 are living to-day on what they earned 
 yesterday or last month. We forget 
 that to the great mass of people a capi- 
 tal of one or a few thousand dollars is a 
 life dream unrealized. They work from 
 childhood to old age, and though some 
 of them have brought up a family, they 
 have never been able to open a bank ac- 
 count, or at the best have only gathered 
 a few hundred dollars. I am not now 
 speaking of the wretched poor, the 
 tramps, and the paupers, but of the 
 great body of wage -earners that form 
 our people, elect our magistrates, and 
 build up our wealth. 
 191 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 What is true of their financial is true 
 also of their intellectual condition. They 
 have a rudimentary education, but they 
 have nothing to spare. Throughout 
 the country districts you will find self- 
 respecting, industrious, faithful people 
 who, however much they wish to edu- 
 cate their children, have not enough 
 education themselves to inspire them. 
 And the whole type of living is so eco- 
 nomical, so close, and of necessity so 
 small, that there is no character even to 
 spare. They are like the trees on some 
 mountain side, by no fault of theirs, 
 planted where it is impossible to do 
 more than cling to the soil and hold 
 their own. There are the common sym- 
 pathies and deeds of kindness and mu- 
 tual helpfulness which one finds among 
 the poor. But they have no abundance 
 of life to give out to others. 
 
 On the other hand, there is, through- 
 out the country and in the cities, the 
 more favored class ; a class including 
 not only the rich, but those who have 
 been brought up in reasonable comfort, 
 who have received more than the aver- 
 age education, and who have, by inheri- 
 tance and nurture, a larger amount of 
 192 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 vital character than is necessary simply 
 to hold their own. 
 
 Probably almost every person in this 
 congregation is of that class. All of us 
 have had opportunities better than the 
 average. And as we enter or develop 
 into manhood and womanhood, the ques- 
 tion rises as to whether we are going to 
 live simply to ourselves, or whether, like 
 the revived Jerusalem, we shall, in the 
 realization of our privilege, realize also 
 our opportunity of helpfulness. 
 
 The truth is that the modern com- 
 munity is bound together by ties of 
 common interest. The idea that any 
 one individual has the right to do as he 
 pleases, and spend his money as he 
 pleases, regardless of the welfare of the 
 community, is passed. " No man liveth 
 to himself." The bonds of commerce, of 
 political and social interest, are so close 
 and strong that a movement at any point 
 affects the whole fabric. The solidarity 
 of society is being recognized more fully 
 every year. 
 
 Every one, therefore, who, in health, 
 
 education, wealth, or character, has been 
 
 privileged, has laid upon him by that 
 
 very fact the opportunity and the duty 
 
 193 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 of pouring out from that for the enrich- 
 ment and help of others. 
 
 Of course this is commonplace. And 
 yet when one comes to apply the princi- 
 ple personally, the questions and difficul- 
 ties begin to rise. 
 
 Here is a man, born in comfort, blessed 
 with a Christian home, and the best of 
 school and collegiate education, who on 
 reaching manhood turns thought, money, 
 life, and character on to the things that 
 go to make up a life of ease, of style, and 
 of popular favor. There is nothing bad 
 about the man. In principle he agrees 
 with all that we have said. But he tells 
 us that we have no idea of the pressure 
 that there is upon him. The necessities 
 of his social life and position really claim 
 his whole time. As for his income, large 
 as it is, it is hardly sufficient for his own 
 expenses ; and as for character, it is 
 hard enough to hold his own under the 
 social temptations. No ! there is no- 
 thing left to give out to others. And 
 so, in spite of himself, the man really 
 believes that it is out of his power to 
 do much of anything beyond the keep- 
 ing up of his establishment and social 
 engagements. 
 
 194 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 We all know men who, in spite of their 
 better selves, find themselves gradually 
 drawn into a smaller and smaller circle 
 of interests. The large ambitions of 
 doing for others, the high ideals which 
 haunted their boyhood, gradually fade 
 from their thoughts ; and in time, they 
 who in privilege, ability, and character 
 had the opportunity of influencing a 
 whole community, it may be of uplifting 
 the political or social life about them, 
 have settled down into a comfortable 
 chair at the club. 
 
 The man — and with our increasing 
 leisure class we are multiplying them — 
 who thus lives to himself and a few 
 friends, who spends money and time re- 
 gardless of the great needs of the com- 
 munity, has not in him the first principle 
 of modern civilization. For that stands 
 upon the basis of the common interest, 
 and the welfare of the whole people. If 
 the privilege of wealth and leisure is 
 abused by those who have them, there 
 will soon be no room in the community 
 for them. For with the rising power of 
 democracy and the increasing realization 
 of the solidarity of the community, pub- 
 lic opinion, and then public legislation, 
 19s 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 will cut down the possibilities of such a 
 life. The people are willing to see a man 
 who has earned his wealth, or at least 
 one who uses his wealth well, enjoy a 
 fair proportion of it. But it is a ques- 
 tion how long they will endure the ex- 
 pensive luxury of those who having 
 wealth waste or spend it on themselves. 
 While such a life may be more open 
 to censure in a man, may we not also ask 
 whether the life of mere society is any 
 more graceful in a woman .'' Why should 
 those who have culture, attractiveness, 
 sympathies and social power, be content 
 to limit them to the small circle of one 
 class of society, when they might be 
 vital centres of sympathy in the larger 
 social life, and realize the grateful sense 
 of leading others to better and not more 
 frivolous lives.'' There is something al- 
 most grotesque in the way that capable 
 and in most respects sensible women 
 regret the pressure of society, protest 
 that they wish they were out of it, and 
 insist that such a waste of time and the 
 turning night into day is against all 
 conscience and reason, and then move 
 into the centre of the whirl as uncon- 
 sciously and naturally as possible. 
 196 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 Of course there is no sharp line be- 
 tween the worldly and the unworldly, the 
 selfish and the unselfish, the good and the 
 bad ; there are virtues and faults in each. 
 Frivolity is not the only sin, nor the 
 worst one by any means. But the first 
 point that I want to make — and I repeat 
 it especially for the young men and wo- 
 men who have their future before them 
 — is that a life devoted to one's own plea- 
 sure, to the round of social life, winter 
 and summer, is out of harmony with the 
 trend of modern civilization. It is nar- 
 rowing, weakening, and unworthy of men 
 and women of a privileged class whose 
 large opportunity is to give something 
 of the abundance of their life to others, 
 to the welfare of the larger society, the 
 whole community. 
 
 Let us, however, leave the negative 
 aspect of the case. I want to tell you of 
 the privilege of helpfulness and the glory 
 of leadership by service. 
 
 Wherever there has been nobility of 
 character, there has been the glad ac- 
 knowledgment that with privilege came 
 duty and opportunity. The ancient no- 
 bility, so far as it was really noble, recog- 
 197 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 nized their duty to the serfs, their ser- 
 vants and soldiers ; and between the 
 baron and his people was the bond of 
 mutual service. The chivalrous officer 
 has always gloried in leading to danger. 
 The true scholar has put his learning at 
 the service of the world. Surely, in this 
 country, where formal rank is unrecog- 
 nized, those who are splendid in wealth, 
 rich in culture, and noble in character, 
 have a magnificent opportunity. I know 
 that we are told that the common people 
 are unappreciative of fineness of culture 
 and beauty of character ; that influence 
 goes to those who bid for it, and that 
 small men hold the offices and the power. 
 Even if this were so, as it certainly is 
 not, still noblesse oblige. Culture and 
 character do not look to or care for im- 
 mediate results. 
 
 But beyond the sense of duty comes 
 the ambition to be a full man. " Unto 
 the perfect man " must be the goal of 
 every one who claims manly qualities. 
 The trouble with most of our lives is 
 that they lack proportion : one is sim- 
 ply a money-maker, another a pleasure- 
 seeker, and another, despising money 
 and pleasure, devotes himself to a life of 
 198 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 self-sacrifice. Whereas, while each man 
 must have his individual characteristics, 
 each must also be broad and large and 
 fully developed enough to have many in- 
 terests and to hold them in proper per- 
 spective. In this was the charm of Sir 
 Philip Sidney — not that he was braver 
 than others, or a better courtier or a 
 purer poet than others ; but that he had 
 all the qualities which go to make up the 
 man, in such true proportion. He was, 
 as one biographer calls him, " the essence 
 of congruity." 
 
 Now I care not how cultured, refined, 
 brave, or honest a man may be, if he have 
 not a sympathetic outlook upon the less 
 fortunate and the great numbers of the 
 community who have not had his privi- 
 leges; if he have none of the spirit of 
 real sacrifice, of helpfulness, then he 
 lacks one of the loveliest and richest 
 traits of true manhood. It is this that 
 helps him to be master of himself as well 
 as of others. The sense that some one 
 needs him and looks to him for help, 
 appeals to his self-respect, his strength 
 of purpose, his patience, and his moral 
 courage. 
 
 Thus by uplifting others he himself is 
 199 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 uplifted in character; by serving others 
 he becomes master of himself. 
 
 The attractive feature of wealth and 
 position to the modern man is the sense 
 of power that they give — a power to 
 command and to mould the lives of 
 others. But, my friends, such a satisfac- 
 tion bears no comparison with the gratifi- 
 cation which comes from the knowledge 
 that one life has been helped by you, 
 and that that life is within your power, 
 not to enslave, but to redeem. This is 
 the reward which comes to all helpers of 
 men in greater or less degree, — to the 
 doctor, the teacher, the charity-worker. 
 This is the glory of the ministry. As I 
 see young men pleased with their suc- 
 cess in law and business, as they have a 
 right to be, I cannot but compare that 
 pleasure with the deep gratification of 
 the minister, who, working in humble 
 homes, finds that by his devotion lives 
 and hearts are bound to him by the 
 deepest gratitude. While his friends 
 are wondering why he went into that 
 dull calling, he is wondering why hun- 
 dreds of men who are passing their lives 
 adding figures, trying cases, or sitting in 
 the club are willing to forego the grati- 
 200 
 
PRIVILEGE AND HELPFULNESS 
 
 fication of that most interesting calling 
 which deepens with every year of life. 
 
 I cannot but think that the heart of 
 Jesus must have bounded with intense 
 joy at the gratitude of one poor life 
 which owed all to Him. There must 
 have swept over Him that sweet sense 
 of spiritual power. That life was His to 
 command. He would use His power to 
 redeem that life, to bring it to its best 
 self and to God. 
 
 20I 
 
XIII 
 
 A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE^ 
 
 " And the Lord said unto Moses, 
 Wherefore criest thou unto me ? Speak 
 unto the children of Israel, that they go 
 forward." ^ 
 
 The command is crisp and clear. Its 
 note is, it seems to me, in harmony with 
 the spirit and purpose of this our first 
 service in the college chapel at the open- 
 ing of the college year. 
 
 Our meeting here, with its service 
 and addresses, is not for the discussion 
 of some doctrine, or some particular 
 phase of Christian thought and work, 
 but in this crisis of collegiate and indi- 
 vidual life to look each other in the 
 face, to gather confidence in the recog- 
 nition of fellow - workers, and in the 
 realization of a common Father and 
 Master, Thus, those who are taking up 
 
 ^ Appleton Chapel, Harvard University, Septem- 
 ber 28, 1890. 
 2 Exodus xiv. 15. 
 
 202 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 the second, third, or fourth year of the 
 work that they laid down in June may 
 gather fresh confidence and enthusiasm ; 
 and those who have entered these doors 
 for the first time may reahze that the 
 same God and the same faith are here 
 that are found in their homes, and that 
 in this new phase of hfe larger inspira- 
 tions may come to meet the greater risks 
 and the nobler duties. 
 
 The thought of every student to-night 
 is forward, and the point that I want to 
 emphasize is that it is only in a posi- 
 tive movement forward that safety, truth, 
 life, and character exist. 
 
 Let me first say that the value of the 
 future is to be measured by a realization 
 of the value of the present. 
 
 One or two generations ago the stress 
 of Christian preaching was laid upon the 
 future life, its heavenly promises and its 
 dreadful condemnations. This life was 
 one of mere probation for the next. 
 And thus the present existence with its 
 duties and its heavenly satisfactions was 
 sometimes robbed of its importance and 
 reality. To-day the stress of the living 
 preacher is laid upon the eternal now : 
 203 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 "He that believeth hath everlasting 
 life." Here and now are Heaven and 
 Hell, blessedness and condemnation, re- 
 ward and punishment. 
 
 There is, I think, something of our 
 old way of looking at life in the man- 
 ner in which school and college days 
 are often treated. They are emphasized 
 as terms of preparation and probation 
 for mature manhood. The schoolboy 
 is thus tempted to belittle his opportuni- 
 ties, in expectation of the larger ones in 
 college life, and the young man in col- 
 lege does not take the risks and sins and 
 chances at their full value, in the impres- 
 sion that the real ones will come in later 
 years. The true perspective of life is 
 warped. Of course the truth of proba- 
 tion and preparation have their impor- 
 tance, but the work of the present is to 
 emphasize the worth of the present. 
 
 Whatever value your studies here have 
 in the preparation for your profession or 
 future work, the real and deeper motive 
 is the higher one ; the seeking of truth 
 for the truth's sake ; the development 
 in character for character's sake ; the 
 growth in culture and manhood, because 
 cultivated manhood is the richest gift 
 204 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 that college or man can give to human- 
 ity. 
 
 Life is not measured by the number 
 of years ; the fullest life is not always 
 that which is old and gray-headed. Life 
 is measured by its reality while life is. 
 The middle-aged man in looking at his 
 present risks and opportunities in busi- 
 ness or society finds them no more real 
 than those of his college days, although 
 college was said to have been a time of 
 preparation for the real duties of life. 
 No, my friends, the realities of life are 
 here. Temptation is seldom keener 
 than in college days. Opportunities are 
 seldom, perhaps never larger. Here 
 character has its real tests, and true life 
 its highest satisfaction. 
 
 There may be, there are artificial 
 standards in different social groups. So 
 there are outside the college gates ; but 
 there is, I believe, no standard in mature 
 age so even and sure as the respect 
 which comes to one in college who, with 
 all modesty, is true to his convictions 
 and faithful to his opportunities. 
 
 With this year, ay, with this very 
 week, come the crises and the tests of 
 life. And my first word is, meet them 
 205 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 with all the courage and earnestness with 
 which you would meet the real crises of 
 middle life ; for these are the real crises. 
 The college is beyond all other places 
 the valley of decision. And the move- 
 ment upward or downward begins early. 
 Behold, " now " is literally the day of 
 each college man's salvation. 
 
 The key-note of our text is "for- 
 ward ; " and the test of the true life is 
 in its advancement. 
 
 The question that first rises for an- 
 swer is, in what does advancement con- 
 sist .? 
 
 Some of you, in separating from your 
 old schoolmates who are to enter busi- 
 ness directly, may have had a pang of 
 regret lest they get ahead faster. Four 
 years will find them experienced in busi- 
 ness methods, and far in advance of the 
 young graduate in the art of making 
 money and the school of the market. 
 To many people in this country a college 
 education is synonymous with four years 
 wasted in studies that do not profit, and 
 in gaining knowledge that has no mar- 
 ket value. 
 
 Of course, if success in the market is 
 206 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 the test of advancement, then college 
 life may be a failure in giving the for- 
 ward movement. But if life has other 
 riches and rewards, then it may be that 
 some of them are gained here. 
 
 The noblest march which humanity 
 is making to-day is the quest of the 
 truth. Truth may be found in the 
 activities of professional and business 
 life ; she is found there. But in this 
 place the whole motive and purpose of 
 life is in the search for truth. The 
 challenging cry in the life of the student 
 is the echo of the Lord's word, " Speak 
 unto the children of Israel that they go 
 forward." And as they move, they have 
 the realization that the noblest men of 
 the past are with them. In the touch 
 of student with student, in the sympa- 
 thetic talk and thought, the movement 
 gains in strength. As the young man 
 takes one of the narrowest lines of study, 
 and devotes himself to that, but never 
 allows himself to be enslaved by it ; as 
 he studies that in relation to the larger 
 fields of science and the eternal laws of 
 nature ; as he recognizes in his micro- 
 scopic interest the unity of God's uni- 
 verse and the true relations of man, his 
 207 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 life is broadened while his mind is deep- 
 ened, and he is the larger man for his 
 specialist's work. 
 
 As the student talks with fellow-stu- 
 dent of the ideals of life, of the hopes 
 and possibilities ; as each cheers the 
 other on in the effort after nobler 
 thought and action, the movement is 
 steadily forward. Character is ennobled, 
 truth is gained, and the nation is being 
 enriched, not with opened mines of silver, 
 but with a finer manhood and with 
 higher ideals of life. 
 
 I want to suggest, this evening, two 
 phases of progress which have their spe- 
 cial place in this chapel. 
 
 First, I wish to speak of the move- 
 ment towards a deeper and more vital 
 faith. 
 
 There is a popular impression that 
 college life is necessarily dangerous to a 
 man's faith. Many are the parents who 
 have sent their sons to this place and to 
 other colleges this month, with the heavy 
 load of dread lest their boys return with 
 an education gained and a faith lost. 
 If it is true that with the increase of 
 culture must come the decrease of faith, 
 208 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 then surely culture has a terrible indict- 
 ment to answer to. 
 
 We have no such impression. That 
 the faith often does decline in college 
 is true ; that young men of prayer and 
 religious life go forth, prayerless and 
 irreligious, cannot be gainsaid ; but that 
 these have any necessary connection with 
 college life and thought, it seems hardly 
 worth while to deny. 
 
 College has, of course, all the danger 
 that intensity of interest brings in any 
 phase of life ; as with the business man 
 or lawyer, the keen interests in the pres- 
 ent activities deaden the senses to their 
 higher and spiritual meaning. The stu- 
 dent who comes here full of simple piety 
 soon finds that the unaccustomed pres- 
 sure of the intellectual duties and recrea- 
 tions, of the athletic and social activities, 
 is felt in every hour of the day. The 
 habits of family life are broken up ; the 
 conventionalities of the home, the mo- 
 ments of prayer, the worship on Sunday, 
 are pressed into. Something has to give 
 way in order to make room for the new 
 interests, and the young man awakens 
 some day to find that his religious habits 
 have gone, and that his faith is fast dis- 
 209 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 appearing. Or the case may be worse 
 than this. The temptations of college 
 life sweep in on the untried character. 
 In some young men the first experience 
 in liberty leads to license. The desire 
 to be popular weakens the moral fibre. 
 High principles give way to foolish ac- 
 tions. These undermine the character 
 and destroy the ideals of life. The sem- 
 blance of religion may be kept up for 
 awhile ; but the man is too honest not 
 to see the hypocrisy in that, and too 
 logical not to feel the inconsistency of 
 his present life and a real faith ; so that 
 faith has to go. And in later years 
 the fashionable cynic who was a reli- 
 gious boy calls religion a fraud, and col- 
 lege life a dangerous experience for any 
 man. 
 
 In all the talk of the decline of faith, 
 I believe that a large part is due not to 
 serious and deliberate questionings, not 
 to high intellectual doubts, but to these 
 very commonplace causes, the gradual 
 loss of religious habits, and a careless or 
 immoral life. Let each doubter ques- 
 tion himself in these, before he rises to 
 more ambitious grounds. Let these be 
 corrected, before he hopes to clear the 
 
 210 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 horizon of his doubts by intellectual dis- 
 cussions. 
 
 But the point that I want to press is 
 that the college life should give, and 
 often does give, the noblest results in 
 the advance of personal faith and reli- 
 gious life. 
 
 There is no doubt that in the intellec- 
 tual activities and discoveries the beliefs 
 and opinions of boyhood have to readjust 
 themselves. Who can think of a living 
 faith when such readjustment is avoided .-* 
 No doubt hard questions and serious ones 
 have to be met ; in this is one sign of a 
 true movement. In the husbandry of a 
 vital faith, the branches and trunk may 
 perhaps have to be cut, and the life may 
 seem to be taken out of the very roots ; 
 but with the heart humble, the life pure, 
 and the mind open, the vital element is 
 sure to show itself, and out of the ruin 
 will grow up a more beautiful, strong, 
 and living faith. 
 
 Few men pass through college in these 
 days without some such experience. The 
 danger is not in the meeting, but in the 
 trying to escape the questions, and to 
 brace up the old scaffolding of faith with 
 makeshifts instead of boldly testing the 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 reality or existence of the faith behind 
 the scaffolding. 
 
 Here, then, is the great opportunity for 
 renewing and vitalizing the religious life 
 and the personal faith, but the look must 
 be forward. 
 
 With the development of intellectual 
 life, with the changed emphasis of va- 
 rious truths, with the new revelations in 
 letters, philosophy, and life, come larger 
 suggestions of the relation of Christ's 
 religion to all these. The personal re- 
 ligious faith, which has kept us pure 
 and strong in boyhood, now opens up 
 into new and wider vistas. Some of 
 the ideas and opinions which we have 
 identified with the faith gradually sepa- 
 rate themselves as the shell parts from 
 the bursting acorn : but the living ele- 
 ment of trust in God, confidence in Him 
 who is the Truth and the Life, gathers 
 to itself more and more of the inter- 
 ests of life. Now, as we think the mat- 
 ter out, there are not two worlds, — 
 the world of culture and the world of 
 religion, — but they are bound together 
 in the same universe, in the same life. 
 God is more than the Heavenly Father 
 of childhood ; He is also the maker and 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 giver of all good things, from whom 
 Cometh every good and perfect gift. 
 Christ is more than the Saviour who 
 died that souls might be saved : He is 
 the great elder brother, the type of per- 
 fect humanity ; He is the centre about 
 whom all elements of truth, all discov- 
 eries and revelations cluster. 
 
 From the day that the first student 
 entered this college, two hundred and 
 fifty years ago, think of the movements 
 in the theories of philosophy and sci- 
 ence and of the revolutions in theology. 
 Men's hearts have failed them for fear 
 lest the faith were vanishing with each 
 generation. But, amidst it all, how the 
 person of Christ has risen to greater 
 and greater dignity, until now He stands 
 as the centre of all true religion. 
 
 This, then, is the sheet anchor of your 
 faith. In all the discussions and ques- 
 tions and denials, keep close in sympathy 
 with the essence of Christ's character ; 
 learn of Him, study Him, set your stan- 
 dards by Him, live in Him ; and you 
 may be sure that, whatever your opin- 
 ions or your theories, you will hold the 
 vital element of the faith which you 
 brought from your home. 
 213 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 Religion is not here on sufferance, 
 merely to be held on to until the stress 
 of college thought and life is past. This 
 chapel has no apologies for standing 
 open in the centre of intellectual activ- 
 ities every morning of the term. The 
 chapel claims that the truth she repre- 
 sents is the centre and the vital force 
 of the best life of the college. From 
 her and from the faith for which she 
 stands radiate the light and the life 
 which give the glory and the inspiration 
 to all the truth and the manhood that 
 dwells under the shadow of the univer- 
 sity. On the truth as interpreted by 
 Christ and the Church, the college was 
 founded. On that same truth and in 
 that same faith do she and her students 
 now live. 
 
 From this we are led to the other 
 thought of the positive, I may almost 
 say the aggressive, action which belongs 
 to the student of the university. 
 
 Where in the world would you look 
 for hope, and inspiration, and enthusi- 
 asm, unless it be among a thousand 
 young men with life before them, and 
 truth and experience still their earnest 
 214 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 quest ? And where, I may ask, have we 
 a better right than here to expect heroic 
 action, the scorn of meanness, and the 
 highest ambitions? The overshadowing 
 influence of a university is oppressive to 
 some persons ; they feel that its influ- 
 ence and the associations within its gates 
 are all-powerful. "What effect do you 
 think the college will have on my son ? " 
 is the question of the anxious father. 
 " What effect is your son going to have 
 upon the college .'' " is the response of 
 the wiser teacher. 
 
 For where man touches man so closely, 
 where public opinion is so sensitive, 
 where four years make a generation and 
 eight years make an ancient tradition, 
 where the spirit is democratic and char- 
 acter tells for what it is, there are un- 
 told possibilities for influence in the col- 
 lege life. Few men will ever have such 
 opportunity for good or evil as in these 
 four years. College history is full of 
 the instances of what one or a group of 
 strong, manly, and religious young men 
 have done in creating and reforming 
 public opinion, in elevating the stan- 
 dards of life, in upholding purity, honor, 
 and truth. 
 
 2IS 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 The college waits for no leader ; she 
 needs none. She looks to each man to 
 do his own earnest, enthusiastic part. 
 She has thrown heavy responsibilities 
 upon the students. Even the vitality 
 and the earnestness of the religious life 
 depend not upon the college organiza- 
 tion, but upon the whole body of schol- 
 ars and teachers. If each of us puts 
 forth the best that is in him, and faith- 
 fully and earnestly does his part in the 
 religious and moral, as well as the intel- 
 lectual and athletic life of the university, 
 who knows what four years or one year 
 may bring forth ? 
 
 We who live perpetually within the 
 touch of this university are often in 
 danger of overlooking the ennobling in- 
 fluences about us. The routine and the 
 daily duties push before us the details, 
 the discouragements, and the smaller 
 satisfactions of the work. And so we 
 lose the true perspective, and forget the 
 nobler phases, the historic aspect, and 
 the cloud of witnesses around and be- 
 hind us. 
 
 It was only two or three weeks ago 
 that a master of one of the great schools 
 216 
 
A KEY-NOTE OF COLLEGE LIFE 
 
 of England stood in yonder Hall and said, 
 with mingled admiration and regret, that 
 neither Oxford nor Cambridge had any- 
 thing to compare with the idea of that 
 memorial for inspiration, self-sacrifice, 
 and patriotism. And now that a Sol- 
 diers' Field is added to the Memorial 
 Hall, and that saintly scholars and holy 
 ministers and chivalrous youths look 
 down upon us, who could ask for a 
 nobler company and a higher inspira- 
 tion ? 
 
 Oh, then, as we take up the year in the 
 name of Christ and his saints, let us be 
 of good courage, full of faith, ready to 
 act in His service. Let each man's 
 heart speak to himself and to others of 
 the higher life : " Speak unto the chil- 
 dren of Israel that they go forward." 
 217 
 
XIV 
 
 A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION ^ 
 
 " For David, after he had served his 
 own generation by the will of God, fell 
 on sleep, and was laid unto his fathers." ^ 
 
 Such was the summary of David's life 
 work. It was an obituary modest, true, 
 and noble. St. Paul spoke the words. 
 He was giving to the people of Antioch 
 a sketch of Israel's history. As he men- 
 tioned the name of the great King 
 David, he might naturally have broken 
 forth in high eulogy ; he might have 
 pointed out his courage, statesmanship, 
 and faith ; he might have shown how 
 David's life had influenced the genera- 
 tions after him. 
 
 But Paul, holding his eloquence within 
 the closest bounds, summed up the life 
 in the simple but great panegyric : " Da- 
 vid, after he had served his own genera- 
 
 1 Baccalaureate Sermon, Appleton Chapel, Har- 
 vard University, Cambridge, June 17, 1894. 
 
 2 Acts xiii. 36. 
 
 218 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 tion by the will of God, fell on sleep, and 
 was laid unto his fathers." 
 
 Taking David as he was, with his 
 greatness and his weaknesses, and his 
 generation as it was, with its social and 
 national conditions, the greatest word 
 that could be said of him was that he 
 filled his place and did his duty in his 
 own day ; he served his own generation. 
 
 The thoughts, the ideals, and the 
 dreads of the people to-day are largely in 
 the future. " What are we coming to .'' " 
 we hear on every hand. "What mean 
 this warfare of classes, with its violence 
 and bloodshed, this increase of socialism, 
 this decay of honor in politics, this rising 
 idea of the solidarity of humanity, this 
 revolution of religious thought ? Great 
 changes are in store for the next cen- 
 tury, great movements for the better and 
 for the worse." 
 
 And so, dwelling on these thoughts, 
 we somehow take it for granted that we 
 are approaching the brink of great revo- 
 lutions in social, political, and religious 
 life. The forward look moves our inter- 
 est and sympathies. 
 
 Now, while this may all be true, and 
 219 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 while in its proportion the forward look 
 has its place, the thought that I want to 
 emphasize, my friends, is that we are 
 now living in the present, and that our 
 duty is in the present conditions ; that 
 he serves the future best who best serves 
 the present. 
 
 I have no new thoughts to give you 
 to-day. I do not believe that you care 
 for them now. What you want is a sim- 
 ple, straightforward statement of a few 
 of the duties of an educated young man 
 in these times, so that you may think 
 over them and act upon them. 
 
 These I wish to suggest in the three 
 phases of social, political, and religious 
 life. 
 
 First, in the social life. 
 
 In our discussions as to the present 
 and future social conditions, two points 
 are usually emphasized : one, which I 
 have already suggested, that changes are 
 coming. The times seem out of joint ; 
 social injustice is said to exist ; but where 
 to put the blame, or make the cure, is 
 not so easy to state. The other point 
 emphasized is that men are needed who 
 will throw themselves into the work of 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 studying and changing these social con- 
 ditions ; men who will devote themselves 
 to the uplifting of humanity, experts in 
 charities and model tenements, philan- 
 thropists who will give time, money, and 
 life for the poor. 
 
 This is all well and noble. Not a word 
 that I may say, will, I trust, weaken an 
 ambition to ennoble the social conditions 
 of the future, or will check a man from 
 devoting his life to charities. 
 
 And yet these do not strike me as the 
 first or most immediate calls to the men 
 of the present. For what do we find 
 as the conditions of to-day } This is, 
 for instance, an era of commerce and 
 business ; farming, manufacturing, and 
 trading employ the lives of the mass 
 of men, who are called by God and 
 by the conditions of the times to put 
 their lives into these duties. This is an 
 age which has been forced to recognize 
 the limitations of man's power in what 
 are called the laws of nature, of compe- 
 tion, and of demand and supply. 
 
 Looked at from one point of view, it 
 sometimes seems as if, under these laws 
 and the great movements of famines 
 and harvests, men were helpless. On 
 
 221 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 the other hand, this is an age which has 
 called forth and discovered the power 
 of man over nature. Through the am- 
 bition, the dauntless courage and the 
 dominant will of man, the world's surface 
 has been changed, and nature has yielded 
 her hoarded riches. Behind the laws of 
 nature and competition, then, we have 
 the spirit of man, who can transform the 
 conditions, guide the powers, and turn 
 what might be scourges into blessings. 
 
 The point, then, that I am after is 
 that the great majority of you and of all 
 young men have got to take up life in its 
 present conditions. You have got to 
 choose your calling, be a doctor, or a 
 lawyer, or a broker, or a manufacturer, 
 earn your living, and take your humble 
 part in the great social organism. The 
 great work in life will be, not first to 
 change the conditions of society, but 
 taking the conditions as they are, to 
 broaden and ennoble the life within 
 them. What I urge, then, is a larger 
 conception of your business, a broader 
 view of your profession. 
 
 Perhaps I can put it best in this way. 
 
 There is, you know, the popular dis- 
 tinction between business and charity. 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 A man may be in a position wherein, by 
 perfectly legitimate and business-like 
 methods, he may impoverish his neigh- 
 bor ; that is business : and then he may 
 sit down and sign a large check by 
 which he may relieve that neighbor from 
 utter want ; that is charity. Or a doctor 
 may treat a patient and get the largest 
 fee possible ; that is business : and then 
 he may give his services to some poor pa- 
 tient ; that is charity. Now, while there 
 is an element of truth in these distinc- 
 tions, I claim that you cannot slice up a 
 man in that way, and ticket his different 
 acts with the labels of business and char- 
 ity. He is a man ; and the spirit with 
 which he conducts business or charity in- 
 fuses all his acts. A hard, narrow, busi- 
 ness man may give his checks to the poor 
 every day, and yet be lacking in the 
 deeper elements of a charitable spirit ; 
 and a doctor may be firm in his charges 
 to the poor, and yet in the depth of 
 his sympathy, the devotion of his best 
 skill upon all classes, be full of the spirit 
 of charity. 
 
 Within a week a man has refused to 
 gain thousands of dollars in increased 
 rent by letting a fraction of his building 
 223 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 for a bar-room. It was not business, 
 and it was not charity ; but it was a high 
 conception of wliat lie owed to his own 
 self-respect and to the community. As 
 one of the trust lawyers of Boston, who 
 was also one of the ornaments of a 
 governing Board of this University, put 
 it some years ago : " No gentleman rents 
 his buildings for a saloon." 
 
 The intricacy of social and business 
 life is such that it is very difficult to 
 place responsibility. Some of you may, 
 in a few years, be directors of a mill or 
 of a mine. As directors, you must con- 
 duct the business on business principles ; 
 buy labor in the cheapest market and 
 make profits for your stockholders of 
 whom you are one. Meanwhile, through 
 these very business methods, the work- 
 ing people are being ground to poverty. 
 The community where they live is ridden 
 with rum and low political and social life. 
 It is not the business of the directors 
 and stockholders to keep those people 
 clean and pure ; it is not business to 
 build hospitals or provide them with de- 
 cent tenements. And yet, as the profits 
 come in part from the labor of that 
 community, as there is at least a slight 
 224 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 connection of employer and employed, it 
 is the duty of some one, — and who more 
 than the directors and stockholders, not 
 as such, but as men ? — to take their part 
 in the social uplifting. Do not under- 
 stand me that the work of business and 
 social uplift can be divided among the 
 mills and corporations and mines. I 
 have no such dream as that. But what I 
 do plead for is that you, as business men, 
 manufacturers, miners, and stockholders, 
 will infuse into your business more of 
 the spirit of humanity, of high honor 
 which is more than honesty, and of mu- 
 tual forbearance and helpfulness which 
 is more than what is called charity. It 
 is well to remember that to a self-respect- 
 ing workingman there is nothing more 
 irritating than that he should have favors 
 on the ground of charity ; and also to 
 remember that that same man expects 
 and demands justice, and while demo- 
 cracy reigns he is going to have it. 
 
 It is one of the great dangers of life 
 that duty usually calls us to see only one 
 or a few phases of life ; so that the capi- 
 talist sees his own interest and the laborer 
 his. It is natural and it is dangerous. 
 A wider vision, a larger sympathy, a 
 225 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 nobler conception of his calling, are the 
 privileges of a man of liberal education. 
 So that in the service of his generation 
 he gives to his calling, be it medicine, 
 law, business, or what you will, a larger 
 meaning, a broader usefulness and a 
 greater power. 
 
 I turn now to the duty of the educated 
 man in the political life ; or, I should 
 rather say, his duty as a patriot. 
 
 You have had, during these four years, 
 a nobler object-lesson than is given to 
 any other university. To pass through 
 Memorial Hall day after day, to read the 
 names upon the tablets, to look upon 
 the portraits of the heroes, is a perpetual 
 call to patriotism. You have missed the 
 inspiration which came to us thirty years 
 ago in the drum-beat, the sound of war, 
 the crippled soldiers upon the streets, 
 the frequent cheer, the suspense as the 
 news of battle was passed from mouth 
 to mouth, the sorrow, the soldiers' fune- 
 rals, the welcome home, the victories. 
 The blood moves quicker now as one re- 
 calls the news of Gettysburg, Antietam, 
 Mobile, and Richmond. The Harvard 
 Memorial Biographies, containing the 
 226 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 lives of those whose names are on yonder 
 tablets, always stand on the shelf at my 
 right hand, next to my Bible, that in any 
 hour of discouragement I may dip into 
 them and catch some of their noble 
 spirit. 
 
 Pardon the personal word ; but I want 
 to make you realize how Harvard has 
 shed her blood for the country. 
 
 "They served their own generation 
 by the will of God, and fell on sleep 
 and were laid unto their fathers." And 
 now for ourselves, and this generation, 
 what are the calls to service ? 
 
 I might tell you that the educated and 
 privileged man is needed in the political 
 life. I might urge you to the study of 
 political movements and action in them. 
 I might press you to drop your chosen 
 profession or business and devote your- 
 self to the lifting of the political life 
 from the slough in which it is flounder- 
 ing to-day — and I would do well. But, 
 as I suggested before, my thought to- 
 day is not for the specialists and the 
 devotees, but with the great body of 
 men who are going to earn their living 
 and do their duty in the various call- 
 ings of life. What duties have they as 
 227 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 patriots ? What can they do for their 
 country ? 
 
 In the first place, they are a part of 
 the great body of the people who create 
 the public sentiment, who develop the 
 politicians, and who support the leaders. 
 Therefore the first and supreme duty is 
 that a man have a noble and high con- 
 ception of what a nation is, and what his 
 country should be. We have reached a 
 time in the Christian era when we are 
 outgrowing the savage idea that the truest 
 patriot is he who fights longest, oftenest, 
 and latest for his country, be she right 
 or wrong. Humanity is larger than the 
 nation, and though self-protection and 
 even increase of national power may be 
 right, yet the nations are the servants 
 of humanity, and their great work is the 
 development of a humanity that is just, 
 true, and merciful. 
 
 The true conception of the nation is 
 not that of physical force, armies or 
 wealth, but that of a great people bound 
 together by the strongest ties of justice, 
 truth, and mercy, and pledged to act 
 with high honor toward other nations. 
 A nation, therefore, owes it to itself to 
 be just and true to the weakest people in 
 228 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 the world, even though it be at the cost 
 of pride and self-restraint. For injus- 
 tice will react upon the character of the 
 people and demoralize the nation itself. 
 
 Your first duty, then, is to see, as far 
 as in you lies, that no love of conquest, 
 no pride in a great navy, no jingoism, no 
 desire to act the bully, leads this nation 
 to be unjust, untrue, and unmerciful. 
 National righteousness first, the country 
 afterwards. 
 
 Again, the foundation of our demo- 
 cracy is trust in man, mutual confidence 
 that men will be true to their trust. On 
 this rests the sacredness of the ballot. 
 If the people once really lose confidence 
 in their fellow-men, — that the voter may 
 be bought, that the alderman may be 
 bought, that the senator may be bought, 
 — then will come the time and opportu- 
 nity for Caesarism and for government 
 by force. 
 
 Occasionally we are startled by rumors 
 of corruption in high places, — by strong 
 evidence, too, — and then we blame the 
 leaders and the politicians. I call you 
 back to the thought that the people 
 make the leaders. When, then, any 
 such flagrant breach of trust is known, 
 229 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 first look to yourself and to the body of 
 the people. May it not be that the public 
 evil is only a symptom of a popular sin 
 
 — ay, of your own attitude ? 
 
 The director of a corporation, who is 
 pressing some interest through the legis- 
 lature, and who turns his back and shuts 
 his eyes while some one else carries it 
 through for him (though he suspects or 
 he well knows, by doubtful methods or 
 by bribery), is the embodiment of the 
 worst spirit in our national life. The 
 citizens who by evil compromise or in- 
 fluence push their own private interests 
 through our legislatures in spite of the 
 public good represent the same spirit. 
 Our complicated forms of business make 
 it difficult to place responsibility. One 
 wicked partner can handle the doubtful 
 work. Therefore upon the shareholders 
 
 — in other words, upon the great body of 
 citizens — rests the responsibility that, so 
 far from conniving at doubtful methods 
 or being indifferent to them, they shall 
 be aggressive in their endeavors and de- 
 mands that everything touching public 
 life shall be above the suspicion of fraud 
 or bribery. 
 
 The men of one section may be try- 
 230 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 ing to get something for nothing by 
 paying their debts in silver. The men 
 of another section may have been getting 
 something for nothing by speculating in 
 Western lands, railroads, and mines, and 
 by controlling the legislatures. That 
 they have lost as well as gained does not 
 touch the ethics of the question. The 
 weak spot has been in the selfishness 
 with which self-interest and sectional in- 
 terest are pushed regardless of the rights 
 of the whole people. 
 
 The life of a private citizen as well as 
 that of a public man is a trust. It is 
 due to the community as well as to him- 
 self that in his personal relations, his 
 business, his expenditures and his luxu- 
 ries, the citizen does not offend the con- 
 science of the people, nor rudely disturb 
 the conventionalities of society, but 
 rather, if he be a man of education, that 
 he sustain by his own example the con- 
 science of the people, making them sen- 
 sitive to every suspicion of dishonesty, 
 and leading them to self-restraint, sim- 
 plicity, and nobility of life. 
 
 I now come to the suggestion of a 
 few of the duties of the educated young 
 231 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 man in the religious life of this genera- 
 tion. 
 
 One condition stands out clear in the 
 fundamental principles of our nation, — 
 the freedom of the state from the church, 
 religious liberty. And the first duty of 
 every citizen is to withstand every sug- 
 gestion and every act of legislation 
 which looks towards the patronage of 
 any form of religion by the state. 
 
 Religious liberty means for the peo- 
 ple responsibility. Looking to the state 
 for no aid nor recognition, the members 
 of the church must look to themselves 
 if they are to sustain and upbuild the 
 religious character of the people. We 
 have, my friends, in this university and 
 in New England a noble religious inher- 
 itance. In the stock and character of 
 the people is stored a rich capital of 
 spiritual experience inherited from our 
 fathers. 
 
 Three simple points I want to make. 
 
 In the first place : without the sym- 
 pathy of men of education, without the 
 sweet reasonableness, the breadth of 
 vision, the patient love of truth, and 
 the deep-seated enthusiasm which go 
 with culture, the religion of the people 
 232 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 will become emotional, vulgar, and nar- 
 row. 
 
 On the other hand, without the simple 
 faith, the earnestness, the hope and the 
 devotion which go with the religion of 
 the common people, culture will lose its 
 virility, become over-ripe, cynical, and 
 nerveless. Therefore the man of the 
 truest culture will be the man of the 
 deepest religious sympathies. Instead 
 of cutting down his faith to its barest 
 elements and studying how little he be- 
 lieves, he will count faith a noble thing 
 and see how much he can believe. He 
 will look at religion not as a series of 
 statements, a list of dogmas, or a bunch 
 of emotions, but as communion with the 
 great Spirit who embodies all truth, jus- 
 tice, and love ; every good and every 
 perfect gift from science, from culture, 
 from history, and from experience is 
 from Him. Thus will go hand in hand 
 the development of character, of culture, 
 and of faith. 
 
 In the next place : I warn you against 
 the stolid commercial spirit which is 
 liable to come with middle age. Youth 
 is saved by its ideals. 
 
 Twenty years hence, some of your 
 233 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 ideals will have been lost, some of your 
 hopes broken, and your interests bound 
 up in making a living, carrying on your 
 business, and satisfying your clients. 
 Then the changes of the market, the 
 newspaper seven days in the week, the 
 interest in politics, and the small talk of 
 the day, may gradually enwrap you, and 
 you may become one of those stolid, 
 uninteresting, commercial machines that 
 we meet in the offices and clubs. I trust 
 not. To escape this, the great truths 
 which are bound up in religion must be 
 your companions. The romance which 
 even in these commercial days goes with 
 the life of God's saints must move you. 
 The self-sacrifice, the sweet charity, and 
 the great hopes that still fill the lives of 
 Christ's children must touch and inspire 
 you. No man or community can live 
 on the spiritual inheritance of the past 
 without becoming spiritually bankrupt. 
 The hope of the present cannot be in 
 the religion of the past, but in the faith 
 and in the life of the present. 
 
 In the third place (and I speak very 
 
 practically) : if you think thus, if you 
 
 believe that faith and Christ have their 
 
 place in the present, you have an imme- 
 
 234 
 
A SERVANT OF HIS OWN GENERATION 
 
 diate and a life-long duty, — that of 
 expressing the faith in your words and 
 character, that of giving to the world 
 in your life the truth, the purity, the 
 public spirit, and the self-sacrifice of 
 Christ Himself. 
 
 You may have felt, my friends, that 
 this sermon is hardly up to the dignity 
 of a Baccalaureate ; it has not treated of 
 great thoughts in a great way as becomes 
 the close of a university career. Cer- 
 tainly I have felt it. And yet, even if I 
 could have spoken with the conventional 
 dignity of such occasions, I would not. 
 
 No son of Harvard who comes here 
 to speak to you from the problems, the 
 sins, the needs, the heroisms, and the 
 hopes of the great body of the people 
 can say other than the simple, earnest 
 word that moves him. 
 
 Men of the class of '94, the country 
 needs men — pure, true, strong, and 
 faithful. God help you to be such. You 
 have a few years in which to labor, fight, 
 and conquer here ; and then, when life 
 is over, may your Alma Mater be able 
 to bear witness, " He served his own 
 generation by the will of God." 
 235 
 

 Date Due 
 
 
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