3/^/f ^-^ "D"DTTVT/-iT7im/^TVr "KiT T vT' PRINCETON, N. J. SM/.. BX 9178 .03 1892 Odlin, James Edwin, 1857- 1920. New concepts of old dogmas Nuviber NEW CONCEPTS OF OLD DOGMAS NEW CONCEPTS OF OLD DOGMAS A BOOK OF SERMONS / ■y BY REV. JAS. E. ODLIN FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY CHICAGO: I NEW YORK: 148 AND 150 MADISON STREET | 30 UNION SQUARE, EAST Publishers of Evangelical Literature. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S93, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. All Rights Reserved. To MY WIFE, MY BEST FRIEND, This Book IS Affectionately Dedicated. J. E. O. PREFACE. These sermons have been so kindly received by both the home congregation and strangers present, that the author has been encouraged to offer them to the larger public, with the hope that they may be found suggestive and helpful in the higher things of our common Christian ^^^ * PASTOR'S STUDY, First Presbyterian Church. lVaukega?iy III., Sept. lo, i8g2. CONTENTS. COSMOS AND WORLD-AGE. PAGE. I. The Creation Points to God. — Job j8 :ji ... 1 1 II. Divinity vs. Humanity, or Aurelius vs. Christ, — Matt, y : 12 21 III. The Secular Spirit. — Matt. 6 : 10 34 IV. God the Arbiter of Destiny. — Acts 1:7 43 THE USE OF MIRACLES. V. Christ the Miracle-worker. — Acts 2 : 22y 23. 53 VI. Miracles as Related to Modern Life. — Acts ig : iiy 72 66 GRACE, LOVE, AND OBEDIENCE. VII. The Foreordained Grace of God. — Rom. S ■• 2g 79 VIII. God is Love. — / John 4:8 89 IX. Obedience Demanded. — Luke g .'62 99 THE SON OF MAN. X. Carl Marr's Flagellants. — John 14. : i^ .,, 108 XL The Face of Christ. — 2 Cor. 4:6 119 XII. The Stricken Christ. — Isa. ^j : 2 128 THE SON OF GOD. XIII. The Appealing Christ. — Rev. 3 : 20 138 XIV. The Meat which is Perishing. — John6:2'j. 150 [ix] Contents. CHARACTERISTICS OF EXPERIENCE. XV. The Patient doth Minister to Himself. — John s : 17 164 XVI. LONESOMENESS FOR GOD. — Eph. 2 : 12 I74 XVII. Freedom of the Sons of God. — John 8 : 34. . 185 XVIII. The Power of Habit. — Rom. 12 : i 195 XIX. Honest Self-denial. — i Peter 4 : 13 207 XX. Ignorance in Moral Character. — Heb. 4-15 219 XXI. The Patience of Christ; May We be Par- takers. — Matt. 2^ : 41 231 THE PRAYERFUL TEMPER. XXII. The Basis of Prayer. — JoJm 4 : 22 242 XXIII. The Life Burden a Prayer. — Neh. jj : 14. 253 XXIV. A Valid Redemption. — John j : 14^ ij 263 IMMORTALITY. XXV. Yet shall I Liye. — John 11:2^ 273 XXVI. He is not Here; He is Risen. — Matt. 28 :6. 283 NEW CONCEPTS OF OLD DOGMAS. * * * THE CREATION POINTS TO GOD " Canst thou bind the cluster of the Pleiades ^ or loose the bands of Orion /■ " — Job j8:ji, THE nations about ancient Israel worshiped the heavenly bodies. To them they were the divine powers or etherial bodies of the genii, and worshiped as such. On the other hand, the Scriptures always maintain the creature-hood of all the starry host. This would exclude their deification ; hence they are regarded as light-bearers, — His ministers a flame of fire, — the subservers of mundane purposes. That they illustrate by their greatness and the splendor of their natures, the divine majesty and wisdom, is the teaching of the text. The Psalmist finds proof of God's true love to man in the vast concerns of a universe proclaimed at night by the glowing splendors of their glittering orbs, (II) 12 HetD Concepts of £)I6 Dogmas. looking out upon the seething darkness brooding over the abysmal gulf of time. There was an age when men did not under- stand very much of anything save the little strip of earth their own nation inhabited, and such other country as they had covered in their travels. The highest form of philoso- phy and knowledge was engrossed by the man himself and the organized governments under which he lived. He had sculpture, architecture, wealth, slaves. Gold and silver were his money and his ornament. Bronze was his weapon and utensil ; war and its divertisement the employment and pleasure of his existence. Such a man worshiped as gods the protector of the streams about him> of the vale in which his village-city stood, or the ever-present miracle of the sun by day and the moon by night. The ancient the- istic belief of the Jew taught or was cogni- zant of a world creation and sustentation, through the Lord, the giver of life, — an apprehension strictly in keeping with the scientific spirit of our century. The heavens by day, the moon and stars by night, were before all men. Here was the real mystery of existence laid bare, if rightly understood. Conscious there was no adequate solution ^E?e Creation Points to (5o6. 13 of the mystery of the stars by night, aside from God as first cause, the writer's hand is pointing to the mystery of the chaos which fills all the heavenly spaces, whether glowing for us in the radiance of the sun, or shrouded in the veiled face of mother earth withdrawn from the blaze of celestial glories. Assured that men cannot explain away the facts of universal nature, though they might smirch their own birthright in proving them- selves earth-born, he turns his eyes to the ever-present object lesson writ all over the material things which man handles and knows, concerning the omnipotence of the over-soul and the all-wise nature of the superhuman Intelligence which holds flam- beauant torches over the bottomless gulfs of the stellar places, from which, listening, we may hear *'the roaring loom of time." The tendency of this age, we may call it the world spirit, is to magnify the miracle of life. We live ; the animals live ; the plants and trees live. This wonderful benefac- tion over which man has dominion, fills his senses, absorbs his nature, and blinds his intellect until, as Bunyan so well portrays, he may be all absorbed in what his muck- rake shall fetch him of glittering gold, the 14 Hem Concepts of Vlb Dogmas. substance of the world's wealth, from refuse and ashes. But the stars are above him, and he can see them, the glittering jewels of a dead creation. Far out as his eye can reach there is nothing but death ; illimitable waves of light and sound are coursing through the transparent ether, a great ocean bearing ma- jestically upon its bosom at least five stellar systems moving, like our earth and its planets, around a common center. Man is supreme in his domain of life. Elihu had closed his harangue of distrust with the words : " Touching the Almighty, we cannot find Him out ; He is excellent in power and in judgment, and plenteous justice. He will not afflict. Men do therefore fear Him : He regardeth not any that are wise of heart." To which God makes answer out of the whirlwind, showing that, judging by His handiwork, men must admit His wisdom as seen in all the creation. The argument is simply a great piling of one upon another, an Ossa upon Pelion, that the majestic nature of the Deity may be seen in a great heap of His works. In the midst of this discourse He draws an argument from the heavens. " Canst thou bind the cluster of the Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion .'* Canst thou lead forth the CI?e (£reatton Points to ^ob, lo signs of the Zodiac in their season ? or canst thou guide Arcturus with her train?" Look up now to the heavens and see the six bright stars of the Pleiades, or seven, if your eyes are gifted ; named after the seven daugh- ters of Atlas and Pleione, who, pursued by the hunter Orion and beseeching divine pro- tection, were translated to the stars ; one of whom fable says is invisible for shame be- cause, goddess-born, she loved a mortal man. But there are more than seven ; some eyes can see eleven. There are six to average eyes ; while viewed through ** the optic glass of the Tuscan artist," they are multiplied tenfold. These stars have ever held human interest. In the ancient astrology they brought stormy weather. Job elsewhere speaks, however, of their good omens ; while Milton, taking up the same thought, sings of how, leading forth the sun at the creation of the solar system, "The gray Dawn and the Pleiades before Him danced, Shedding sweet influence." What does the Psalmist mean by ** binding the cluster of the Pleiades or loosing the bands of Orion " ? Was it not an inspired testimony as to the motion of these stars in their orbits, which never can be fettered by man ? And 16 Heu) (Eoncepts of £)lb Dogmas. those bands of Orion ; what are they belted across but the famous nebulae of that con- stellation of which Herschell says, '' I know n(5t how to describe it better than by com- paring it to a curdling liquid, or a surface strewed over with flocks of wool, or to the breaking up of a mackerel sky when the clouds of which it consists begin to assume a cirrous appearance " ? One of those three stars in Orion's belt is white, and another red. Now white stars "represent the early adult and most persistent stage of stellar life ; . . . while ... in the red stars we see the setting in and advance of old age ; midway between which is our solar system in the period of full maturity and commencing age ; the third star is nebulous, and all the stars of Orion are seen against that nebulae, the fiery mist or shining fluid out of which the heavens and earth [have] been slowly fash- ioned." Belted Orion, then, is constant witness of God's might, every night giving fitting dem- onstration of God's formative work in the creation of the worlds, described rudely in Genesis, but going on before our eyes in spectrum analysis. You will notice there- fore a wonderful correspondence between Cl?e Creation Points to (Sob. 17 the latest science and God's book in the first chapter. " When I consider the moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained." Who is it that thus considers ? Why, it is a man looking out into the heavens, and he can see 2000 stars, but the telescope brings millions within range. The argument is therefore many times stronger to-day than it was in the time of the Psalmist. But light is now dissected by the spectroscope after it has traveled nearly 200 years from Arcturus. Indeed, Arcturus may have disappeared a hundred years ago, and we not have found it out yet. But we are catching proofs of what it was, and estab- lishing forever its component parts. And as to the signs of the Zodiac, they were simply marks upon the map of the heavens, render- ing the name and place of each intelligible ; but since it is possible, by the dry gelatine plates of photography, which are exposed for hours, to gather up impressions through light-energy of the faintest objects, it has be- come feasible to photograph the very stars in their courses, and to record light-waves too small and too large to excite vision in the human eye. This enlarged capacity ena- bles a photography of the heavens, which 18 Heir) Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. began with Draper's picture of Orion in 1880, and which, dividing the work among eighteen observatories, arranges to make a great photographic chart of stars in the heavens to the 14th magnitude, to consist of 11,000 views each 4° square. There are stellar systems several times the size of the solar system, hurtling toward us at wonderful velocities. There are quiet nebulae, or very nearly so, as if they were sentinels on the border land at the ends of the immensities. There are dark worlds rolling along in the darkness like unperceived meteors before they reach the confines of the earth's atmosphere ; and the collisions of these dark suns, not provided against by Omnipotence, is perchance the source of the nebulous stars through which is accomplished the more or less complete rejuvenescence of the old, old world. This, with the interplay of electricity in far-off worlds, destructive and luminous, may well make the dust-formed son of man stand awestruck, as he considers the stars which God has ordained. Canst thou, O man ! lead forth this vast precession ? In all that modern science has done for you, has it given you power over the celestial spaces .'' Has it done aught for CI?e Creation Points to ^06. 19 you, save to reveal in most appalling way the feebleness of man's nature in the lap of God ? Is not the sentence of the Psalmist full of soul-stirring solemnity in view of the growth of the heavens as they have been un- folded to the mind of man ? ''When I con- sider the heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained ; what is man, that Thou art mindful of him, or the son of man, that Thou visit- est him ? " ** The brighter stars cluster into well-known groups upon a background formed of an en- lacement of streams and convoluted windings and intertwined spirals of fainter stars, which becomes richer and more intricate in the ir- regularly rifted zone of the Milky Way. We who form a part of the emblazonry, can only see the design distorted and confused ; here crowded, there scattered, at another place superposed. . . . Can we suppose that each luminous point has no relation to the others near it than the accidental neighborship of grains of sand upon the shore, or of particles of the wind-blown dust of the desert } Surely every star, from Sirius and Vega down to each grain of the light-dust of the Milky Way, has its present place in the heavenly pattern 20 Xlew Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. from the slow evolving of its past."^ In other words, to this profound student, astronomical knowledge all points to God, the first cause and maintainer of the stellar universe. 1 From address before British Association by its presi- dent, Dr. W. Huggins, Aug. 19, 1891. AURELIUS VS. CHRIST. *' All things therefore whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do ye also unto them: for this is the law and the prophets.'' —Matt, y : 12. I TAKE the golden rule as my text, because I desire to consider a great Roman charac- ter, who was a teacher of moral power, whose works have been translated into modern languages, and who is venerated by many thinking men in our day. I desire to set over against his best teaching the word of Jesus, and try to show how different it is in reach and power, and how much above it looms the majestic nature of the teachings of the New Testament. '•Our little systems have their day, They have their day and cease to be ; They are but broken lights of Thee, And Thou, O Lord, art more than they." It will naturally occur to you to ask whether there is any trace of the golden rule in the writings of Aurelius, I can say there are passages which show in a degree the same spirit. Let me quote: "Adapt thy- (21) 22 HetD Concepts of V\b Dogmas. self to the . . . men among whom thou hast received thy portion, love them, but do it truly." "Just as it is with the mem- bers in those bodies which are united in one, so it is with rational beings which exist separate, for they have been constituted for one co-operation;" or as Paul says, **All members have not the same office." Again, Aurelius says, '' The best way of avenging thyself is not to become like the wrong-doer." Not so high a standard, all will admit, as, '' If thy enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink ; for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head." He says elsewhere : '' Shall any man hate me ? Let him look to it. But I will be mild and benevolent to every man, and ready to show even him his mistakes." His view is within ; he has large apprecia- tion of the contents of the human heart. His philosophy of life from that standpoint is Epicurean, that is, strive to be happy, and he magnifies the Stoic life to this end. Hence, he can give such a sentence as this : " If thou findest in human life anything better than justice, truth, temperance, fortitude, and, in a word, anything better than thy own mind's self-satisfaction, . . . turn to it with all 2tureltus vs. 5. Ct?rtst. 29 the soul does violence to itself when it is over- powered by pleasure or pain. Jesus taught, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, mind, and strength." Aurelius taught that the soul does violence to itself when it says anything insincerely or untruly. The Lord Jesus said, " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Aurelius taught also that the soul does violence to itself when it does anything carelessly or without aim. Jesus said, "But let your communica- tion be Yea, yea ; Nay, nay : for whatso- ever is more than these cometh of evil." And finally, Aurelius taught man's duty to the state, while Jesus of Nazareth said, "Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's." In other words, to Aurelius vexa- tion is sin, whether to a man or to his con- science. Hence the person should hold himself calm against every sort of pleasure, pain, praise, anger, pride, and ease, and against injustice and untruth. This shows us the length of his tether ; or, if you please, the lack and the resources of a man without the Bible. While there is a kind of working morality here, there is small consciousness of sin, and yet enough so that he can say : " Never value anything as 30 HctD Concepts of £)16 Dogmas. profitable to thyself which shall compel thee to break thy promise, to lose thy self-respect, to hate any man, to suspect, to curse, to act the hypocrite, to desire anything that needs walls and curtains." He also understands the course and power of temptation, speak- ing of which he says : " All these things, even though they may seem to adapt them- selves to the better things in a small degree, obtain the superiority all at once and carry us away." Toward the gods he was reverent, but they were the sun and perchance other 'planets, component parts of the universe. He really believed, like Emerson, Fichte, and Hegel, that God is revealed in the world, it being a revelation of himself, and that thus conceived God is the world, and the world is God. Hence he could say con- stantly, '* Regard -the universe as one living being, having substance and one soul ; and observe how all things have reference to one perception, the perception of this one living being ; and how all things act with one move- ment ; and how all things are the co-operating causes of all things which exist; "and also, "I venerate, and I am firm, and I trust in Him who governs," or *' what else than to venerate the gods and bless them ?" 2(ureltus vs. Christ. 31 Two considerations remain to me in clos- ing. This same noble Marcus Aurelius was one of the persecuting heathen emperors. We are told that under him the persecu- tions took a fresh turn ; he gave full scope to the outbursts of popular fury, and intro- duced espionage and tortures, that Chris- tians might be led to recant. Now this was a. man who advocated toleration among the heathen, but who could not tolerate Christ. The most horrible persecutions occurred un- der his auspices. To mention the most fa- mous instance : Blandina, a delicate female slave, was scourged, roasted on a red-hot chair, thrown to the wild beasts, and then executed. The dead bodies of the martyrs lay in heaps on the streets at Vienne. John Stuart Mill calls it **one of the most tragical events in all history," and Mill ought to know. The emperor seems to have been angered by the enthusiasm with which the Christians met death. The cold moralist put to death the enthusiast for holiness. It is claimed that Aurelius never read a line of the New Testa- ment ; if true, it is so much against his repu- tation, for he was deluged with Christian apologies, and as emperor had no right to condemn unheard any set of opinions. 32 Hem Concepts of £)I6 Pogmas. Here was a man possessed of the scientific spirit and a moral character of great worth, a man whom the modern agnostic quotes. I do not dig him out of his grave to do despite to his memory, but I do rather exult to think how narrow is the sneer against the fanatical spirit of the church, when he whom they could crown as the consummation of their ideal in most ancient times, showed the per- secuting spirit with most terrible ferocity against the same Christianity which the modern Pantheist hates. Secondly, this man was extolled by John Stuart Mill as a writer in his ** Meditations" of an ethical elevation almost equal to that of the Sermon on the Mount. I am willing to grant the helpfulness of that book to a man who does his duty ; it is an ethical hand-book of value to me per- sonally. I admit its help. But it is no more to be compared with the ethical teachings of Christ than a speck of dust in a ray of sun- light athwart a darkened room is to be com- pared to the blazing glory of the noon-day sun. It is a little revelation made to the natural heart through the Holy Ghost. This man thus eulogized by Mill was made a god in Rome when he died, in i8o A. D. Mill nearly succeeded, in his own imagination ; 2(ureltus t?s. (Eoncepts of Olb Dogmas. istry to the aesthetic feelings, there is not of necessity one particle of faith in it such as shall make the worshipers true members of the kingdom of God. Does earthly king- ship covet the title of defender of the faith ? Though that sovereign may be a precious Christian queen, who graces the nobility of her blood by the purity of her Christian life, know that the power that wields the scepter and the sword is not able to make a single soul righteous, or blot out the iniquity of a single transgression. Does the human in- tellect vaunt itself over its achievements ? Know that, unaided of the Holy Ghost, it can never fathom the depths of its own sin. But the first note of its creed is death to the soul filled with the worldly spirit : "Lord, I repent; do thou forgive;" and every subse- quent step of that life is a shaping of heart in its innermost passions into the likeness of Him who set all the temptations of earth at naught, and took upon himself the death of a vile criminal at the hands of brutal sol- diery, amid the plaudits of a Jewish mob, in order that the glory of another might be made manifest, even the glory of the eternal Father. GOD THE ARBITER OF DESTINY. " He said unto theni^ It is not yours to know the times or seasons, which the Father hath kept in His own power.'''' — Acts i : '/. SOME students have seen a rebuke in this answer of Christ. And indeed it may be a rebuke, though just its exact meaning is hard to define. Granted He does mean to reprove them, strangely telling commentary this upon their slowness to believe and per- versity to receive of Him who spake as never man spake, that in this last interview before the ascension, Christ was compelled to give a stinging blow of censure, reminding them that they were under His tutelage, and that it was His duty as teacher to instruct them in what it was fitting they should know, rather than in what they desired to learn. " Surely He scorneth the scorners ; but He giveth grace unto the lowly " (Prov. 3 : 34). You will remember that back in Christ's ministry, on Wednesday before Passion Week, just fifty days previous to our text, — for now He is standing on the brow of the Mount of Olives and is soon to be caught up (43) 44 Icett) Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. into heaven, — there had been similar ques- tioning on the part of the disciples concern- ing His second coming, then on the Mount of Olives as now, only then overlooking the Temple, prophecy concerning the throwing down of whose stones led up to the question, privately asked by a few, '* Tell us when shall these things be." In the first instance His second coming and the end of the world is had in view ; in the second, the restoration of the kingdom to Israel, both in my opinion being the same event under different titles. Pray notice the answer in each case. In the former, *' Of that day or that hour knoweth no one, not even the angels in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father ; " in the latter the words of our text, "It is not yours to know the times or seasons which the Father hath kept in His own power." It seems to the preacher there is a progress of knowledge in- dicated here. In the first instance, Christ declares His ignorance as a bar to revelation, in the second He pleads lack of jurisdiction, which the Father hath and the Father alone. In the first it is, *' I know not ; " in the second it is, '' I can not." But He leaves us with this declaration of a divine providence running through the times and the seasons of this ®ob tl^e 2Xxb\Ur: of Desttny. 45 little planet we call the globe as next to the last words that He should ever utter to the twelve men whom He had chosen to be wit- nesses of His life and sufferings, and preachers of His gospel. The time and place make it an awe-inspir- ing theme. The dogma of our text is profound. Its time and circumstance give suitable setting that the gleam of the jewel may be seen in its worth, the truth of which in its concept may well engross our attention. Epochs and incidents of history are in God's power. Mahomet and his epoch, Rome and her epoch, Napoleon and his epoch, are all of God, and do not go beyond His permissive decrees. In Christ's thought all is under His power. '* Roll up that map," said Pitt, after the battle of Austerlitz, as he lay a-dying, " it will not be wanted this ten years." That was man's estimate of the situation in 1806. Waterloo and St. Helena were God's answer in 18 1 5. To every cry of human despair there is God's answer in destiny, which He hath kept in His own power. Knox preached congregations into fury against sacerdotalism, so that though he said not a word instigating to violence, they left him on one or two occa- sions to demolish monasteries, shatter altars, 46 Xt^vo Concepts of £)Ib Doc^mas. rend pictures and vestments ; yet God guided the molten metal of that reformation period into such mould that Scotland became most law-abiding. Day before yesterday anarchists were fight- ing troops and police all day long in Rome and Lyons. In European countries the agi- tations of the past have been within a gen- eration against church and monarchy ; the unrest of to-day proclaims the dissatisfaction of laborers with all governments. The Old World has more of the dissatisfied, but she has also a larger population per square acre. Out of this chaos shall come a result, one of the long series of time, and its consequent eventualities which God has appointed by His own free will. Be not therefore restive at the seeming progress of this or that danger- ous opinion, either in church or state. If God would destroy the church by progress of opinion, nothing can save her ; if He would destroy the ship of state, nothing can keep her from the rocks. We can do but little in this world to make it better, much less turn the tide of public opinion ; but God rules, and is bringing His own designs to pass on earth as well as in heaven ; statesmen are but pawns upon the chess-board of the world ; He moveth them as He will. All times are (Sob tE?e 2Crbtter of Destiny. 47 in His hand ; they shall not flinch. All his- tory is therefore but God's working with hu- manity, as geology is His working upon the material universe, and as chemistry and botany are kaleidoscopic views of God's handiwork in present events. There was an ancient theory that each cycle of history is but a reproduction of the one just past. The preacher would not waste breath disputing it, but he would call your attention to this : that according to Jesus Christ, God is the one absolutely un- changeable condition of human history, the source of its unity, the arbiter of its destiny. He, therefore, is the best historian who reads best God's teaching in the book of life. He who reads only man's works, touches only circumstantials of the handiwork of the Un- seen. This history of the world, a never-end- ing panorama, is the history with which the religious concerns of mankind are to be identified. The gospel was not to be the sum and substance of all things, in the sense that having reached its development, earth had come to heavenly fruitage, and the globe must needs cease turning on its axis. But instead the gospel of Christ is subordinate to the providence of God the Father. One might foresee from this statement of 48 Hem Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas, our Lord's the failure of the great Roman Church to make the pontiff of even her vast communion the head of national governments. Certainly as Protestants we think that it is in keeping with the modern idea that all the relations between government and church should be those of tolerant protection. We can understand how it was that the Scotch and English Puritans had a work to do in this country with their lofty ideals of duty, along with the Dutch who came to trade in peltries, and the Maryland Catholics who came for toleration. All were merged in the epoch ; each one played his part well under God. Fully as we may be convinced that one had a nobler mission than others, yet we are conscious that the best each could offer was used by Him who ruleth the times and seasons, and hath kept all within His own control from the foundation of the world. We can understand how it is that piety and the world often clasp hands on many great subjects, as when the immoral, vain, head- long, foolish humanist, Ulrich von Hutten, united with the pure, lion-like Luther and the courageous, rational Zwingli, also good and pure, — it was camp-follower, monk, and pastor, — against Rome and her mastery over <5ob tf?e Arbiter of Destiny, 49 human life and conscience ; or as when Theo- dore Parker, Ossowatomie Brown, and William Lloyd Garrison, — Rationalist, Calvinist, and infidel, — unitedly fought slavery intrenched in high places and condoned by the sleeping conscience of a free people. In the East, where there are laws prohibiting the liquor traffic, it is no uncommon thing for all de- nominations, liberal and orthodox, to unite with atheist neighbors, not even-handedly, but unite nevertheless to suppress open sale, all agreed that this thing is of the devil and no good. We serve Christ, and the output of our life is merged in humanity ; we and they are one. We are Christian in heart ; we are human in species. Our obligation is to God ; our life is with men. Duty must be met at the bar of a human conscience in the presence of an omniscient God ; service must be rendered on the theater we call human life. There is no obscuration of the Father's jurisdiction by reason of the incarnation, for Christ took upon himself the form of man. We can un- derstand that readily, but further, Christ ad- mits that His mission does not affect God's headship over human nature and all its af- fairs. There was a cross on Calvary which 4 50 Xl^vo Concepts of Vlb Dogmas. had a bleeding sacrifice for you and me, mak- ing an atonement, alike of wondrous pathos and inestimable dignity, the efficiency of which is our sole hope of redemption. But that sacrifice left undone many things which may be called the wheel of natural life. It released us from the power of death, but it did not abolish the death of the body or the pains of disease. Every weakness of the flesh is full to overflowing. The cup of hu- manity's tears is wrung full, morning, noon, and night ; the freshness of the morning is breathed on brows hot with fever, and parched throats are thirsting interminably for cool water that goes babbling by from springs as old as the hills. Our Christian life may give such admirable Stoicism under pain, that we may bear up better, — plain living and high thinking may save us many aches and pains ; but the body must suffer ; for the times and seasons are within the authority of the Father. Life is lengthened a third or half under the civili- zation brought to pass by the teachings of Jesus ; and our lives are so happy, and the boon of existence is so sweet, that we bless God for every additional hour. It is a thing to be prayed for and, if won, joyfully ac- (5ob tf?e Titb'xkv of DesttriY* 51 cepted. But the amount of pain necessary to close our lives is, so far as we know, a con- stant factor. There are the losses by death. You who are older know best what this means. But toward men outside our families we also have compassions. It is like a line in battle, one falls on the right and one on the left. They were Christians, but the times and seasons are in God's hands. They drop out so frequently, we begin to say, '* Why am I left ? This man was healthy and more needed than I." There is an adage, '* TAe good die you7ig'' However much hearts may bleed, there is the consolation of a divine purpose shrouded in the mystery of being, which purpose must be benevolent, for God is good. According to Christ, the great purposes of revealed religion must wait upon God's provi- dence. That providence ushered us into be- ing, and keeps us here. It shall lead us forth again, let us hope, to a nobler life prom- ised through faith. We do not realize the awfulness of every tick of the watch, which measures God's will of time and sense for us. Perhaps it is well we do not. As God is su- preme, he is a good object of faith. I am weak and helpless under Thy chastisements, 52 Hem Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. faulty and fickle in my best judgments, a creature of day dreams shot here and there with the bright colors of illusive hopes and debasing prosperity. O God ! dear God ! who keepest times and seasons within Thine own power, my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. O Christ ! Saviour of sinners, may Thy intercession and sacrifice avail that my spirit fail not of strength be- fore the appointed time of deliverance comes, when the Father hath determined that I must die. CHRIST THE MIRACLE WORKER. " yesus of Nazareth, a Juan approved of God unto you by jfiighty works and wonders and signs, . . . ye by the hand of lawless men did crucify and slay.''''— Acts 2 : 22^ 2j. THE Apostle argues that Christ was ap- proved of God because He wrought won- ders. Strange, is it not, that which was an argument in the first century should be- come a hindrance and stumbling-block in the nineteenth, and that the emphasis of religion should have changed poles from stress upon the supernatural to insistence upon the eth- ical ? They said Christ wrought wonders. We say Christ wrought righteousness. But yet the ethics of the first church super- abounded ; the reason why Christianity con- quered the world was that Christianity was able to prove to the world that it had better morals than that world. Miracles, then, were not ever the sum of Christian faith ; they were simply decoys to arouse the attention ; not meant as the real proofs, only first proofs to awaken the understanding, that the abso- lute demonstration to mind and heart might (53) 54 Heu? Concepts of £>lb Dogmas, follow. May they not be like irons driven into the crevices of the precipice, by which one may mount, of no further service, the cliff once passed, but never to be displaced, as there always must be some climbers-up that way. So it happens we in this nine- teenth century are still clinging to the miraculous in religion. Most religious philosophers are wont to call attention to the fact that Christianity shares this peculiarity with all other great religions. We must note, however, that by reason of its written memorials of her past, Christianity hath from the first had an accurate knowledge of her history denied to other beliefs. It does not affect the truth of Christian miracles which were re- ceived by devout minds and handed down soon in written documents that other faiths have had miracle myths. The growth of myth in the New Testament must have taken place, the scholars tells us, before 65 A. D., the date of the first Gospel (Mark), and were quoted by church Fathers within the first century after Christ's death. We have no right to throw away the miracles of our Book because of the growth of mock m iraclesin theirs. We have, however, a right to throw Cl^nst tf?e 2TttracIe Xt)or!er. 55 them away when scholarship is able to prove that any one of them did not occur. I have always held that the miraculous side of the Bible was in large part due to contact with superstitiously wrought faith and to the credulity of the populace among which it was first preached. The adherents of other faiths would deny its credibility were these lacking, and would be enabled to shake the fidelity of many of its members. I adduce this as something always to be taken into account, rather than as something novel. Christ wrought a revelation in an ancient faith and national life. That people were re- ligious and patriotic in an eminent degree ; they were learned too, and acute ; they had a wonderful literature in their sacred books, a wonderful conception of the Divine Being, a wonderful solidarity in their social life, which had come to fixity in social manners and customs. Here comes a man without pres- tige, from the family of a village artisan, of royal blood indeed by remote descent of a throne usurped, but no more so than hun- dreds, yea, thousands, of others who had come into the lengthened antennse of the royal genealogical tree. He loosens the power of caste upon multitudes, leading 56 Hem Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. them, soon after his death, to break with nation, religion, and party, and become known only as his. Alive, he split the peo- ple in twain again and again ; dead, he per- manently divides the national life. They had been bound to creed and nation ; they were henceforth bound to him. Moses had been their pride ; Christ was become their glory. They had heretofore lived for them- selves ; they now lived unto Him only. Moreover, the contagion spread. Rome, who had conquered Judea and held It with firmness in her iron grasp, notwith- standing its remoteness on the frontiers of the empire, herself in turn was conquered by a Jew, and in spite of the persecution of emperors, the corruptions of the time, the contempt of wealth, the resistance of heathen learning and philosophy, and the satire and sneers of the populace, within three cent- uries, representing the whole of the known civilized world, was transformed and trans- muted to new views, new righteousness, new forms and social laws ; that is, from polythe- istic heathenism, with its lords many, to the refined speculations of Christianity founded upon its doctrines of a triune Godhead ; from the idea of a state to be plundered, to that of Cl^rtst tlfz ITttracIe XDorfcr, 57 organic society, as an integral part of the kingdom of God. I said it changed its cus- toms ; so it did. Its feasts became Christian ; the Christian festivals replacing those as- signed to each part of the year, all in a similar way being transformed and diverted, divested of old ideas, re-invested with new. Sunday was introduced, and its observance enforced by law. Time was dated from Christ's death, whereas before it had been computed from the foundation of the Roman city. The tides of vice were rolled back ; the pontiff had the power of an emperor ; the priest that of a prince. Qualify it as you may, a stupendous miracle has been delineated by the church in history, and cannot be effaced. We will not follow it down through the ages. Its life is a perpetual reality, adjusted to each age, but born of the heart and mind of God. Now was there no reason behind this stu- pendous fact ? As well say there is no beach below the tide, no sun behind the light of day. Significance of all this is not chiefly, but yet it is significantly, in the beginning. Could the mighty impetus which divided Judaism and converted Rome have been founded on a fiction ? As well say the story of how Bonaparte conquered Europe and 58 Xttvo Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. placed his creatures on many a throne, was a mistake, that he had no power to lead legions into battle, no wizard-like strategy, no magnetism upon men. As well say there has been no tariff legislation in America, and no theory of national development on this continent, as to say that the miracles of the first ages of the history of the church are not traceable to actual and powerful miracles, ac- companying the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ. Without miracles it is a mirage to be dissipated by scrutiny of the time in which they appear. But the age in which they appeared, believed. The Jew- ish rulers did not believe ; the Christ was crucified ; His disciples scattered, — why did they believe, except for signs and wonders such as convinced their reason, in spite of all unbelief and caV'il, that the Jewish rulers and mob were wrong, and this Jesus whom they crucified was both Lord and Christ ? If miracles were not in the Book, we could not understand how faith came into being, and the church began her life. The rise of the church is due to a conviction of men, aroused by the miracles of the Christ. Before His goodness they stood rebuked ; before His miracles they bowed. His righteousness ap- Cl?rtst t^e VTiivack tDorfer. 59 palled them ; His miracles convinced them ; as in life, so after death. Though this pulpit cannot see how the in- tegrity of Christian things can exist without miracles, it does not follow that miracles are to be viewed in precisely the same light as of old, when they were wrought. To them every silent act out of the ordinary course was instinct with God. To-day the Chris- tian thinker sees God here, but studies His work to see how He works. He has been trained to this in his investigation of or- dinary nature. As to-day nothing happens above law or beside law, and contradictions are formal and not real, the sudden comet being as much under law as the finest grain of seashore sand on the hard beach of the ocean, so owing to our scientific education we look upon the strange as a new aspect of the formal, and another expression of the output of God in law. It is not wrong, there- fore, to frame theories as to scientific relation of Christ to the wonders wrought, that we may say how He did it. It is not necessary for the validity of the miracle that we stand awestruck, as did the early disciples, dumbly unconscious of anything save awed amaze- ment. That it fitted its time is thus made 60 Hem Concepts of PIb Dogmas, most obvious. To you and me it means hardly more than many a wonder done in the natural world, such, for instance, as the persistence of every flower after its kind, so that it is three or five parted, according to its plan, is green or red, and has similarly veined and shaped sepal, petal, or involucre, and sends out leaf stems in precisely the same way. The real wonder is the conjunc- tion of all the events of His time with the vicissitudes of the God-man's personality. The great Napoleon was wont, at the crit- ical moment of battle, watch in hand, to await the booming of Soult's, Ney's, or Grouchy's cannon, knowing that if they met the ap- pointment, his strategy had met fruition. As this act of Bonaparte showed a master-mind, so God's timing of all things, making the wonders of the life of Christ focus in the per- son of Christ, shows mastery of destiny. Any one of these acts might have happened alone, and been dismissed as either prodigy or law work ; but concentrated into the life- time of the Eternal Son, following attentive upon His acts and obeying the word of His life, we have a most startling correlation of motive in God with revelation to men upon earth. This I claim to be the heart and life Cl?rt5t tl^e irtiracle IDorfer. 61 of the wonders of Christ's ministry, and is no destruction of the miraculous. The scientific spirit is therefore revealing the full nature of miracle, and by making- it understood, is per- forming the same service to the miraculous in the Gospels which it is doing in unravel- ing the knotted threads of natural law, and showing that there is no labyrinth in nature but what has its clue, which, taken, leads out at the very gates of the palace of God. For instance, the mind-reader of to-day, in catching involuntary movements of the eye, hand, and other parts of the body, is making plain along what line Christ's superhuman endowment lay when He read the thoughts o^ men. If there is a natural hypnotic control of one mind by another (?) by which nervous disease may be relieved by gifted men, we know that a slight increase of similar powers would explain the processes of many New Testament miracles. When men of strong bodies and capable of great physical endur- ance in our own time, begroomed and be watered, fast forty days and more, the forty- days-and-nights fast of our Lord bespeaks more of the intensity of His struggle against sin, who is the holy Saviour of His people, than of angelic ministries ; when the con- 62 Hem Concepts of £>lb Dogmas. test ended, the eternal Son had established forever the chastity of His spirit. Since sur- geons in rare cases find patients in the hos- pitals sweating blood drops in the extremity of the anguish of a human spirit under pain, we can better appreciate the depths of the human nature of our Lord by means of the acuteness of His shrinking from the foreseen suffering, and the fullness of His heroic nature that flinched not through it all. These are illustrations of what I mean by the illuminating character of modern scien- tific research upon miraculous things in the New Testament. It does not destroy the miraculous, it rather makes it alive. For the old idea of miracle is dead to you and me, except as we view it through modern eyes, and explain the wonderful phenomena presented. I also notice that miracles are still wrought, and it does not occur to the preacher why the old miracle should be dis- credited and the new believed. The ship whose prow is stove-in by the iceberg on the great banks of Newfoundland, is providentially saved ; a few feet farther, and the air-tight compartment had not availed. A gentleman steps off a train to view a coal- mine, and is withdrawn from the railroad lb Dogmas. manner unknown, and which at their an- nual rise were gratefully accepted, as the nourisher of life in the whole Nile basin. At length the vail has been lifted upon four thousand miles of pagan country. And though it is new and strange, yet from the granite palaces of Cairo, where, enshrined in luxury and ease, the natural man panders to his baser nature, with all the increased en- dowment and environment derived from commerce with Christendom, to the most in- significant savage of the marshes in the equatorial provinces, viewing men, do we not thank God we are not as they are ? And would not the poorest and most wretched Christian hesitate to exchange his poverty for the riches of an oriental civilization, which with such blandishments of the creat- ure would make man a pagan as the price of such a heritage ? And what is the difference, so world-wide ? Define it, that we may make it ours and understand our privilege. Ah ! yes, I would if I could. Deeper than man's choices are these ine- radicable diversities of human nature im- planted in his constitution by the divine Wisdom, and finding their ultimate expression in the heart and character of Christ. But 6ob is Core/ 91 one thing in considerable fullness is testified to by the Christian observance of Lent ; it is the testimony of love to love, and is a recog- nition that love is eternal. Jesus suffered because He loved ; God sent Him because He loved. We love Them because They first loved us. Jesus bearing the burden of the approaching sacrifice with courage, weighed down by foreboding, yet immutable in His purpose, is the Jesus whose self-sacrificing love we this day recognize. In the heart of Africa, under the moon- light, the lonely village built around huge, monumental bowlders left by antediluvian floods, is asleep, for men, whether savage or civilized, must take their rest. They hear the sharp blows of a hatchet upon the stockade of wattled poles that surrounds it. The men seize their poisoned arrows and such other weapons as they have, and run out to the defense of their home huts, to be met as they go beyond their thresholds by leaden rain from Arab rifles. They fall prostrate ; mothers, shrinking, hide their children, and peering out into the dark- ness, illumined by the torch which has now been laid to the straw thatches, look for chance of escape, as wild beasts surprised by ^2 Hctt) Concepts of £>\b Dogmas, prairie-fires, only that they have less courage than the beasts, according as they know better the cruel temper of the manslayer behind the rifle. Poor hunted creatures they are, from the first stroke of the ax to the last act of the bloody drama of the star- lighted plain. This is man's humanity to man. The knowledge of their possession of a few hundred pounds of elephant tusks easily exchangeable for gold, or the desire for women and girls as slaves, or the hatred engendered in petty border strifes, are all the motive needed for such foul scenes of blood. Let them, who would deify humanity, acknowledge their God. Let us take another picture. A Child is born into a poor carpenter's family ; under the meagerest conditions of earthly wealth, without favor and without power, living un- der the tyranny of the mightiest government of antiquity at its worst ; and while never favoring injustice in the least, yet never showing the slightest temper of hatred for the oppressor. Meeting only hypocrites with scorn, and going on calmly with a proclama- tion of love and mercy, and with a life of self-sacrifice, under the white light of which all His doctrines disappear as candles are ®ob is Cope. 93 outshone under the arc streaming with elec- tric splendor, so much more is doing than professing, so much more is life than creed, and in that frame of mind set as a ftint in love and compassion for us, He dies. This man Christianity reverently says was the only begotten Son of God, and strives to identify itself with Him, and fashion its temper like His, making hard endeavor to shroud its poverty of good in His benignity and worth, feeling that only as through Him and of Him, as the great pledge of the eter- nal nature of God's love, can there be any foundation for hope of man's redemption from sin, and restoration to the arms of an offended God. Leaving aside the deeper life under Christian faith, there is yet to every Christian man a unique significance in the whole life of Christ. Did you ever think of the difference be- tween God as an abstract creation of the human intellect, quiescent and absolute, and of God actively interested in the affairs of this life ? Of this latter attitude Jesus Christ is the great proof. Granting that Jesus was the only begotten Son of God, then the in- finite Father could not view with indifference the excursion of the incarnated sonship into 94 HetD Concepts of PIb Dogmas. the domains of men. And granted that the Father sent forth the Son to redeem, then His love going with Him would attach itself to the creatures and the created universe whither He went forth on His errand of re- demption. There is a story going the rounds that Stanley had offered himself to the woman of his choice, and not having received an answer, plunged off into the Dark Continent, on the rescue of Emin Pasha. If this be true, and the heart of the woman turned toward him, what must have been her suspense when his death seemed assured; after tidings had turned in his favor, do you not believe that the woman's heart had interest in every one of that same mission, particularly in Emin and his men, for whom that rescue was un- dertaken ? Even so must the interest of God have covered every creature for whom Christ went on a mission of redemption, desperate in its character and terrible in its ordeals of tear-compelling sufferings. Granted the revelation of the love of God for Christ, a love by its nature unending, and extending to the meanest and poorest whom Christ loved because God loves his only Son ; and granting one thing more, which Christianity (5ob is £ot?c. 95 teaches, namely, that man was made in the image and likeness of God in his first estate, and that first impression has never been wholly effaced, do not the bronze hinges of one more temple door swing open to the hu- man imagination, namely, the door of the temple of love ? Do we not see that if our earthly love is like the love of God for His dear Son, the love of the weakest human heart is eternal, like the love of God ? This is the characteristic of the Christian revelation which I bring before you, that love is eternal because God is love. Heathen men have known this love for others of their kind. Damon placed himself in the hands of Dionysius to be put to death if Pythias, going to arrange his affairs, should not return, but before the execution, Pythias came back to save his friend from death. Husbands loved their wives, fathers loved their children, but they did not know that love was eternal. Hoping, as some did, that there might be some sort of immortality for the soul after death, they did not know the immortality of love. Mothers can now love their own with assurance, knowing that love is eternal. Husband and wife can now love each other till death them do part, and hold 96 Hetp Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. with clinging hands the hand of death in love, for love is eternal. Friend can love friend through long years of happy life, so far as each other is concerned, and even in the solitudes rendered solitary, because they are their accustomed haunts made desolate by death, may have a kind of quiet peace, for we know that love is eternal. But love cannot be scattered if it is to be abiding. The eternal sort of love is not that which finds new objects of affection supplant- ing the old. Were this not true, we might say the favor of the courtesan and the adul- terer was love. Love that is eternal is meas- ured, and loves to sit solitary with its beloved. Carlyle, when poor, lived at Craigenputtoch on a little farm that had fallen as a heritage to his wife. He was immersed in literary pursuits, laying the foundation of his ultimate fame ; and while he delved in the literary workshop, his wife delved in the kitchen. A weak frame was taxed with the heavy work of the farm, and trembling fingers were worn to the quick, and the soft hand, nurtured in ease, grew rough and calloused. But though the seeds of invalidism were most thoroughly sown, one thing was gained, namely, the whole-hearted affection of her (Sob is £ope. 97 husband. I am willing to grant that such sacrifices ought not to be required, but yet it remains that just such sacrifices are the infallible proofs of eternal love. Livingstone died to have his body carried on the backs of porters under the guidance of the faithful Susi and Chuma eight months, because he had loved them, and love is eternal. A great philanthropist, suspecting the woman whom he was about to marry loved another, asked her if his suspicions were well founded, and receiving frank answer that she really had loved another for years, to whom she had not been married because they both were poor, released her of her pledge, gave money to the impecunious man to establish him in business, saw them married, and lived alone all his life ; true love not hesitating to make its object happy at the price of its money, and forgetful of personal discomforture, be- cause love is eternal. All I can say is, Love in man is like love in God, it is eternal. Love on, for love is God-like, and remember that no labor of love is lost, for it is eternal. Each act partakes of the nature of the motive behind it. The kiss of love is more than a kiss, it is a token. The prayer of love is more than a prayer, it 7 98 XCcw Concepts of £>lb Dogmas. is a benediction. For is there not in the mother's heart that which makes her ready to face the flames if thereby the flame shall be robbed of its prey ? Will it not throttle and kill if bloodshed will spare the inno- cence and sweetness of girlhood ? To avenge its wrongs, is it not in spirit like an avenging lioness, smiting with heavy hand of the law ? or when the law fails, does it not direct the avenging bullet .-* Will not the mother rob her half-covered breasts of their covering that her babe may be warm ? Are not, then, that mother's kisses pledges of affection too deep for the storms of time to efface ? Are not her prayers turned to blessings by her own hand the next moment ? And all because love is eter- nal, and love is of God, and like Him eternal. No caress of love can be lost, nor is any loved one past our recognition ; for love is eternal. When you go home to-day, kiss the babe more tenderly, for love is eternal. Be kinder to your best friends, for love is eternal, and God is love. OBEDIENCE DEMANDED. •* But "Jesus said unto him. No 7?ian, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of G&d.'^ — Luke g : 62. IT is hard for us to gather a realistic idea of the Galilean husbandman ; he was a peasant born on the land. His fathers had become prosperous when they ceased to be nomads, and became tillers of the soil ; Isaac and Jacob cultivated more than Abraham. The problem of civilization is the problem of the land ; the ancient Aryan derived his title, we are told, from a term meaning "to plow." They were plowers among herdsmen in the far-off East, where they began the develop- ment of modern Indo-European civilizations. But the irksomeness of toil never ceases ; while the wild aborigines cannot bear it, the civilized man shirks it, and bemoans his task. " I am a toiler from the cradle to the grave," is the true plaint of the generations. When Christian eyes behold the country about Capernaum, from which city our Lord was about to set out for the last time, they cannot tell the exact site, or the many (99) 1<^>0 Heir) Concepts of £)lb T)og,mas, changes of the physical features. That rude plow of the modern tiller of the soil is able to give a notion of that which may have come under our Lord's eye as He saw the field laborer afar off driving his bullocks crookedly because looking earnestly at the sports of his comrades, from whom he was unwillingly withdrawn to his task, and thus furnished the theme of this little parable, only once mentioned in the Gospels. We can study modern Palestine and the parts adjacent for hints of the realism of the time. There was over that tiller God's blessed sunshine ; around him the plain ; be- yond, against the horizon, the blue hills of dear Galilee ; upon him rested the eyes of the Son of man, and curious, questioning eyes of many disciples ; for He soon sent forth the seventy to preach and to heal. Clothe him as you will, delineate to your imagina- tion his form and face, such is the aim of the modern Christian realist, but the man, ah ! him. His soul state is preserved to us like the insect in amber ; whatever his sur- roundings, his knowledge, or his labor, we know that man. Every one knows what it is to be driven like a slave to his task, knows what it is to have an unwilling mind yoked Obebtence Demanbeb. 101 to a compelled body, and to go scratching over the light soil, driving a yoke of bullocks- There is a small school of thinkers in Germany who endeavor to apply the laws of mathematical certitude to the phenomena of the human mind. Thought, feeling, sensa- tions, etc., are simply representations, which in the mind are opposed to one another ; if one representation does not arrest another, it is simply lost ; it has not come above the threshold of consciousness. Just such a genesis of ideas our Lord por- trayed nineteen centuries ago in this parable ; desires are appealing to the consciousness of that young husbandman ; his will decides the body must answer for its task ; but the mind roams, and the zigzag furrow testifies of the conflicting motives ; these are representations in arrest, says the scientist ; these are motives at variance, saith Jesus. " Being is absolute position," says Herbart, neglecting to define it ; Christ simply assumes the existence of our eternal natures, and photographs for all time the soul in travail betwixt two opinions, the "must" and the 'T will not." The plain, unlettered Christian, with his finger upon this text, has, ever since the English Bible was translated, had more psychology at his fingers' 102 Hen) Concepts of £){b Dogmas. tips than all science, until through Aristotle this modern school, groping its way in the Stygian darkness of the soul left to its own native light, hath at length, unbeknown to itself, touched the hem of the Master's gar- ment. Men wonder at the power of the English Bible, and behind it all, above the most obvious things, remains as one most important factor the soul knowledge that it gives. No man of ordinary education knows himself in all the recesses of his soul nature, who has not thumbed the New Testament. And no gifted philosopher, however much he may know tongues and systems, so long as he allies himself with the world spirit which is against God, can ever hope to attain unto the knowledge of the human heart which the devout man enjoys, who prays God to en- lighten him as h^ reads, and who, by reason of his sympathetic interest, is quick to apply the teaching to himself and learn the height and breadth of his heart. Our text reveals just what human experi- ence declares, that indecision is the bane of life. There are all about us men who in their good moments are saints and in their bad moments devils. There have been many Dick Steeles who can prepare for debauchery Obebtence Demanbeb. 103 by long dissertations on morality ; and this because, putting their hands to the plow, they look back ; they start the furrow well, but they do not finish it ; they have all the maxims of commonplace religion on their tongues, but they do not give the heart and purpose to the case in hand. Their thought is behind them, when it should in aspiration stretch out before them to the accomplish- ment of their labor ; the allurements of the past clog the will, deaden their interest in the work God has set them to do ; they zig- zag their course. The kingdom of heaven is not won in such a way. An epistle well puts this same truth : **For he that doubteth is like the surge of the sea, driven by the wind and tossed." Again, the same epistle says, " The double-minded man is unstable in all his ways." It is well, then, for us, when our imaginations are on the past, that we remember to keep our eyes upon the present, because Christ requires a straight furrow ; and that we do not allow past de- lights to enervate and weaken the resolu- tion of the heart. '' Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are the issues of life." It is, I think, noticeable that Christ does not ask us to preserve in our souls an equi- 104 HerD Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. librium of motives; "He that is not for me is against me." This presents a strong con- trast to much of the current thought of our time ; it is in favor to say, " My mind is in the balance ; I see good in both sides. I am not able to declare myself." Indeed, it is claimed that it is a sign of mental power that one vacillates back and forth between two opin- ions, calling forth, as it did recently from a distinguished preacher, the comment that such an equilibrium was proof of mental weakness rather than of stronger qualities of the intellect. However that may be, the primary question here is concerning the mind of Christ. His disapproval of spir- itual indeterminateness is pronounced ; that man is portrayed in a sentence, " He that hath his hand upon the plow, and looketh back." Jesus gives no sanction to divided affections or divided metal states. If you are in equilibrium, put yourself out of it ; for that very pose between Christ and the world, that air of haughty indifference, that assumed superiority over those who decide for Him, is proof final and conclusive of your lack. Do not believe that a vacillating pur- pose can win the guerdon of His approval. Do not believe that an intellectual accept- £)bebtcnce Demanbeb. 105 ance of Christ is enough, while your heart- strings, entwined about other loves and other passions than His, are tugging to draw you back to the world. This brings us face to face with the fun- damental doctrine of our text ; that Jesus Christ demands complete soul surrender of heart and of life on the part of those who are true believers. No qualification can hide this blemish ; no excuse can be pleaded against this judgment ; they are not fit. And at the same time no lack can be pleaded against those thus qualified by decision ; to criticise the lack of a true believer, accord- ing to Christ's definition, is to exalt one's self to the position of critic of the Master. As all roads led of old to Rome, so all con- ceptions of Christian duty lead to Christ. The photographs of the ancient Italian painters, so far as they have come under my notice, give to the Master a beatific and exalted ex- pression of tenderness. The defects of these paintings are their beauty, for which there is no foundation in the Gospels, the absence of any trace of soul struggle, such as Geth- semane must have left on Him, and an ap- pearance of self-esteem such as in our time marks the countenances only of egotists and 106 Xl<^vo (Zonc^pts of £)[b Dogmas. mystics. That there is somewhat of church tradition behind these representations, is un- doubtedly true ; but at most it is only tra- dition ; they are church likenesses. The modern painters have erred in giving too intellectual an appearance ; you see superb intelligence, precocious and brilliant features. But a Roman Catholic artist, Munkacsy, has at length painted a Protestant Christ ; it is a picture of superb power ; every form in it is faultlessly posed. The scene is laid in the judgment hall. Pilate on his throne, a hard headed, sensual autocrat, conscious of his strength and yet doubting whether to sac- rifice the so-called King of the Jews to fanat- ical enemies, is portrayed with all his doubts upon him, as he listens to the old man Caiphas, the high priest, the bombastic pros- ecutor, who with swelling indignation and self-contained manner presents the substance of the charge. Behind Caiphas sits in garnet robes and defiant aspect a rich Pharisee, who with contemptuous and haughty pride views the Christ. There are one or two sympa- thetic countenances ; but the crowd in gen- eral has the appearance of being interested in the prosecution and anxious for the re- sult. One of the rabble officiously inflicts £)bebtence Dcmanbeb. 107 an insult, another shouts aloud, " Crucify Him ! " But that Christ is worth traveling many miles to see. It is criticised, but to me it appears well-nigh faultless. The God-man is shown to be strung with im- mense tension. His hands, bound before Him, alone restrain Him from vigorous gest- ure, and yet in all the pressure under which He labors, you see Him completely under con- trol. His face is that of one hunted to death, but the resolution which speaketh from His eyes is unconquerable. This is the Galilean at bay, the compassionate Jesus himself need- ing compassion ; this is the wrung soul which prayed, "Father, if it be Thy will, let this cup pass from Me." A Christ of such resolution is the Christ who speaks from our text. At the time of its utterance He was indeed under less press- ure, but He is the same uncompromising, fearless, exacting personality in all things which make for righteousness. He demands thy unconditional obedience. CARL MARK'S FLAGELLANTS. ' ' If ye love Me, keep My commandments. ' ' — John 14 : /J. CARL MARK, the painter of ''The Flagel- lants," was born in Milwaukee. After an unsuccessful attempt to support himself there as a painter, in 1880 he returned to Munich by way of Boston and New York. His con- nection with a city so near us certainly height- ens the interest we feel in his work. From 1885 to 1889 he labored on this canvas, rather more than ten feet wide. This is ap- proximately half the length of time bestowed by the mighty Angelo upon "The Last Judg- ment," who spent seven years upon but rela- tively a few more figures. But while Angelo painted no less than five distinct paintings, each one of which might have been dissevered and been separately framed, Marr gives us but one concept. Notice, too, the difference in choice of subjects ; while Angelo paints the resurrection from the dead, the judgment seat of Christ, the condemnation of the wicked, and Charon ferrying the souls of the (108) Carl mart's flagellants. 109 dead across to Hades, Marr paints a mediaeval church scene. Angelo soars on the wing" of imagination, and reveals glimpses of hidden mysteries of religion which are the symbols of faith ; Marr reveals a time about three centuries previous to Angelo's day, the like of which Angelo himself may have seen, and displays the external form of that faith of which Angelo gave the content. That Marr selects one of the excrescences in church life, is no criticism ; it illustrates that very pecul- iarity, and casts side light upon that same faith. Angelo's *' Last Judgment " and Marr's "Flagellants" present about the same con- trast that is to be found between the ordi- nary Protestant faith of our time, and the actions of the colored Christians of the South during the moments of frenzy in their relig- ious meetings ; it is the content of faith over against the outward manifestation of what a disordered imagination esteems to be a natural inference from, or adjunct of, that faith. The devotion of faith may take varied forms, and it is its effort to make some act or acts of devotion of especial value in the sight of God so that it shall prevail for the forgive- ness of sins. Hence we find sacrifice per- verted in the Old Testament so that its 110 Xlevo Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. sacrificial nature is lost sight of, and the sacrificial act comes to have the virtue of a fetich in itself, until the Psalmist exclaims : — " Sacrifice and offering Thou hadst no delight in; Mine ears hast thou opened : Burnt-offering and sin-offering hast Thou not required. Then said I, Lo, I am come; In the roll of the book it is written of me : I delight to do Thy will, O my God." This is quoted concerning Christ in the loth chapter of Hebrews, the mighty epistle of the atonement. Similarly, Christ quoted and explained the Old Testament in Matt. 9:13: ''But go ye and learn what this meaneth, I desire mercy, and not sacrifice : for I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." So, too, may we quote our text : "If ye love me, keep my commandments," as giving Christ's own emphasis upon the ethics of life. Let us see how these Christian Flagellants illustrated their conception of faith. They appeared in the nth century, but the first widespread impression made was this which arose from their self- beatings along the streets of Perugia, which is only a hundred and fifty miles from Rome itself. The im- Carl maw's flagellants. HI mediate occasion was the terrible state of fear into which Italy was then plunged by the horrors of the Guelph and Ghibelline wars, which were in brief the Papacy against the princes and the neighboring free cities of Italy. From Perugia they spread over Southern and Western Europe ; they reap- peared during the black death in 1348, and during the famine, pestilence, and war threat- ened in the days of the Turkish invasion of Europe in 1399; the excitement of the time being heightened by one of the periodic scares of Christendom over the predicted end of the world. These are their prominent appearances, if we add that of 1417, when they were under the lead of St. Vincent. Their minor appear- ances, however, were numerous, the last re- corded being at Lisbon, Portugal, in 1820. They seem to have formed a brotherhood, which maintained its organization through several centuries. At some periods they were despised and persecuted by the church in whose bosom they were nourished and of whose doctrine they were the natural out- growth. At Perugia, however, at the time of Rainer, they were demonstrating in be- half of the Guelph or Papal party. A writer 112 Item Concepts of £)\b Dogmas. says: ''Great numbers of the inhabitants of this city, noble and ignoble, old and young, traversed the streets, carrying in their hands leathern thongs, with which, according to the chronicle of the monk of Padua, ' they drew forth blood from their tortured bodies, amid sighs and tears, singing at the same time penitential psalms, and entreating the com- passion of the Deity.* They laid great stress upon the baptism of blood obtained by means of the scourge." It was a kind of national fast and humiliation for the sins of the peo- ple, by which they hoped to escape the ter- rible bloodshed of their time. In Marr's picture, Rainer is a remarkable figure, clad in the black of his monk's or- der, but he has a dark, wolfish face. That man, as Marr has painted him, is cruel, fana- tical, shrewd, determined. At the one side is the young athlete laying on the blows vig- orously, with the spirit of self glorification in his very pose ; he has come out to show the thronging crowd how to do it, and hopes to win their applause ; his spirit is like that of the young Comanche buck in the war dance. You feel you would like to be there and see him, he is so nervy. A little behind Rainer is an old man, past his prime, Carl irtarr's flagellants. 113 but with the strength of his prime still in him. His is a different spirit ; a troubled mind finds relief in the self-inflicted lash ; his bleeding memory finds panacea for its shame in each stinging blow ; the scourge he wields is but the external symbol of the inner casti- gations of conscience ; the suffering without is the veriest trifle compared therewith, and the deeper it cuts the better, for a good wincing blow doth grant relief to the pent-up pressures within. At the old man's side is a beautiful girl of fourteen summers, with her pure hands folded meekly across her breast, her features expressing the sorrow which has been pressed upon her by the common rumor of the town, or by the preaching of Rainer here with the beetling brow. She has done nothing to be repented ; she has no thong ; such youth and innocence cannot be so harshly treated. Rainer, who leads the pro- cession, is looking back to her reservedly, as if amid his general unconcern at the brutality of the blood-stained backs he would refresh himself by a half glance at such lovely saintli- ness. Beside is borne upon men's shoulders a figure of the crucified Jesus, whom all pro- fess to serve, young man, old man, maiden, and monk. It is heavy, graven work, of more 8 114 Herr) Concepts of £)I6 Dogmas. cost than the price put upon the head of the matchless Christ, whose image is only the dumb, dead show of Him whose death was priceless as His life was unique, and doubtless inferior to some other work, in some other Umbrian city, by some more celebrated artist ; and yet Perugia in the first glows of its artistic splendor treasures it, and the cold heart of Rainer is proud to have it here at the head of his procession, for that is all which is given us in detail by the artist. And here they bear a dead image of Christ, who have need enough to know a living and resurrected Son of God. Suppose this boy, so masterful, should look back and see instead of a wooden thing forming a part of street- show pomp, a true vision of the real Christ ; would not the true manliness of that real Christ appeal tp him, so bravely making show of a heroism that is rudely veiled brute force ? and should he see the true hu- mility of the Son of man, would he not be stricken dumb, because that instant the dark- ness within him of his own self-glorification was overwhelmed by the meekness of the gentle Christ ? What pity that the old sin- ner, blindly looking straight ahead and piteously seeking distraction from the ever- Carl Klavts flagellants. 115 present wickedness of his heart, by the sting of his self-inflicted blow, might not look there to see a face of flesh in the death agony, in order that sin might be forgiven and the penitent sinner find relief through a pardon bought by blood ! How sweet it would be if that dear girl should but look that way in the dew of her youth and in the fresh- ness of her untainted spirit ! If the old fox Rainer should turn there, what shame must be his, when his malignity and false- ness stands face to face with the holiness of the Son of God. But this does not intervene, the pageant proceeds, bearing the lifeless image of a dead Christ. We know now how this all came about ; that Rainer represented a scheming Papacy which, seizing upon the flagellant principle, sporadically and obscurely practiced and out of sight, through its devoted monk organized a gigantic and scenic appeal, to heaven osten- sibly, but really an appeal to men, that they should rise to the help of the Lord's repre- sentative on earth, and so end the sorrows of the land by consigning all of the earth in sight to a ruling Pope, God's vicegerent on earth. No wonder the artist has painted cunning in the face of Rainer the tool- 116 Hen? Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. The other figures represent well the classes whom they relied upon for support, — the in- nocent, the remorseful, and the vainglorious. So it has ever been the need, a living Christ in the hearts of the people ; the fact, the living church dead to the most deeply sig- nificant acts of the life of Christ ; or to state it differently : the fact, a living church of the dead Christ reaching out its Catholic Apos- tolic hands — and what hands they are! — for pelf and power. It was apprehension of this that led Michael Angelo to paint his **Pieta," which represented the Holy Mother holding the dead Christ upon her knees, fit type and symbol of the thought and attitude of all in that day who honored the command- ment of Christ. The need of that age and the need of every other is a living faith in the true and real Son of God, who ever liveth in heaven, the guide and Ihelper of his sincere disciples ; the re- ality, alas, is too often a dead faith supplanted by a vain hope of attaining the rewards of faith through atoning blood by the arts of self-immolation. What they did vaunt and display was the bleeding back and the stained thong, and this not alone to men, but also to God, that ostensibly He might witness their Carl Iltarr's flagellants. 117 frenzy and flaming zeal, and grant them deliverance as individual and nation, in view thereof. We can but think of the an- cient trial between Elijah and the priests of Baal, who immolated themselves and called loudly upon their god, amid the taunts of the prophet. It is an exemplification of the heathen way, which considers the gods ap- peasable by the sacrifices which a man's hands may make. It is the spirit of all ritualism, which places appeasement in the hands of a priesthood, or rests it upon some act of devotion. Jesus Christ has said, " If ye love me, keep my commandments ; " and the Christian church sayeth, "Do penance, at- tend regularly upon worship, profit by the institutions of religion," while she too often forgetteth to add, *' But remember that these are of virtue solely as they shall be an assist- ance to a life of obedience to the Holy Lord Jesus, the shepherd and bishop of souls." One has recently said most truly : ** Then, the simple supper-talk with the twelve friends, met in a fellowship sanctified by prayer and love : now, an elaborate altar, jeweled vestments, pealing organ, kneeling and awe-stricken worshipers ; then, meetings from house to house for prayer, Christian 118 Hern Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. praise and instruction in the simpler facts of the Master's life and the fundamental prin- ciples of His kingdom : now, churches with preachers, elders, bishops, sessions, pres- byteries, councils, associations, missionary boards ; then, a prayer breathing the com- mon wants of universal humanity in a few simple petitions : now, an elaborate ritual appealing to ear and eye and imagination, by all the accessories which art and music and historic association combined can con- fer ; then, a brotherhood in Jerusalem, with all things in common and a board of deacons to see that all were fed and none were sur- feited:"^ to all of which we say, as did our fathers of old. It is not of the Lord. Back to Christ and His commandments, or ye cannot abide in His love. Down with the Flagel- lants ; down with Ritualism ; yea, down even with the church, if by it the true Christ be obscured, and fetiches of devotion be erected instead. For the only valid thing in Chris- tianity is love and obedience to God through Christ, whom He hath sent. 1 Lyman Abbott. THE FACE OF CHRIST. '■^ Seeing it is God that said. Light shall shine out of darkness, who shijied in our hearts^ to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.'''' — 2 Cor. 4 : 6. THIS is a declaration concerning the light which lighteth every man who cometh into the world. We must agree with the Quaker in asserting the universality of God's influence upon humanity ; we must agree with the revelation contained in the New Testa- ment, which declares that the Holy Ghost reveals the person of Christ to the conscious- ness of believers, so that, illumined, they show forth the true nature of the person of the world's Redeemer. Our text is a taking of the part for the whole, A sample of the glory of God as revealed in Christ is obtained when we attain true apprehension of the character of God as revealed in the face of Jesus. The object of the gospel here set forth, which has sprung up in so great splen- dor of God, is to scatter its rays into all parts of the known world, so that men shall behold ("9) 120 ruvo Concepts of £)I5 Dogmas. the illumination of the character of God, as set forth best, or if you please, adumbrated most clearly to the limited capacity of men, in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. This is a remarkable scripture, because it implies an acceptance of the face as a measure of the man. The wondrous nature of the great Master of the art of doing good, who in poverty, chastity, and obedience went about laden with compassions for the sick and tired rabble of the Galilean towns, showed the depth of His loving-kindness man-ward in His face. He who in a world laden with shams and fettered by hypocrisies lived honestly and spake the truth, spoke out honestly from His honest eyes. The carpenter's Son of Nazareth, prepared by long years of medi- tation for His mission, with the conscious- ness of His capacities, and filled with longing for the redemption of humanity, spake out the fullness of His heart in the very tremor of His silent lips. When He, who had in the very constitution of His personality the pledge of God's omnipotence, and whose life was a constant endeavor for the accomplishment of the eternal purposes of the Almighty Father, at length in the place of a skull, at the hands C!}e ^acii of CF?rt$t. 121 of the greatest military and commercial power of the earth, under instigation of the noblest religion the world then knew, suffering the pangs of death, cries out, ''Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit," and turns His face, we may see the illumination of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. What wonder that Wallace, portraying this scene in "Ben Hur," makes Simonides, the aged Jew, answer Hur's, " Now cover thine eyes, and look not up ; but put thy trust in God, and the spirit of yon just Man so foully slain," with the reproof: *' Nay, let us henceforth speak of him as the Christ." The greatest proof of blood is said to be the color of the skin. From the raised and colored sculptures of the valley of the Nile we learn that there has been no change in color on the part of the Egyptian popula- tion for a hundred generations ; the eyes of Anthony and Cleopatra looked upon the swarthy backs of servitors bearing the same hues of skin, as do the eyes of the modern traveler. This is a far better clue to race than language or customs, which are fre- quently imposed by conquest or changed by contact. The next most important witness to community of blood is the size and shape 122 HctD Concepts of £)[b Dogmas. of the skull. Cranial similarities are among the best witnesses that God perpetuates types and deals with men in bulk as nations and communities, as well as with men indi- vidually. In color and type Jesus was a Hebrew ; how much He bore the mark of His race, or how little its distinguishments distinguished Him, we do not know. He was doubtless Jew enough so that we should rec- ognize Him as such did He to-day walk our streets. But as men have portrayed, striving to bring to the canvas somewhat of the con- cept of the glory of God in the face of Christ, it has been a national face, alien to what was the face of the form of Jesus ; it has been a limited human face, it has been a face lack- ing the majesty and glory of God. Turn over, then, the noblest prints repro- ducing the well-nigh inspired productions of artistic genius, and feast thine eyes on the likenesses purporting to clothe anew to mod- ern eyes Hirri who is at the right hand of the throne of God, and close the book and rest thy head upon thy hands, and see if thy heart can accept any of these as a satisfaction of its ideal. I am sure the best that man's hand can fashion and his heart conceive cannot equal the glory of God as it shines within CI?e S<^u of (Ll}vxst 123 thee, the Holy Ghost being thy teacher. The picture is of earth : the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ is of heaven. Away with these earthly substitutes for the unseen face of Christ in the heavens, away with the rude images of Christ on the crucifix, away with the wayside shrine, the forms of agony, and the rude clots of blood, away with the human Christ ; give us the face of the Son of Mary with the Godhead shining through it. Notice, first, that it is the glory of God in the face of humanity that is to become a matter of knowledge through the Holy Ghost. The glory of God is not best set forth by some great earthquake scene, some black- ness and darkness and tempest, but rather by God's glory manifest in the face of the Son of man. When Jesus died, the signifi- cance of the event and the glory of God was not to be found in the yawning earth, or the rocks rent, or the veil of the temple torn in twain, or the darkness, but in the face of Him who upon the central one of three crosses showed forth in His features an illumination of the glory of God. Say how can that be ? that the glory of God is not to be sought in earth's most glorious sunsets, in shadow of the mightiest mountains, or on the bosom 124 Xicw Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. of the most picturesque hill-locked lake, un- der the spray of the most gigantic waterfall, or amid the thunder of its leaping floods, but in the face of man ? The answer is because God is something besides power spelled with a large " P," because God is something more and something very different from a giant hurling hill-tops to scoop out lake basins ; He is something else than natural law in its most sublime workings. It is a God reveal- ing Himself through personality ; which reve- lation thus conditioned is certain evidence that He is a person, for if He were a law and a cosmic fact merely, men must learn of it by its manifestations, and religion could be comprised in nature, as in all atheistic philosophy. This prepares us for another consideration ; namely, that the face is a mirror reflecting the thoughts and purposes of the heart. A face is not a mask ; by great force of will and long training it has sometimes become such so far as the momentary thought is con- cerned. Such it notably was in the case of Mr. Disraeli, and of Napoleon the First. But even then the craftiness of the one and the brutality of the other shone through it. You need not be told the master motive of their ^(?e ^acz of (Ef^rist. 125 lives, when once you have seen representa- tion of their strongly marked faces. Clean, pure thoughted high-mindedness works it- self out from the heart into the face. The glory of God was in one face, and worked itself out there from the heart ; there was perpetual benignity on one brow, perpetual good-will lurked in the corners of one mouth, perfect love as an aroma was the atmosphere around one personality, perennial kindness welling up in one heart was in the look of the person, and is there now and evermore. In other words, the human heart is made by our text the interpreter of the loftiest passions of the Godhead, and the human face is made their fitting and adequate exponent. If therefore thou wouldst know what the face of Jesus was like, together with the su- peradded glory of the majesty of God as an aureole incorporated in it, seek thou the illu- mination of the Holy Ghost. Seek thou not to know the exact form of those features, for thou couldst only have the merest outline without the fire of life and without the in- duement of glory. And as thou shalt turn the leaves of the familiar narrative of the life of Christ as told by Apostolic men, or shalt study the applications of the principles 126 Hen? Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. of Christ to the practical duties of every-day life as made in the Epistles, or shalt strive to unravel the hidden thing in the uncouth book of Revelation, ask the blessing of God that thou mayest learn aright the lesson of obedience, and mayest have superadded a better understanding of the glory of God as revealed in the face of Jesus Christ. And thou shalt grope after that likeness, but shalt not see it ; and everything that thy imagina- tion conjurest up will be found to be some recollection of painting or picture of Christ refurbished up, and thou shalt be more con- scious than ever of the blank that is pre- sented to the eye of him who would gain a definite idea of the appearance of the face of the Master. But pray on and enter more and more into fellowship with the sufferings of Jesus by the way of self-denial, and go out in service of Him, bearing thy cross with the fullest inten- tion, God helping, to carry that cross to the place of crucifixion for that motive which makes thy cross a possibility to thy heart. Enter more and more into sympathy with the mind of Jesus in its evident purpose to do good to every living being in so far as He had opportunity. And as thou prayest, thou shalt be conscious of a presence with thee, CI?e ^acz of Cl^rist ' 127 thou shalt live under the inspiration of a personality. As in various acts of life thou shalt live in fashion presented by the attitude of that personality toward the problems of pure being, and shalt find in this and that scripture the relation of that wondrous per- son delineated with precision, there will dawn upon thy understanding a revealed soul power of exceeding largeness. In your ideal of that person, righteousness, honor, and truth shall have their place, the compassions will be found in all fullness in Him ; righteousness and mercy will be found to have kissed each other ; benignity and justice will be seen harmonious. And though the world cannot produce anthentic features of the Son of man who is the Son of God, helped of the Holy Ghost thou shalt be conscious of the illumina- tion of the glory of God, which must be in that face, its compassions, its loves, its hopes, its hates, its responsibilities, its wanness from cares, its sorrows so deep, its anguish of death so unspeakable. And thou shalt know of a truth that thy illumination is of God the Spirit, and that the glory of God which is as an illumination of the face of Jesus, thou hast knowledge of in thy heart ; thou hast His attributes, thou knowest the marks which will lead thee to His face. THE STRICKEN CHRIST. ^^ He hath no forf/i nor co?neliness ; and when we shall see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him. ' ' — Isa. jj : 2. THE Christian who has carried his faith beyond commonplace morality, and has bowed his spirit before the unique presence of the Son of man, cannot fail to think what must have been the form and mien, the face and expression, of the Nazarene. Other art- ists may paint the mythological heathen gods, Landseer may paint lions, Barye may fashion griffins or any uncouth beast unknown ex- cept to his own imagination. Church may paint landscapes, Holman Hunt faces, Watt portraits and allegory ; but the man who paints for Christendom is the man who paints the face of Jesus Christ. To the Christian believer all art is as nothing compared with Christian art centering in Christ ; all art lacking its consummate flower and being, as a plant that never blossoms, if it does not present in the highest type of its gen- ius adequate representation of Him who was (128) ^l}t Stnchn €l}txst 129 more than Shakespeare, for whom Bacon wrote his plays, because the stars presided over His birth, and the supernatural was in one or- ganism fully in touch with mundane things. That the problem is difficult goes without the saying. The abstractions of justice, purity, virtue, and philanthropy are in their nature absolute and characteristic only of God the Supreme ; and these not dependently suggested, but in union with Omnipotence must be co-joined and co-terminate a finitude which we who are men have in a narrow tene- ment of perishable clay, so dependent upon environment that the least dislocation of the eternal law of nature whisks us out of being in a second, a flight of space in which the winged message of modern life will leap underneath the oceans and connect the hemi- spheres. That weakness which in a second of time is as nothing, leaving a destroyed body and having a spirit translated from earth to Elysium, '* This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise " illustrating the power of God in translation from earth to heaven in the same space of time in which man makes his greatest triumph over nature in the elec- tric circuit, this weakness which at best can only meet the wear and tear of its environ- 9 130 HetD Concepts of £)I6 Dogmas. ment, less than a hundred years out of eter- nity, must be united with the attributes of the Godhead, its repose and power, in the face of One on canvas to express with any true realism Jesus Christ to a human heart. Michael Angelo and Raphael must have known God. Munkacsy, the artist of "Christ before Pilate," must know God ; the artist of the future must know the heavenly Spirit and the King of kings, and must cease to grovel with sense and time perceptions only. In the ancient history of the church, three types, illustrating three concepts of the char- acter of Christ, have been left as imperish- able memorials of the faith of long ago. There is the young and fair Christ of the Western Church, the Christ which modern Christendom has succeeded to historically, and illustrated, by the tendency of modern artists to portray Christ in the temple as do Hoffman and Holman Hunt. Then there is the middle-aged Christ of the Greek or Eastern Church, a Christ of unusual maturity for his years, perhaps the truest Christ be- cause the home Christ, that is, the Christ ideal affected by the local traditions which hung about the place of His nativity. Finally, there is the monkish Christ, authority for this CI?e Strtcfen €l}v\st 131 last conception being derived from the text of the morning : ** He hath no form nor come- liness ; and when we see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him." The Oberammergau Christ is that of a reformer and somewhat of this type. The Christ of the great Russian painter Gay, recently brought to notice, is plainly to be classed here ; it is a well-nigh demented beggar who faces the hard-headed wicked Roman gov- ernor, Pontius Pilate. That the monk who lived a holy life in his cell apart from men should foster this ascetic, sorrowful ideal, and make it famous, is not strange. For gloomy views of life, destiny, and religion must needs effect such an end. Men in gen- eral have never been able to assent to the Greek canon of taste which declares that physical beauty and moral health are co- terminous in personalities. From Socrates to William Lloyd Garrison the men who in civilized nations have had most conscience and native moral power, have almost without exception been lacking in per- sonal beauty. The American people, whose Greatheart was Abraham Lincoln, and whose Nestor was Washington, have not come to regard it as essential to great moral endow- 132 Hero Concepts of £)\b Dogmas. ments. There is nothing said in the New Testament either way, but this we can say, that they who have great bitterness of soul struggle, and who with great purity and lofti- ness of purpose meet evil, show their buffetings in their faces, ourselves being judges. Yet there is nothing in a face, one way or another. We would commit no man to jail for his looks nor would we hate him unheard. The heart is the essential feature, and out of the heart the mouth speaketh. No man shall be com- pelled by his address to overcome our dislike, like the French orator who must needs in the first fifteen minutes dissipate by his eloquence the bad impression made by his ugly face. There is no virtue, then, in itself in beauty or its lack, but nevertheless the great act of the life of Christ is one of repulsive nature. All other acts are commonplace beside ; His death is stamped as a divinely wrought office, an act full of His deity and son-ship, an act fraught with more meaning than anything else He did. Every other office of His life might be attributed to human nature suitably en- ^dowed. This alone is devoid of significance if He is merely an endowed man. Did He die as Socrates died, an unjustly accused person, hounded by enemies, yet innocent, magnani- C{?e Strtcfen Cf?nst. 133 mous, and calm ? or did he die as Jesus Christ ? Dodge it you cannot, that the su- premest moment of the Nazarene's earthly career, that calculated to give type to faith, that which sets the seal upon the whole trans- action of His life as altogether of God and not of man, reveals the distressed, anguish-laden features of one in death pangs, by cruel agony smitten ; it is the awful and repulsive face of Jesus on the cross, the Saviour of sinners, which is transmitted to history. But men are suffering all about us, and while we do not believe that it is punish- ment of necessity, we cannot tell what meas- ure of it may be due to violation of God's law in this generation or the last. This Man was sinless and had a sinless nature, and the very fact of that sinlessness makes eager the onlooker to know why the just must needs suffer. But we forget the face of Him writh- ing in pain ; let us remember the dead, we say, as we saw them in life ; let us forget all that lies between the glimpse we had of health and strength and happiness in an- other and better day. But Jesus Christ, by the miracle of His death, would keep alive His passion. Men might well close their eyes on this tragedy, and refuse to view it ; no 134 Hem Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas, man can peruse the account of it at the close of a series of readings in the Gospels without eyes blinded by tears which have arisen unbidden. But however much we would put from us thought of a bleeding, dying Christ nailed to a wooden cross, His dear flesh torn and bleed- ing, His human nature ebbing slowly away, His heart crying out to the Father in His un- utterable anguish, Christ commands against that oblivion ; He would be seated in our hearts with a presence full of suffering, un- comely in its anguish, a personality of sor- rows, acquainted with grief; and the face at first hidden from Him must be turned to- ward Him, and the averted eyes must be raised in faith. Is this not repulsive, this Jew raised upon the cross of a malefactor ? Yes, says the skeptic, you have a bloody, uncomely, hateful religion. Indeed there is no form, no comeliness, in the Crucified, that men should desire Him. He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief There are three great lessons in that ter- rible scene. First, it is a revelation of the love of God. No easy-chair philosopher could teach this. Christ in his miracle- working tours about Galilee never could CF?e Stnchn deny their self-consciousness as their God-consciousness ; we are as sure that He lives as that we live. How much the incarnation of the divine wisdom in the person of the Nazarene has deepened human knowledge, let the intelli- gence of Christendom as opposed to the ignorance and superstition of heathenism give good and sufficient answer. It may be truly affirmed that notwithstanding the C!?e Itteat voli'id} is Pertsf)tng. 163 genius of Greek and Roman times, all knowl- edge, philosophy, and government in any Christian epoch doth vastly outweigh it. This much is certain, for twenty centuries the dialectics of this world have not been able to overcome the foolishness of preach- ing, and I doubt if it ever will. The seeth- ing life of the ancient Roman world could not forget Him ; the Roman power could put Him to death, but could not end His influence. He lives through the ages in spite of the generations of men. He brought food that should remain. But in no sphere did He complement all that men knew so much as in the moral and spiritual life. Duty henceforth became plain to men. Self-denial was established as a component part in all goodness. Love became the leverage for moving men to righteousness. The incarna- tion was the re-beginning of a holiness which had fled a sin-cursed earth. To the perfect- ness of our ideal we unceasingly turn, and in His life find light, for the life was the light of men. THE PATIENT DOTH MINISTER TO HIMSELF. •* For God sent not the Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world should be saved through Him.'''' — John 3 ■' n- THERE is something in us that will not down, our acts being under the control of the will, and each able to do the most red-handed crime ; yet God has placed his daggers in the soul, as though some avenger were present with our secret self to bring a fiery and terrible vengeance upon the trans- gressor. Wordsworth, in one of his early poems, cites such a character : — ••He met a traveler, robbed him, shed his blood; And when the miserable work was done, He fled, a vagrant since, the murderer's fate to shun. " From that day forth no place to him could be So lonely, but that thence might come a pang, Brought from without to inward misery." Scientific descriptions of conscience fill the books, most of them in a high degree unsatis- (164) CI?e Patient boil} ^TTtnistcr to ^tmself. 165 factory ; but we do not need definitions ; we all know the power of conscience as a disturb- ing element in unrighteous calculations, in thwarting us of the fruits of illegitimate vic- tory by having the apples of gold turn to ashes within our grasp. Criminals long es- caped from justice give themselves up after years of successful hiding. Like Lady Mac- beth, it preys upon their minds as they sleep ; the stained hand is ever before their eyes, and " all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten it." "What, will these hands ne'er be clean ? " The heart of a child beats 140 times per minute, at the close of a year its stroke is 120, past middle life it is sixty or seventy beats. Napoleon and his conqueror, the Duke of Wellington, had only forty heart- beats a minute. May that not signify how those men could take enormous risks and carry them to the end ? how the one. Na- poleon, could face the allied armies of Eu- rope, after his exile to Elba, and make one more appeal to destiny on the field of Waterloo.-* and Wellington for nine mortal hours hold his line of battle firm until his military instinct divined^ unerringly that the time for a general onset of the whole front 166 Xitxo Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. had come ? For what is it that unnerves men but a heart pumping with violence, whitening the cheek and deranging the powers of the will ? Men wear out nowadays from nervous pros- tration, but that is generally due to heart failure, because of the reflex action of mental strain upon the source of life. Worry, trouble, and the nervous push of things necessary for successful life, the excitements of our poli- tics, the curse of the daily newspaper, with its appeals to our sympathies and hates, wear- ing us out with other people's concerns, the multitudinous amount of brain-work which a man can do through the telegraph and rapid means of transit, the enormous pressure of modern competition, making the waves of the commercial ocean with its tides of busi- ness, seem like the heaving waves of the ocean in storm, — all rest upon the physical constitution, and strike deepest at the heart. It flutters like a wounded bird's wing beating the unwilling air, or like a canary when you have your hand upon the cage, at some sud- den fear. A thousand hearts with sympathy are throbbing when some life-saving act is performed under our eyes, perhaps a strong man swoons when the deed is done. And tTE^e patient boil} minister to fjimself. 167 thus the mind acts on the physical constitu- tion ; the capacity for thought is in involun- tary connection with the engine which drives the wheels of our life ; he therefore that is a fugitive from the divine justice, lives faster, wears out sooner, and the joylessness of the life is heightened, by the drag of a decreased physical energy. This gives significance to the cry of the Psalmist, '* My heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God," for David had committed criminal sin, and knew the depres- sion of sin upon the body ; not only was his soul freed from burden, but the vital energy which we identify with the heart, the seat of the principle of life, was freed and blest in the great congregation. Thus doth God daily witness in the human being, giving the lie to the shameless asseveration of the street, namely, that the human body knows no con- science. What mean the nervous twitches of the criminal under the surveillance of the eye of suspicion ? What means the dethronement of reason under the pressure of a great crime, or when man is ready to give up his life of the body, because it is as naught compared with the shame of existence? I knew a boy once that took his life under just such cir- 168 Xlcw Concepts of £)16 Dogmas. cumstances. A judge has been known to leave the bench and place himself at the side of a prisoner at the bar convicted of murder, and confess to a similar crime thirty years before, so much heavier seemed the burden of a wicked conscience than the loss of phys- ical life, the enjoyment of which is the highest boon the body can confer upon the spirit. Says Macbeth. — *'How does your patient, doctor ? " Doctor. — "Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies. That keep her from her rest." Macbeth. — " Cure her of that. Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased. Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow. Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with sortie sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?" Doctor. — "Therein the patient must minister to him- self." We can say aye to that ; men know the power of conscience, but every man has his Cf?e patient botE? minister to £?imself. 169 own medicine. Often circumstances do alter cases, and he imagines great peril or fears great turgid imaginations which never could amount to much. I will only enumerate a few general instances. A very common excuse which is used as a sedative in our daily life for a troubled con- science is the plea : Somebody will sell liquor if I do not ; somebody will cheat the government if I do not ; somebody will op- press the poor if I do not. Another very common one is this : Everybody lies, every- body steals, everybody compromises with duty, everybody is a hyprocrite, particularly the minister and church-members ; therefore I am just like the rest. It is strange each person does not see that to his own Master he standeth or falleth, and that no excuse for wrong-doing can be found in the misdeeds of other people. But this is the medicine which many a patient ministers to himself. Now we have cited two classes of experi- ence, the worst of men and the best of men. But we have not placed the worst of men on a par with the best. While the worst suffer more or less the pangs of conscience, and particular men suffer extremely, we think it is true that the best people suffer more 170 Tuw Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. for small transgressions. We have striven to show a well-nigh universal characteristic of human experience, but the fact remains that those who live most uprightly suffer rela- tively most keenly for their derelictions. A person believing profanity wrong is shocked beyond measure if by any sudden thought- lessness he utters an oath. A person who scorns a liar is very much ashamed of a de- ceit, or even of whatmust appear a deceit in the eyes of his neighbor. This is not strange, the competent workman is he who feels most the ill-made joint, or the ugly gouge made by his chisel. The dabster thinks it can be made right by putty and paint. They who take pains in morals and religion know best the blemishes of an upright character, they trace disproportionately their moral oversights and their unintentional sins ; but I am direct- ing to the thought that the best and the worst have consciousness of dereliction, and that God has set up a chamber in the soul like that sealer's apartments at Washington, full of accurate standards of moral measures, so that when we reel off yard after yard ac- cording to our measure, we are somehow con- scious that we have not given God's measure, and having the facilities at hand, may set our measure right if we will. This gives the de- Cl?e patient boil} TTi'xmskv to ^imself. 171 gree of human responsibility. We can do better if we will, be juster, be truer, be more devout. For therein the patient doth minis- ter to himself The Indian mother of old threw her child into the Ganges to expiate the sin of her soul, "for therein the patient must minister to himself" Read the article in the March number of the Centtiry (1890) on the "Sun Dance of the Sioux Indians," and note how on the fourth day the young warriors presented their bared breasts to the knife of the medi- cine man, that on each side, near the shoul- der, the skin might be stripped up, and a bone skewer firmly attached to a thong sus- pended from the pole in the center, be sewn in on either side, that dashing themselves backward two or three hours, or perchance until the skewer had torn out, they might win the favor of the sun god ; the writer does not say expiation, but I am confident that their self-torture means more than adoration of the omnipotent power of the sun ; it is simply their way of atonement ; for therein the patient doth minister to himself But, says some one, how about your Chris- tianity } does it not, heathen fashion, provide some method of redemption adapted to the 172 Hctp Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. vagaries of the dififerent sets of people whom it incloses ? I answer, Yes. Boyesen says of Ibsen : "Christianity has, in his opinion, been vulgarized by its adaptation to average, com- mon-place men, and its demand of absolute purity, uprightness, and saintliness has been compromised at thirty or fifty per cent, ac- cording to the ability of imperfect human nature ;" which is altogether true ; for therein the patient hath ministered to himself. We need less of feeling and more of Christ. Having consciousness, as all do have in some measure, of condemnation before the bar of our own hearts, the question arises as to what medicine shall be given ; "for therein the patient must minister to himself." We may do as many are doing about us, — satisfy the conscience by specious excuses, blunt it by neglect and carelessness, stupify it by intoxicants or narcotics, each man going by himself, even as the heathen have and the heathen do. Is it not best to find another will standing above nature ? To find a law for the will ; which shall lead men to a medi- cine which they cannot apply each for him- self, nor one for the other ; which shall be revealed by personality adequate and holy ; and which shall gather all unto Himself, not CI?e patient boil} IHtntster to ^tmself. 173 through any base motive of purchase, but through mercy and favor, so that our redemp- tion is all of good will, and our moral healing the adequate cause of our salvation ? " For God sent not the Son into the world to con- demn the world, but that the world should be saved through Him." LONESOMENESS FOR GOD. " Having no hope, and zvithout God in the world.'''' — Eph. 2: 12. MAN is a gregarious animal. The wild horses of the plains are no surer to roam in herds than he to seek converse with his kind. When apart from men, he longs for their company, their friendship, their amity. When for crimes they hunt him into desert places, and he fears for his life, danger can- not prevent him from seeking the haunts of men ; he bares his breast to the bullets of the sheriff's posse, or to the knife-thrust of his enemy coming unawares, rather than endure the low spirits fostered by a life of exile in the solitudes ; and the oppressive nature of his loneliness drives him to saloon counters in the nearest scantling city. That depression of spirits known as homesickness is really lonesome sickness. There is nobody about us whom we know in such a case ; humanity in each personality seems like a huge dry-goods box ; we know nothing of the silks and satins inside. It is a mere (174) Conesomeness for ®ob. 175 casing of soft-fibered, rough material ; the soul grows lonesome in its environment. There are about plenty of men, but not men as we have known them heretofore. The doors of our hearts have been open to our friends ; they have been to us a delight, but behold, the delight is gone ; they may not be fifty miles from us, but inexperienced and accustomed to the sunshine of human favor in the circle in which we move, we are clouded, perplexed, saddened, disheartened. Men are not merely discomforted by this lonesome sickness through days of weeping and mock despair, — mock despair, I say, — because of the teasing of their fellows, which nettles them and makes very real the fact of which they have been cognizant all the way through, namely, that there was noth- ing to despair about, — but it happens in rare instances that men die of this same homesickness, the body being in such sym- pathy with the heart in its unfathomable longings after the touch of life in its essence, impacting its own life in the very seat of being, that is, the soul. My horse pounds heavily all night long in his stall for months, in his frantic longing for his harness-mate with whom he has been in one stable or an- 176 Heu) Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. other, in Canada or New Hampshire, from colt-hood ; my dog mourns the absence of his master ; my heart pounds away with seemingly trip-hammer heaviness, when as a boy in my teens just away from home, new school faces cannot replace or solace me for the every-day faces of home and village. Every created thing with affections empha- sizes the difference between mere automatic life, as in the tree trunk, and the sentient life of a creature that can love the presence and being of another creature like itself I might have been made unconscious of my neighbor, even as one stone is indifferent to every other, one grain of sea-shore sand to every other, which, heaped about it, covers it from the light of day, and have cared no more for sunshine than for darkness, but I was not so made ; down among other motives I recognize this one, which never argues out the logic of its position or the logic of events, but pulls away at heart leading-strings, demonstrating its presence by the reach of its cordlets deep into the heart of a man. A hermit sometimes builds his shanty in a neglected, barren place ; his unkempt person and his life apart are both good witnesses that he is not quite himself Such men are Conesomencss for ®o5, 177 unbalanced by the desire of human love un- attained ; one person denies them, they can- not transfer their regard to another ; denied the highest human relationship with natures too inflexibly true to turn about, they deny all human society because the highest and purest and best relation to their kind is not theirs. The lonesomeness of the heart over- spreads the intellect ; the feelings dominate the will, or rather swamp the personality, warping it ; the sentiments bleed to death through the one wound ; one grievous hurt of lonesome's poisoned arrow has spread a benumbing influence over those spiritual qualities of the inner man, so that he lives no more in his social instincts, but only keeps open such chambers of the soul as may be used with darkened windows, shutting the outlook and the sunshine derived from personal contact with our kind. I fancy that in these cases the imagination is unduly aroused, and that the attention is fixed upon the ideal of that never-dying love ; that such lives are transported by visions of the pres- ence of their beloved, and that, wrapped in the contemplation of their ideal made real, they crowd out actual association with man- kind. Just as Dickens, on occasion, used 12 178 Tlcw Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. to live with the creatures of his pen, spend- ing his daytime with them present in the room, revealed to his consciousness, and dreaming of them at night, may be. Just as Dante through long years treasured the thought of Beatrice, who never could be his in this life, as she was pledged to another, and separated from him by the great gulf of high social rank ; but whom in purest way he loved, fostering thought of her, of whom he wrote after her decease, and meeting whom in Paradise was his chiefest antici- pation. It seems plain to the preacher that these hermit souls must be explained as illustrat- ing the power of lonesomeness to dislocate the proper excitements of the mind and to en- kindle the imagination to an improper func- tion among the powers of the intellect. It illustrates the craving of the soul for compan- ionship in the highest degree ; for while it may have relations with humanity in the bulk, and may delight in them, such for in- stance as a man feels in a great congregation, or mass-meeting, or mob, yet the sense of companionship deals first hand with specific instances. We want to meet A, B, and C, and out of these various meetings and the Concsomeness for ®ob. 179 pleasures thereof comes the aggregate im- pression which we call pleasure of society. Accentuate any one acquaintance, and it be- comes friendship ; accentuate this, and you find only one friendship in reality or treas- ured in the imagination can help from lone- someness and gloom. Until recently the opinion has prevailed that under stimulants men open their hearts to the endearing fondness of friendship, and that to find the typical hail-fellow well met you must obtain a man with drink in him. This seems to be exploded ; the quickened pulses and swifter heart-beat are due to the circumstances, and occasion under which the drink is obtained, and not to the alcohol itself If you take the drinker apart, and give him all he desires, no such symptoms of careless hilarity appear. We must con- clude, therefore, that the social instinct is stronger than, the stimulant, and that the devotee who follows his cups has mistakenly judged of himself, and doth not know that God hath put within him living fountains of water that shall slake the thirst of friend- ship in a score of souls, and that it welleth up within him, continually satisfying him- self as well as others. These are primal 180 Hctp Concepts of £){b Dogmas, elements of being in him who is made in the image and likeness of God. And if the created thing hath bonds demanding satisfac- tion, He in whose likeness it is made hath similar bonds, and the inclination, need, and desire of the one will find satisfaction in the personality of the other. We are brought face to face with the fact that man's longing for companionship is not absolutely satisfied with the best which hu- man love and comradeship can give us, but that, having all that earth can give, we long for all that heaven can add of friend- ship's joy and comfort. It is not an idle thing to say that God's friendship is worth having. Knowest thou a man who has lived so impiously and wickedly that he has come to feel that God's favor cannot be won by his penitence,- that the heavens are brass above him, and God's hand clenched against him ? Then of a surety he is one from whom the friendliness of earth is stricken, on the withdrawal of the friendship of Heaven. If eternal goodness is against me, friendship is eternally dead to me, on earth and forever. Take up again, if you please, the case of that outlaw whose hands are red with human blood, shed with malice of forethought. Into Conesomeness for 6ob- 181 the solitudes of the prairies he urges his foaming steed, conscious of God's enmity and man's vengeance. He stops and looks behind him as he reaches the crest bordering the bottom-lands in the broad basin drained by a western river, and sees, as he carelessly swings half round in the saddle, the sheriff and his men behind. He ambushes him- self, commanding the path leading up the steep, perhaps behind his kneeling horse, or behind convenient bowlders swung and set- tled there by mighty waters before men were on the face of the earth. He shakes the cartridges of his repeating rifle into place. Malignity hath taken possession of him, defiance rules his brooding heart ; but they lose the trail at the water, and he journeys toward the Bad Lands, hoping in the desert to find rest for a nettled spirit. They follow him to his retreat in the valley ; with keen eye he learns their number, too many are they for one sure rifle ; he becomes a fugitive. Continuous watching without re- laxation wears upon his strength. At length in the moonlight, wrapped in his blanket, listening to the monotonous champ, champ, champ, of his tethered horse as he feeds near, resting his head on his rifle, he goes to 182 Hetp Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. sleep, to awake as strong men hold him pin- ioned, while the cold handcuffs are snapped upon his wrists. It is a fact that man is against him ; that sheriff is humanity's cham- pion ; those handcuffs are humanity's fetters ; these are man's agencies : but that smiting sense of Infinite Justice, repellant and hos- tile because outraged and despised, whence comes that, more terrible than armed men when once the human mind has been roused to observe how threatening is God's attitude to the transgressor ? And when he comes to trial, this red-handed assassin will fear not so much the punishments of earthly law, with its death sentence and the drop, as he will the withdrawal of God's face from a soul which clings to Him as naturally as a child to his father's hand, and the being is shut up to himself and his own resources, to himself and his own solitudes, while God is with- drawn afar. This world is full of meaning to the man of God ; this life is full of despair to the man in the world without God. Our text refers to the condition of the Gen- tile races before the preaching of the cross, consequent upon the rejection of the Mes- siah by His own people. The Gentile na- tions were plunged into sin and into the de- Conesomeness for ^ob. 183 spair consequent upon transgression of God's holy law ; the never-sleeping sentinel of con- science sounded his alarms ; even in their dreams men saw terrors because conscious that transgression leads to penalty and that the divine Power without us and within us, however defined, could not make His abiding- place with such souls. Men hungered and thirsted after God, hungered for His love, hungered for His friendliness, hungered for His companionship. The whole trend of this sermon has been to show that we need companionships and association, that we need it manward and Godward. Man of this world, satisfied with thine earthly friendships, what is that longing within thee, unquenched and unquenchable, except the cravings of a soul adapted to com- munion with the Most High, desiring that companionship fulfilled ? Believe me, that longing which cannot be satisfied is simply lonesomeness for God. Heap up thy wealth, magnify thy learning by long years of study, gratify thine ambition, lengthen out the list of thy friends to regimental proportions, all shall not avail to save thee from lonesome- ness for God, so long as thou closest thine heart to His entrance, so long as thou shut- 184 Xlcvo Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. test His love out from thy love, His life from thy life, His essential being from contact with thy being in that great act which we call communion with God. I read of a person the other day who spent a night in tears out of lonesomeness for God. It is needless to say God came and granted companionship and the consciousness thereof. Thou mayest be alone in the bright illumination of the ball room, as well as in the quiet of thy library amongst the books ; thou mayest be alone in this congregation, with many people within reach, as well as amid the trees of the virgin forest ; thou canst not place thyself in a circumstance where thou art not solitary within if God is apart. Turning thy face to the heavens, realizing thou art without Him in the world, how melancholy is thy loneli- ness ! Seek His^love and His favor, and He shall give His presence, "before whom Cheru- bim and Seraphim continually do cry, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty," and before whom angels veil their faces. FREEDOM OF THE SONS OF GOD. " Verily^ verily, I say to you,, Every one who doeth sin is the slave of sin^ — yohn 8:34. IT is a profound comment on this passage, and equivalent to another form of state- ment of the text, which says that personal liberty is secured by the servitude of vices. The habitues of the larger vices will allow a good name to become as empty as yes- terday's wind, will sacrifice fame so that it shall become as naught, a reputation like that of the great expounder of the Constitu- tion, becoming eaten by the corroding rust of human weakness, so to remain for all time. Nay more, they will lay their wives and their children upon the altar of their vices and consume them there, and finally will face death with the courage of a hero but the heart of a slave. You have seen them go forth into the land of shadows as slave caravans, each one bearing his yoke, and disappear in the darkness of African forests. Well hath Christ said, " Every one who doeth sin is the slave of sin." (185) 186 HetD Concepts of £)I6 Dogmas. Political liberty is another thing, but after all the same remark applies there as else- where ; there can be no secure liberty save by the servitude of vices. You may object to sumptuary laws as much as you choose ; but when vice shall rule, liberty shall die. The South American States and France are illustrations of this fact. They are republics indeed, but a republic cannot save a cor- rupted national life. Their sudden revolu- tions, each closing in terrible carnages of blood, are but ebullitions of a tyranny which is never wanting in the State, a sure sign of its moral and spiritual degeneracy. Pythagoras, the Orphic philosopher, five hundred years before Christ, declared, '' He who is the bondservant of sufferings and is ruled by them, is unable to be free." We have here a particular application of Christ's general axiom. For sin is not merely stal- wart vice, but sin as defined in our text by Him who spake as never man spake, is also every besetment of human flesh which, crys- tallized into a habit, maketh the better nature its servant ; it may be gluttony at table un- fitting for active duties in life ; it may be the white lie of deceit, which habitually driveth ^recbom of t(?e Sons of ^ob. 187 honor into hiding and maketh truth its slave, or other fault. The English public have recently been following with great interest a prosecution in the courts. It is known as Osborne vs. Har- grave. The suit was brought by Mrs. Os- borne against Mrs. Hargrave, her cousin, for saying that she, Mrs. Osborne, had stolen a pearl and diamond brooch which belonged to her. The first damaging fact was that Mrs. Osborne knew the drawer, opened by a secret spring, in which the jewels of Mrs. Hargrave were kept. She was identified by the jeweler, and her own handwriting upon the bank note received in payment proved conclusively that the charge was true. Mrs. Osborne was a long time in hiding, but was finally imprisoned to await trial for per- jury. Witness how one sin led her in bondage to another. Mrs. Osborne stole the jewels ; she then carried them to the jeweler as her own, she gave a fictitious address and a fic- titious name, told her fiance that she was innocent, and he married her, notwithstand- ing the scandal (April 4, 1891), believing her word. But this was not enough ; to carry out the pretense and satisfy her friends she 188 Hem Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. must needs bring suit against the Hargrave cousin, deceive her lawyer who took the case, and continue to dupe her husband so egregiously that when he saw the signature upon the note, he fainted, so clear was proof of his wife's transgression. Indeed is he that doeth sin the slave of that sin. I started with the declaration of Pythag- oras, " He who is the bondservant of suffer- ings and is ruled by them is unable to be free." Bodily pain, then, to revert to this original statement, may be a cause of sin. The weight of human suffering seems heavy enough, and sympathetic souls will say, Let that stand by itself; but while the impres- sions of pain are transitory, departing with its withdrawal, yet its mastery leaves us in bondage, and bondage where moral results are affected is sin. Sudden pain may make us well-nigh insane, but it is our duty to bear it. "I cannot help swearing," says one, "when I am hurt." You are in bondage, then, to pain, which looses the tongue to profanity. '' I cannot be happy," says an- other, "I suffer so much." The real ques- tion in such a case is whether we will be in servitude to pain, and allow it to destroy the serviceableness of our lives. Shall it lead us ^recbom of tf?e Sons of (5ob. 189 to a fault-finding temper ? shall it drive us habitually to an anaesthetic on slight occa- sion ? shall it fill our hearts with the bitterness of death, and turn our faces away from God ? Then indeed the ministry of pain has be- come a slavery to sin. For the mastery of one's self is freedom ; and he who is mas- tered by the anguish of suffering, is not master of himself Only for the sick is such slavery permissible. For all who are short of absolute invalidism the mastery of the feelings of the body is the freedom of life. Indeed, I have known some so to school themselves to the endurance of their ills and weaknesses of the flesh that they endured hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ unto the end, the discipline of health answering most admirably every adversity until death. And did not they show themselves free in- deed, and servants of the King.? In the "Memorabilia" we find this matter discussed. Socrates asks : " Therefore who- ever is ruled by the pleasures of the body, and because of these is not able to practice the best things, think you this one is free .? — Least of all," he replied. Again Socrates asks, ''Just as doing the best things appears free to thee, so to have those who are pre- 190 Iceu) Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. vented doing such things do you think is slavish ? — Altogether so," he answered. I have quoted this to show the argument of Christ, that they who do right are free and they who do wrong are in bondage, is one which He shares for substance with Socrates. Granted that Socrates did not have the spiritual insight of Christ or His moral power, yet these desires of the body, so far as we can enter into understanding of the language of his time, are always con- trasted with the things of the spirit, that is, the intellectual nature. This question of human freedom and human slavery under sin, this pulpit desires to argue out this morning a little further. The Christian recognizes obligation in Christ's service. Paul called himself the bond- servant of Jesus Christ. Wherein, then, does its freedom lie ? We answer that it is a service of love and a life of conviction, in other words, a life of obedience. There is, moreover, freedom of choice toward evil, as between it and the good. But evil choices, followed, result in foregone conclusions, in desires unresisted after the habit has been formed, in aimless blundering into trans- gression after transgression. Wrong-doing ^reebom of tf^e Sons of ^06. 191 usurps the whole life and the whole man. In right living there is knowledge of good and evil. Good men refuse to choose evil, not because they do not know it, but because they spurn it. Do evil men refuse to do good because they know what it is, and being well-informed in regard to it, reject it as the lesser good ? What knowledge have the great majority of evilly disposed men of what is really good ? Certainly there are comparatively few who really know what it is to do good, who fall away from right- eous living. Our older theology held it to be impossible to fall from grace, and I am inclined to think it was right. As a matter of fact, the evilly disposed are never safe ; settled down to one order of life, you can never tell how soon a new influence may draw them away to new paths. Why do fathers and mothers watch with such eager- ness the young manhood of their sons and the young womanhood of their daughters, except they are aware a wrongly directed life will leave, with pleasure, another name for likings, at the helm, the flapping sail to any breeze ? I wish this were all that needed to be said, but, alas ! it is not. We have not drawn the 192 Hem Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. full picture of human bondage to sin. We have drawn some sketch of the bondage of sin where sin is vice. The bondage of the individual conscience yet remains. It is remarkable that the conscience can be en- slaved by one's prejudices. For this rea- son some people can never do anything right because we never will grant that any- thing they do is right. Conscience knows such a course is wrong, but the sin of selfish- ness hath enslaved it. Then, too, there is a wrong moral perspective, the minor moral cause being unduly magnified and left to outweigh the mightier cause, and men are led to support the wicked thing, sin reigning in them and accomplishing its purposes of enslavement by using the lesser good to accomplish the greater. This is a true diag- nosis of much sinning of every degree. Whether we down righteousness by expe- diency, or whether the Jesuit, for love of Christ, sanctifies unrighteous means, or the Indian thug makes the victim of his assas- sination an offering to Shiva the destroyer, it is all the same ; it is the satisfaction of the moral nature with an object to result in its eternal enslavement to transgression. There results a moral complacency or satis- ^reebom of tE^e Sons of ^ob. 193 faction with the condition of the slave ; then men can afford to scoff at moral issues, and rest satisfied with the reign of error in the community, for it is like their own moral state. Most singular is the conscience, for while it can be mastered for substance yet never wholly. As the German tribes never were conquered by the Roman legions, so we may term this the Gothic part of the kingdom of man-soul. The conscience money often re- stored, and the wishes that you and I have that we could make some wrongs right for which money cannot atone, the sudden start of guilty men when they see the face remind- ing them of their transgression, and the con- fession of undiscovered sin sometimes as damning as murder, confession of which is indeed dangerous, are cases in point. Some men with reminder, some men without re- minder, are each after all the slaves of fear which is born of sin. To have one's waking moments never secure from the dagger of one's conscience, or to put the face in post- ure as a kind of shield against the world to save us from the moral death that would follow on exposure, as Bismarck, or Tito Melema, put on armor and so saved himself 194 Iten? Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. from the dagger of the assassin, all this bespeaks slavery to a mastery ignoble and debasing. And the heart, how timid it is, how cringing before its master, that a stray shot from the bow of memory should set it straight a-quaking and ready to yield itself to horrors, perchance to death. That all men who profess faith in Christ and do not yield full devotion, reap accord- ing as they sow, and find partial deliver- ance and somewhat of hope, is but right. But those who make God their whole por- tion, like Cardinal Manning or like Living- stone and Gordon, like every saintly person on earth, find in saintliness a true freedom, with its bracing of the nerves and its buoy- ant life without fear. Said the Master, ** If therefore the Son shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed." THE POWER OF HABIT. " I beseech you therefore, brethren^ by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a lining sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.'''' — Rom. 12:1. AT the beginning of an essay on '' Cus- tom and Education," Lord Bacon says : "Men's thoughts are much according to their inclination ; their discourse and speeches ac- cording to their learning and infused opin- ions ; but their deeds are — as they have been accustomed." Education therefore is midway between the lawlessness of man's nature, which acts because it must, and the formal acts of man in society and forming a part thereof. This is a superficial definition ; habit is deeper than the external man. Thinking has habits as well as doing, saying as well as acting. All thinking seems an as- sociation of ideas, so that habit has its place in all thought. We have power to form an idea, but in calling it up we associate it with something else. We recall words by think- ing of the man that said them. We fix a date by something else that happened at the same (195) 196 Xlzw Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. time. We recall a face through the form, clothing, and speech, and the incident through another associated thing. Language shows this same. The word thing, for instance, is the Anglo-Saxon thingafiy ** to become heavy," hence it is any- thing material, and so often means any sepa- rable or distinguishable object of thought. By association of ideas this word has arisen. Likewise by association with it as an organic part of speech, it has power in language. That is, we use words according to certain well-defined senses established by the usages of society. The custom of society determines our vocabulary, for most part. Doing, say- ing, thinking, are all words expressive of conceptions formed of things habitually done, habit being an important factor therein. Verily, man is a creature of habit. It is not strange, therefore, that in moral things man has need of this same discipline of habit, which he has in every other depart- ment of his life. For this end alone, has society protected itself by innumerable laws, unwritten indeed, but all the same laws of moral power, each one a breakwater protect- ing the precious silver-laden argosies of the soul. It is easier to break the written law Cf?e pomer of V}ah\l 197 than that moral law sustained by the senti- ment of a multitude. A written law is a very- strawy affair, without the moral support of public sentiment. The king's officers found it so when they went to cut the masts re- served in the New England forests for the royal navy. Sumptuary laws prove it so when the local sentiment does not conform to the laws enacted by the legislatures of their respective commonwealths. Indeed, our whole system of government, like all democracies, is simply an endeavor to put the written law in touch with popular senti- ment, that there may be less mobs in arms against government and more real effort made to benefit the masses. That public sentiment, therefore, which is mightier than the rule of kings, and without which the strongest legal finding is but weak as the paper on which it is written, however lofty the court that grants it, may well challenge the respect of you and me, however reluctant we may be to listen to its best judgment on moral and social questions, especially in so far as it has sought to advance righteousness in the hearts of all the people. But it is notice- able that those who deny legislative law, also deny the moral sentiments of mankind. They 1 ^^ Xlcw Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. who break one kind of law break both kinds ; they are a law unto themselves. What they hate and condemn is restraint. Good habits have two special functions : First, they conserve natural endowment, making capacity tell in some given direction. A dozen colts in pasture, racing about from one end to the other, having sure habits indeed of a wild, roving sort, so that predic- tion may be made about them, such as, here they will come for water, and there for grass, when trained by habit to harness, will pull loads, or draw batteries, or proudly lead into battle cohorts of cavalry, each one as perfectly trained as the rider upon his back. Similarly, men are like a gregarious herd beating about for food, the satisfactions of thirst, and for companionship until the trained man shall supercede the untamed, and regularity of toil, either with head or hand, shall conserve the energy of life, and make productive the fallow lands of creaturehood. So in moral things there is a conservation of energy. Every one that is a student be- comes more and more conscious, as he pur- sues a literary or professional life, that there is a limit to human capacity. A man can CI?e pott?er of £)abit. 199 work so many hours, and can become so exhausted with bodily toil that he can labor no longer ; similarly, those who use their brains in any calling find they have their intellectual capacity, which they may de- velop, and which, when dissipated, their all is gone. That same capacity untrained can amount to but little. It is a conservation of that energy which, instead of being dissipated aimlessly, shall be turned into some channel where its output shall count. Here I am with this plant in the world ; it has a capac- ity for physical labor. I must exercise that in some way. The body is the basis of the intellectual life. I can so avoid the develop- ment of my body that I cannot half think. Undoubtedly all of us who do not perform manual labor in our callings err in having no thought of exercise and physical development of our bodies. The thought-power has rela- tions to the nervous system the physical basis of thought, and that system, is simi- larly dependent upon the rest of the body, upon which depends the exercise of its functions. The pale invalid stretched on a bed of languor, from which he cares not to limp out-of-doors by day and on which he can- 200 HctD (Eoncepts of £)Ib Dogmas. not sleep at night, near by being the elec- tric light, which he can turn on at will through a button, and reaching out for the books heaped about him, beguiling himself from thought of his own deplorable con- dition to which he has been brought by forced and precocious intellectual develop- ment, is a fine illustration of how needful it is that habits of health be given the body, conserving the powers of the whole man. How much better it is, in the long run, to have a strong body with a stupid intellect, than a strong intellect stupefied, in the moiety at least, by the sickly incompetence of the body consequent upon its deterioration through the neglect to conserve it by healthful bodily habits. That the schools see this now and make provision for the health of pupils in providing proper training, is one of the best signs in our times. But granted a healthy mind and a sound body, the fact must not be lost sight of that the mind can do only so much and no more. Under too great a load of intellectual activi- ties the giant Spurgeon has recently suc- cumbed at fifty-seven. The mind is stricken down as under the blows of an enemy ; all the material for the maintenance of life has C{?e poit)er of ^ahxt 201 been burned up by the torch of knowledge. It is the opinion of experts that the human body can do as much in eight hours as in ten, which, if true, will inevitably shorten the hours of labor. The human mind can un- doubtedly force itself as much as the body, possibly more so. But it, too, has its limits. Burn the torch twelve hours a day, and it will last thirty years ; burn it eight hours, and it will last fifty years. Make your hab- its, therefore, that they shall conserve the maintenance of life, and give the greatest possible output to labor. Do not, however, lose sight of the fact that in a given period which will fully exhaust the nervous powers of the body, only so much can be done, and nothing more. En- ergy once expended under these circum- stances is forever spent. If you give up your time to novel reading until the brain reels, there is nothing left for science or art or knowledge of any kind. The vis viva of the mind is gone ; you can put nothing in mo- tion. The molecules of the brain may act, but they cannot produce thought. You read the page, but cannot remember a line. As you can put only so much in, it behooves you to be careful what you put in. 202 Hem Concepts of £>{b Do^jmas. These two truths I desire to apply to total abstinence. Use alcohol habitually, and you merely interfere with the normal running processes of the body. You burn up a little more fiber, nature's reserve for exigencies, exposing yourself to premature death from disease. You burn up what you need, what you cannot replace by any assistance of modern medicine. For a given output of thought you are paying an unnecessary per cent. And when we turn to the sociability of the saloon and the life of the inordinate drinker, the case truly becomes bad. What- ever may be the delights of intoxication, or the pleasures of those peculiar saloon friend- ships of which we hear so much, they are simply an expenditure of energy in foolish and useless fashion. The radiancy of the illumination of the mind is, however one may strive to conceal it, a burning out of the torch of nature, and a wasting of ener- gies which might have been diverted to noble purposes. See that dullard who, hulking about in all weathers, lives a hermit in squalor and lone- some solitariness. His education is noth- ing, and his natural power was wasted ; pure laziness stunts and spends the whole endow- C^c pomcr of ^abtt. 203 ment, and you despise him. But how about that other, resting his elbows on saloon counters, who has succeeded in life, using opportunities and achieving, but squandering in prodigality the precious endowments of God, chasing the mirages of the intoxicated imagination over every moor until the way is lost and every opportunity is gone, until heaven is obscured under the mists, and the Star of Bethlehem no more gives bearings for pilotage, and God, as he speaks through the moral law in the conscience, is heard no more, and the better nature does not sleep, but the rather dies a slow, lingering, but perfect death ? And yet we hesitate to ab- stain for the sake of the weak. Secondly, good habits not only conserve capacity, but they also enlarge and broaden it. In a trip to Escanaba I did not see a single harbor on the west side Lake Michigan which was not built by double rows of piles. So good habits open a path over the shallows of the soul, and bring a new commerce over the waters. Hence it is the man becomes great and strong ; he has conserved and en- larged himself. The day of genius is past ; its heroes are rapidly being forgotten. It is the Michael 204 Hctt) Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. Angelos, who by hard work achieve their place, winning immortal honors. This has been accepted ever since Wellington over- came the erratic Bonaparte at Waterloo by vulgar hard pounding which wore out sixty thousand fighters, but wound up for- ever, let us hope, among modern men the notion that any gift of birth can keep pace with the increment which may be added to a bright mind as it shall develop under the power of habit. Bacon quotes Machiavelli where he says, "There is no trusting to the force of nature, nor to the boastfulness of words, except it be corroborated by custom." This is truth ; many men promise reform, few men follow it out to the end. The habit of the person will alone tell us what his word is worth. You would not take the promise of a man whom you knew to be habitually un- truthful, because you count his habit stronger than his promise. It is easier to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear than to make any- thing out of him who has no habits you can trust. He who habitually does his duty is the man who rises to opportunities, and who is equal thereto. Coolness and audacity made Grant what he was ; thoroughness was the characteristic of George H. Thomas ; de- CI?e porper of ^abtt. 205 votion to the will of God furnishes the key to the character of the great Spurgeon, now, alas ! no more, and doing one's duty, to that of Gordon, Livingstone, and Mackay. Now, what interferes with all habit but this, the irrationality of appetite and the whim of desire ? Ten thousand million wills have been broken down the past century by drink. I do not care about the pro- cess, whether they began as moderate drink- ers or not. Sufficient for me is it, to know that they have been mastered who had other- wise mastered themselves. On the altar of this Moloch have been sacrificed thou- sands of millions of good intentions, dear, sweet, good intentions, as nice to look upon as red apples in God's country across the mountains of Oregon, to which the Cali- fornia miners turned with longing eyes. But without good habits they can be easily shaken off by the slightest wind of appetite, as the Early Rose and the Summer Harvest grafts, high up in the old-fashioned apple- trees in the East, when fully ripened, were shaken down by the earliest zephyrs of the morning, and so, lying toothsome upon the dewy grass, were soon in a swine's snout. A great painter typified gluttony by painting 206 Hert) (Concepts of £)I6 Dogmas. under it a figure in despair trying to fight its way upward over a cloud fashioned like a swine's head. Fit symbol that for the stimu- lated appetite that rules in the person given over to the beastiality of drunkenness ! In the words of the apostle, ** I beseech you, therefore, brethren, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service," which, as we interpret it, in these days of the riot of appetite, means, '' Live total ab- stinence lives." HONEST SELF-DENIAL. '* But insomuch as ye are partakers of ChrisVs sufferings, rejoice.^' — / Peter 4 : ij. WE cannot enter into Christ's passion by- thrusting ourselves into suffering as a means of purchasing the divine favor. It is glorious to suffer, if one must, to preserve some righteousness or to save some good cause. This premise should be prefixed to everything we may say on self-denial, as the soul loves false weights and measures, and is often as eager for them as dishonest traders for false balances. The one thing on which self-denial de- pends is love, like the love of Christ, that flowered aright in silver blossoms, which re- tain their beauty through the far-spent ages. He that loveth much doeth much ; he that loveth little doeth little ; he that loveth naught doeth naught. So thou canst easily put thyself where thou belongest. Didst thou ever do it, and find the teaching of God's book of life in thine own heart .-* Thus self-denial may be thy condemner, and give (207) 208 Xlzvo Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. thee a moment's dissatisfaction ; and so it shall be always to us all. But we may make self-denial our coadjutor, helper, friend. For comradeship and fellowship with this mystic one, if thou art candidate, a few simple rules I give thee for thy novitiate, that thou mayest come as men of old came to the Pythagorean mysteries in which thou art to walk in white with the chosen ones of purest counsels, and together with them learn the deep mysteries of the hidden life. Three sim- ple rules are presented as guiding thoughts concerning that way. Self-denial demands sacrifice ; yes, indeed, but note well, a sacri- fice on your part ; I give thee, therefore, the first rule : — All true self-sacrifice is a sacrifice of your- self and not of some one else, and further- more, a sacrifice, of yourself alone, and not of yourself plus some one else. This may not commend itself to your judg- ment, but let us see. A layman marries a wife, changes his mind as to his calling in life, and drags her unwillingly into the self-denial of a home missionary field. This he has no moral right to do. He has a right to sacrifice himself and no one else. Or a person puts himself in such a place ^onest Sclf=6ental. 209 that his children do not have suitable op- portunities in life. The man has done well by himself, but he has not remembered others in his plan of life. Or he may un- wisely plan his great philanthropy, and bring- it to naught, causing the useless benevolence of those who heard his call, but have been sorry ever since that they gave heed, and tried to help him out. It is this view of the case which has led the preacher to feel that celibacy would be a powerful adjunct in mis- sionary operations ; not an enforced celibacy, but one which is essential to true self-denial, which would sacrifice itself and no one else. The bitterness of spirit in some hearts, owing to the self-denial to which they have been unwillingly forced to become parties, has made me feel most keenly that good men and women must needs be more careful, not how they sacrifice themselves, but how they sacrifice something themselves, while they throw the weight of their burden of love for the sake of which they hope to shine in heaven on other people's shoulders, as if good service in the kingdom of God con- sisted in large measure of a person's success in dragging others in and attaching them'to the car of the Lord, and compelling them 210 Hert) Concepts of £)I6 Dogmas, to drag it through weary years, whether they will or no. Self-sacrifice should not be selfish sacrifice. This false self-sacrifice has been parodied in the world. If it were not the preacher's set- tled conviction that a laugh in church serv- ice has no moral value, he would illustrate it by a story. But this much needs to be said, that this kind of false heroics, the jest of the street, deserves to be pilloried in the house of God, and given the brand of Cain as sign of its eternal shame. Self-denial which entails sacrifice upon others and in no wise upon ourselves, is well illustrated in some forms of pious good ad- vice. College presidents advise boys to go as missionaries ; why do they not go them- selves ? City preachers advise men to self- sacrifice in humble parishes. The rich invite the poor to large self-denials, while they do not invite themselves to a single cup of coffee less. We advise forgiveness, but our- selves nourish wrath on slight occasion. It seems as if a person washed waifs on con- tract, at a cheap lodging house in the city, and sudsed them well, regardless of eyes and mouth, but neglected his own person, carefully rubbing off the soap dry which ^onest 5cIf=6emaL 211 had come upon his own hands and refusing the application of water. For to tell the truth it is only the filthy imaginings of a vain mind that despises the purifications of self-sacrifice. This whole style of life is con- temptible. It is pious cant, which covers not a multitude of sins but a horde of lies, part of which we tell ourselves, and part of which we tell other people. All of this self-deceit is due to wrong conceptions of self-denial, as a thing the sham appearance of which is very blessed ; whereas the only bless- ing is in the heart, which is always alloyed by even the consciousness that the deed is a thing of common fame, the credit thereof becoming an arousement of pride and the temptation to a sham life of hypocrisy, var- nished over with pretentious acts and words of self-denial which cost nothing and hence are a good stock in trade, if that sort of stock is the kind desired. The second rule of self-sacrifice is as fol- lows : Sacrifice all you want to, except your better self. Some people think that in religion they have no self; which is unfortunately not true. This self undoubtedly has duties ; it has also rights which cannot be denied with- 212 Hen? Concepts of £>lb Dogmas. out loss of power and function on the nobler side of life. This is easily illustrated. In the old church many a man went into a monastery and became a Benedictine monk, and spent his time tilling the land, which meant something for civilization, though but little to himself After years of devotion to religion and the church he was a piece of a man. It is all very well at first blush for ministers to say nothing that remotely bears on moral questions, for fear some one will take offense, but when after a course of years the individual has lost the use of his moral powers of stamina, you find that there is only the fraction of a man in the pulpit. When a person cannot read the daily papers without sin, as I used to hear some say out East, and who therefore despised all knowledge of cur- rent events as" sinful, they had a wrong kind of religion, because it militated against the perfect, noble, fully developed, all-round man- manhood and womanhood, which it is the right of every believer to possess. Christianity was not meant to be a limita- tion on individual advancement. Great bur- dens of self-sacrifice which dwarf the man should be undertaken solely when the person is fully convinced that the sacrifices involved ^omst Self^bental. 213 are justified in view of what he can accom- plish ; that is, whether loss in one direction may not be made up by gain in another. There is, of course, the familiar considera- tion of the advantage gained by the special- ist in the branch to which he gives attention, in consequence of which much must be lost in the broader range of things. We see the same thing in all life. Agassiz could tell by a bone the character of the fish to which it belonged, and this was re- markably verified by subsequent discovery, but he knew little besides natural science. So in religion, one man cannot do every- thing, he must specialize, and with the gain there must be the loss. Next to murder, suicide is ranked as mortal sin, that is, next to murder of another is the murder of self So it seems, next to the sacrifice of others is the sacrifice of one's self in moral things ; the first is cowardly, the second is foolish. Does that seem hard } It is true, whether hard or not. Who doubts that the millions of monks have squandered their better selves under vows, and well-kept vows often, of the utmost self-abnegation. Protestantism, too, has made similar mis- take, though not with such awful conse- 214 Hem Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. quences. ' We, too, have taught that the motive behind the act alone sanctifies that act. Thus have we glorified stupidity on the one hand, and stricken the Lord's cause on the other, for a round man in a square hole cannot glorify God as he ought. Wit- ness in the many and many a minister who is confident that the Lord called him into his work, and the unanimous, or all but unanimous, conviction of every one else that God called some one else, and he answered. Now we make bold to say that in spoiling a good business man to make a preacher who is utterly incapable of being useful, is strange way of making self-denial tell for righteousness. There is on Somerset street, Boston, a fine brick building belonging to the theological department of Boston University ; it is called Jacob Sleeper Hall, after the donor. Jacob Sleeper, when a young man, was a student for the ministry in the Methodist Church, but his eyes failed him, and he gave his at- tention to business. He was very successful, and became a millionaire, but he did not lose his early bent. He was the Nestor of all Methodist enterprises in New England, par- ticularly of the Boston University, and sup- ^onest Self^bental. 215 ported eight or ten ministers all the time himself, each one of whom doubtless did more good than Jacob Sleeper himself could possibly have done if he had gone into the ministry, and had given his life to what would, on the face of it, seem a more self- denying experience. This man was provi- dentially stayed in his mad career. God, however, I am persuaded, would have us stay ourselves by fully counting the cost. For this purpose I bid you sacrifice all except your better self Remember that a gift for one thing is sacrificed, if, destroying it, you persist in turning to something to which you are not adapted. Remember the endowment of your nature is a gift of God, especial and holy, and at first hand from the Lord and Giver of life. The third rule of self-sacrifice is : Check- mate evil thoughts with antidotes. " I will not think this thing," amounts to but little, in the ordinary experience of temptation. To make that will against evil thoughts powerful, you must give it the panacea of something else to think about, which shall be free of association with the wicked thought. Prayer, a scripture pas- sage, a verse from a Christian poet, has often 216 Xtetp Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. been the salvation of a person from his bad thoughts. A good book is a power in help- ing men and women over the frictions of every-day life. As married people settle down, they find a life which for most stretches away from them like the great plains of the river systems in the West, seemingly flat as a floor, above which there is a brilliant sunshine falling upon a beauti- ful verdure, but replaced now and then by clouds and storm. The monotony of that level life will be broken, if one can but call in the wizards of the imagination, and through poetry and prose read silently or aloud ; 'new vistas are disclosed, as when the ravine by the water-courses opens up to one on the river heights, and the eye sees again a diversified landscape, with the early autumnal tints .painting all with the colors of a divine artist. So we may find antidote against the corroding cares of daily life. We sometimes fawn upon others ; believe me, we fawn too often upon our baser selves. And by sentimentality, as if personal pleas- ure must always have a whole hide, we foster the same spirit in others. Why, poor man, he is struggling with his appetite ; poor fel- low, how helpless he is ; let all men pity and fjonest Self^bental. 217 wring their hands ! Now I suggest that he play the man. Penitents in monasteries lash themselves for their evil thoughts. If any man would free himself from appetite, let him similarly persuade himself that his appe- tite is not too good to be trampled upon as a hated thing ; then let him buy in some leather store a knout such as is used in Russia without stint upon the backs of free- men who as much as dare to criticise the Czar's officers ; and when the glamour of the senses is arising which will soon shut out the light of day from the moral universe of that microcosm, let him bare his shoulders and whip himself, and believe me, praying God to nerve his arm, he will soon, holding this form of self-denial firmly before him, monas- tic though it is, be able through self-denial to trample his destroyer under foot. This may seem severe, but no man who longs for the mastery of himself through the help which Christ can give has a right to say that he really wants to be free until he can go to this degree of self-denial in hatred of his own pleasure and in determination to master him- self through an antidote of suffering. More- over it seems to the preacher that the person who thus through prayer and suffering comes 218 ITeu) Concepts of £)15 Dogmas. back to mastery of himself and to peace with God, doth partake of the sufferings of Christ in the redemption of humanity as no world- ling can who curls his legs under his chair, and eaten up by his comforts in life, sighs over the redemption of humanity at such tremendous cost, and perchance sheds a few briny tears. Such a life of self-denial doth by its suffering join on to the sufferings of the ** Son of man who was the Son of God." Every one of us needs to deny ourselves to the quick, that we may enter into the pas- sion of the Lord Jesus Christ. IGNORANCE IN MORAL CHARACTER. *' Let us hold fast our confession. For we have not a High Priest that cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities ; but one that hath been in all points tempted like as ive are, yet without sin^ — Heb. /f. : 75". HERE stands a murderer at the bar ; why a craning of necks to see him ? why the moral sentence which condemns him ? except it be that public sentiment scorns him for the sensations which he has made his own, and which have left indelible impress on his character. Men in armies are enlisted that they may kill when need comes, else their service were a sham. But we are told that no man likes to say he killed another, and that when a person is known to have done such an act, especially in a wanton manner, he is a marked person among his fel- lows, and is disliked and shunned by them, because of knowledge which each esteems a blemish upon moral character. The glory of arms is not in the death one deals, so (219) 220 Xlcvo Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. much as the death one faces ; it is the glo- rious unflinching in face of mortal peril, and not an envenomed temper. We love to say our brave are magnanimous for this reason, and to lay stress upon every noblest thing about them. We would have our soldier ignorant of much of what dastards boast ; even courage and the glories of valor pale under certain circumstances. We expect, then, knowledge and ignorance to be side by side, and reckon the strength of one in pro- portion with the lack of the other. There is a gamut of experience here, but no half-tones ; each note must be clear, with no quaver ; it is not a study of harmonies, but the note of nature. Art has nothing to do with character ; it is be, and be not ; act, and refuse to act ; it is quality, and absence of quality. Christ, we say, was without sin. This is more than a Christian dogma ; we esteem it a Christian fact. It is one of the things which we would stand for against all comers, and without recourse. But if Christ was without sin, it was a personality which lacked the experience of that sinning which is a factor in human life. Yet we say that Christ knew the depth of human weakness. ^g,nova\\c^ in literal C^racter. 221 and lived among men that He might be the perfect Saviour of sinners. These two facts thus held indicate that the ignorance of the God-man's spirit and His appreciation of human need are not contradictory terms, and that there was nothing essential in sin as sin to His earthly ministry. Moreover, it does not seem too much to say that the strength of His character, the uniqueness and beauty of His life, depend upon that ignorance of the Christ in large degree. Jupiter, the head of the Graeco-Roman deities, had his mar- riages, amours, hates, quarrels, petulancies, and personal spites ; Jesus, our Christ, had nothing of the sort in His life on earth or in His heavenly nature. The uniqueness, there- fore, of the Christian Deity in good measure resides in His ignorance. But the ignorance of Christ was more than absence of knowl- edge ; it is really equivalent to knowledge ignored, innocency prized. Christ's life was not one which led Him apart from transgres- sion ; for He lived on an earth defiled, con- taminated, and corrupted by sin ; in a moral atmosphere reeking with it, in a human so- ciety perverted by it, with a human heart open as no other animal organism was to it. But with these surroundings, the blessed Son 222 ttert) Concepts of £)I5 Dogmas. of Mary despised it. His ignorance, there- fore, was an ignoring of it all. In other words, it was an ignorance born of resolu- tion. On this hung the sinlessness of the Christ during His earthly ministry, and the loss of it would have been the loss of His function as Saviour, and His capacity to execute the will of God foreordained in the councils of heaven, when the Lamb without spot was slain before the foundation of the world. To the question, "What is the difference between Christ and Mohammed, or between Christ and Confucius, or between Christ and Buddha?" we give answer of course. That which must exist between man and the God- man ; but to sum it up in an analogy, we say it is the difference between knowledge of transgression and transgression ignored. It is not what we are thrown into that determines our life. Of course there is the circumstance of birth and environment which determines in the rough careers ; but that once settled and a life in a civilized land granted, and the position of the individual being determined so far as the theater of events is concerned, the place of the person amid his surroundings will be fixed by what 3$norance in ^Horal Cl?aracter. 223 he ignores in the life which he leads. That editor who was congratulated upon the high character which his paper maintained, said in reply that it was not so much what he printed as what he refused to print, that had made his paper what it was. This shows the course of our argument. So in our lives ; what we avoid will accurately determine our life, and the force of virtuous living consid- ered as output from the motive of the human heart resides in what we will not do. For doing, freely assented to, is a pleasure, and what we do for our own sake is not that thing which gives determinative force to careers. The real virtue of living must arise from what we do that is hard and disagreeable, because it is our duty, which we are not often called upon to perform, and in abstaining from doing what we know to be wrong, which is a con- stant quantity in our living. The book-makers on our racing tracks are but the machinery of a large element in the life of our time, which finds the sensations of gambling, accentuated by the uncertainties and struggles of the racing turf, of greatest possible pleasure. Aside from those who fol- low the turf, for the money there is in it, is a large class of persons who follow it for pleas- 224 Hem Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. ure. Much depends upon horse and man, the position assigned, the accidents, the skill of the driver, the condition of the beast. And when the interest, which each person must feel when he is only an observer, is heightened by the stake in money which he puts up, there results a full tide of excited enthusi- asm, with its alternation of hopes and fears, which is a pleasurable sensation, attempts to realize which are known as the gambling mania. But I noticed in Prof Waldstein's article, " The Finding of the Tomb of Aris- totle," the following statement apropos his work last year in Eretria : *' However full of moments of thrilling excitement — mo- ments that in their intensity have no equal in any other department of scientific work or sport — the practice of excavation may be, there are days and even weeks of dis- couraging ill success, which sorely try the patience of even the most sanguine and persevering." That is to say, there is an excited enthusiasm in archaeology which is comparable with similar sensations on the turf, so that a man may stand as breathless watching the digging out of a grave 2000 years old, as following the plunges of the fa- vorite horse on which he has staked a purse. 39norance in 21Toral (£f?aractcr. 225 It is obvious that the excitements of the turf are poor preparations for the business of living. He who craves sensations of this sort, and satisfying himself therewith is con- tent, will not usually be turned to the enthu- siasms of His calling and to the sensations of its triumphs. But says some one, "You are confusing business and pleasure." That may be, but the success of each life will after all depend upon its pleasures. There is hardly a business man but would prefer a young person in his employ should be ignorant of the ways of the course, of the slang of the jockey, and the morals of the plunger. Moral health seems to depend upon decisions in such questions. The good man is not he that knoweth everything that the world knoweth, but rather he who ignores much which that worldling prizeth. This is the reason why our homes are so blest in all their relations of life ; namely, because there is one place in the world where what is worst is shut out and where souls may live in ignorance of the vice, sin, misery, and wickedness of earth. This ex- plains why it is that the loss of a good home to which the memory may turn, is like the misery of the damned. Parents watch their 15 226 txetr> Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. children with anxiety and care as they pass from youth to manhood, solicitous that they may on the one hand be ignorant of the worst that is in the world, and on the other, that, thrown in contact with the evil of the world, they may ignore it, and keep their hearts and minds in the love of God. For to know not evil is not enough, but ignorant ; to ignore it, and to refuse its impression on the soul, this is the way to walk with those who make this life a pilgrimage, and not a fatality, and whose lips are laden with the songs of heavenly love. Here comes in a criticism of the modern college. Three or four hundred men are severed from the restraints of home, and, in- cited by the sociability of friendship to mild dissipations, are left to find out what the world is. There results a kind of student ruffianism, with its drinking bouts, its fires at night on the campus, its gambling in a small way, and the formation of a convivial set often prominent at the first few reunions after graduation. Then, too, there is that queer thing known as college sentiment, which often interferes with the moral law, such as cheating through examinations or stealing small things as mementoes, whether it be 33norance in IHoral (£I?aracter. 227 sign boards, or conductor's lanterns, or hotel ink-stands, or curtain-fixtures, or what not. Now the preacher is free to say that he ap- preciates the advantages and uses of an educa- tion, but why is it necessary to get it in any such way ? College men are peculiarly in- fluenced by this idea of seeing what is in the world. It is a mistake. Knowledge is power, that is, of books and facts and men, not knowledge of vice and of the basest dissi- pations. I would pray God to bring into my life no new factors of sin and temptation, that my knowledge may not be so freighted with evil that knowledge itself will become a doubtful boon. Say : shall a man choose his house or his horse or his friend, and by that act of choice in each instance refuse at a glance one or more which he does not want, but in moral things wallow through the mire of the world's wickedness in order to know what he does not desire ? It would be as reasonable to go through filthy tenements when looking for a home, or to ride after spavined horses and have one or two die of heaves on the street, when one wanted a family horse, as to wade through the abysmal swinishness of some vicious men to find out whether you desire 228 Heu? Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. them for boon companions, or to harbor every wicked thought to see whether that is the kind you will foster. I fear that if we should spend our time in the squalor of the wretched homes of the poor, we should not love the green grass. This is the reason that you drive your carriage through the best streets of the city. That is the reason why philanthropy is such a terrible thing to un- dertake, — because the odor of filth does not leave you when you come to your own table ; and the grime of the place some way, linger- ing on your eyeballs, blurs the beauty of the sunshine, so that only as men love good will they leave heights and go down among the poor. I fear, too, that if you study defective horses, every horse will be alike to you, and you will lose your concept of a perfect horse. So in the domain of holiness and morals ; contaminate yourself by knowing what sin is before you know holiness in its best estate, and you cannot know that holiness when you meet it face to face. For sin is like the basilisk of mythology, which poisons a man by its breath, if perchance he shall come so near. The spotlessness of Mary's Son is the spotlessness for humanity. Therefore know as little of the bad as you can ; poison not in- '^qnovancz in Ittoral (£f?aracter. 229 telligence by transgression. Surround thy- self with the good ; ennoble and elevate thy thoughts. Seek not multiplicity of sensations ; choose thy lot. It were better that the eye should be burned out by the strategy of an enemy, than with two eyes to be compelled to see all the world's misery, the full depths of its shame, the awfulness of its crime. For ears that are closed hear not the whisperings of the tempter ; and though we pity the deaf be- cause they do not hear at all, yet all is not lost, and there is contentment in looking at the stars all the deeper and sweeter if one does not hear the dog baying at the moon. It will be the noblest of lives when one can say, " Innocence passed me, and I prepared its way. Goodness was my guest, and I sent him forth unsullied. Love I knew, and re- turned unselfishly. Loathsome Envy, hate- ful Untruth, gluttonous Appetite, snarling Malice I saw, but passed by." There is a bale of vices some men carry on their backs to the very edge of the grave. They represent their cast-off vices, which have served them in their day, and which they love. They hope the same grave will cover them both. But Innocency has no lug- gage to weight her down. There are no 230 Hem Concepts of £^I6 Pocstnas. scales on her eyes ; she can view the heavenly gates, and bear the rays of celestial light. No grave is welcome to her spirit ; the light of life is in her azure eyes, and the aureole of life is about her head. THE PATIENCE OF CHRIST. ^^ Likewise also the chief priests mocking Him with the scribes and elders said. He saved others, Himself He cannot save.'' — Matt. 27 : 41, 42. THE last part of the collect for the Sunday next before Easter reads, '' Mercifully grant that we may both follow the example of His patience, and also be made partakers of His resurrection, through the same Jesus Christ our Lord." Apprehension and recog- nition of the patience of our Lord breathes through, and finds admirable statement in, our text. Patience is not resignation ; we are re- signed in submission to another because it is his will ; we are patient with our fate because it is our will. Christ was resigned, and showed it in Gethsemane ; Christ was patient, and showed it all through passion week in His mar- velous self-control. We magnify and try to ap- preciate this day the patience of Jesus Christ. Patience could overleap its bounds, but will not. Resignation sits with folded hands and awaits death. It is a blessed sight, that of resignation when the life nears its close, and (231) 232 View doncepts of £)16 Dogmas. the task is ended. How sweet to see age thus sit with folded hands, submissive, and giving to every beholder the sense of its own quietude ! But patience suffers that it may- achieve ; the patient persevere. This is the most glorious trait of men of Anglo-Saxon blood. In the great storm at Samoa, the English steamer " Calliope," to escape from the harbor must needs pass between the American ship "Trenton" and the reef upon which she was drifting. Four hundred stalwart American seamen face to face with death, witnessing the skillful seamanship of Captain Kane and the courage of the effort, gave three mighty cheers for the English vessel. A London paper said it was '* the expression of an immortal courage. It was distressed man- hood greeting ^ triumphant manhood, the doomed saluting the saved." Yes, and it was one thing more, the tribute of patience to patience, of patience in defeat saluting patience in victory. It is not strange, there- fore, that the Anglo-Saxon race should be most impressed with the patience of Christ. We call it His .manliness. It was patience under persecution which led our fathers into the wilderness, forsaking the comforts of CI}c patience of Cl?nst. 233 civilization ; it explains why the plantation at Jamestown failed, while the plantation at Plymouth lived. I notice that the patience of Christ was of the most elevated type. In human life there are two consummate acts of destiny, the en- vironment into which we are born, and the hour and circumstances of our death. At the birth of Christ we do not think of the Godhead as hushed at the instant of the in- carnation, but rather of an awestruck earth receiving the Prince of Peace. On the other hand, we can but believe that at the cruci- fixion, heaven and its hosts hung upon the minute when the Son of God entered upon His death agony. Could the Father witness unmoved the Son's acceptance of the full measure of His humanity, even the death of the body ? And if the Father lost the equi- poise of the eternities in those moments when the sufferer said, " I thirst," or when He forgave the impenitent thief, or when He cried with a loud voice, '' My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me ? " or when with the words, '* Father, into Thy hands I com- mend my spirit," He gave up the Ghost, and the veil of the temple was rent in twain ; must we not believe that the shadow cast 234 Hert? Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. by His destiny of death, .ever drawing a little nearer, even as the shadow of the dial passes lower and lower while the sun dips in the west and the night is at hand, was ever upon His spirit, and deepened as the hour was come ? He foreknew His coming, if scripture is to be believed, and he came prepared for the body ; but so do we all. '•Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting ; The soul that rises with us, our life's star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And Cometh from afar : Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness ; But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home." On the other hand, Christ knew that He must die, so do you ; and Christ went forward with somewhat of shrinking, so do we ; and the life was stricken out of Him, even as it must be out of us. As He left behind the glory of His patience as a legacy to human kind for all ages, so let us be possessed of the same self-constancy, that we may illustrate glorious examples of patience after the same blessed type ; for the fruit of Jesus' life was Cf?e patience of C!}rtst. 235 not three tours amid two hundred village towns of Galilee, or His three passovers at Jerusalem, or everything He did from the manger to the grave ; but the true fruitage of His life was His passion of patience, the master-motive of His career, which might have been seen had we been there in every nervous step from the judgment hall of Pontius Pilate to Mount Calvary, and which culminated in the death-agony. The pa- tience of Jesus must have been solely in view of His death. He knew His future, for He prophesied concerning it, both the resurrec- tion and the ascension, including His office of intercession. His ultimate triumph was a solace for His present humiliation. Heaven to Him was like heaven for us, a present solace because it held hopes of future comfort. As the soldiers of the late war bore the fatiguing march under the hot Southern sun, or mined and counter-mined at seiges, delved in breast- works, charged into craters, fought with the ferocity of beasts, and at some news of great victory won, transported, broke into cheers and disorderly enthusiasm, not because they were resigned, but because they were patient in view of the promised peace toward which 236 Hen? Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. they were struggling and for which they were pining, so we look forward, buoyed by the patience of hope. We love to think of ourselves as sol- diers of the cross, for whom the never-dying laurels of victory are already won, and great and glorious blessings of peace are assured. For this reason we seize most eagerly the promises of the Master concerning the bless- edness of the future life. The promises, however, cannot do away with the sharp- ness of death. That the promises are an assistance to the sick, is undoubted, for they fill the mind where otherwise there would be a dull monotony of pain. That the Holy Ghost sustains the dying, and often in in- stances of great and true faith fills them in the death struggle with the ravishment of hope prematurely fulfilled, is undoubted in the mind of the preacher, but death is death ; the grave must have mastery over the flesh. A maxim of the old Stoics runs : "Out of the universe from the beginning everything which happens has been apportioned and spun out to thee ; " and again, ** Whatever may happen to thee, it was prepared for thee from all eternity ; and the entwining of ^t?e patience of (£l?rt5t. 237 causes was from all eternity spinning the thread of thy being, and of that which is incident to it." But this is not the Christian conception of life ; we believe indeed that God's plans for us begin from the past ages of eternity, but destiny in the sense of un- controllable and uncontrolled fate is evi- denced in only two things, our birth and our death. We are compelled to assume the inevitable ; for one to say that he hates his life is nothing strange, but he must bear it. Now while death is under control in the sense that we may take our own lives, this is so abnormal an experience that for all practical purposes we may assume all desire to live. The man desires to live, but he is fated to perish, and even the suicide can- not escape from life save by the doorways of death. This inevitable dissolution of the body, the ultimate enemy alike of wealth, ambition, power, poverty, need, and sin, was the heritage of Jesus from His humanity. When we are sick, we send for the physi- cian, and tax all his resources on our behalf; we summon up the scattered forces of the will, and make ourselves ready for a great stand ; we turn to God, the acknowledged arbiter of our destiny, and strive to carry the 238 Xlcw doncepts of £)16 Dogmas. citadel of heaven by the storm of our peti- tions beating against its walls. And this or that may avail for the nonce ; but it is only a respite, we must again hear the beatings of the wings of the angel of death. Grant could win at Appomattox, but he could not win against his last great enemy in the cot- tage at Mount M'Gregor. But there are many instances which seem to indicate that a fixed fate is certain to us. The precau- tions of cowardice often bring the victim but nearer to death. The hero of thirty battles, just passed through, dies in his bed. Emin Pasha, rescued by Stanley after years of isolation in the Equatorial Provinces of Af- rica, at an expense to the British govern- ment of $150,000, falls from a balcony at Bagamoyo at the banquet of his friends, and nearly perishes. • Gen. Dan. E. Sickles, to- day prominent in New York politics, I re- member well as he came home from the war, having lost a leg in the cause, and my youth- ful blood thrilled to hear of his hairbreadth escapes, of the horses shot from under him, and his wounds at Gettysburg. *' A thou- sand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee." C^e Patience of (£t?rtst. 239 As therefore this thing is so often beyond us and a matter of God's decree, it surely behooveth us to meet it without fear ; but then who can ? No human being that loves life and many days can honestly say he does not fear to die. Each would ask, if it were imminent, a few moments for preparation, and those few minutes would be the best of our lives ; each least bit of devotion and goodness in us would rise to the surface and be skimmed. A just appreciation of Christ's patience can only be had when we consider that He knew the end from the beginning, and did not have the resource of uncertainty which is the privilege of us all. He knew His time, and during passion week stood within its shadow. He knew that nothing could save Him. ** The Son of man must suffer many things at the hands of the elders, and on the third day be raised from the dead." Like a criminal under sentence of death He could say, '* I have five days to live, or four days to live, or three," and witness the ever-nar- rowing marge of time this side eternity, with no buffer of uncertainty to break its force. Our stand against death is bad enough, but His was worse ; alone He stood with the cer- 240 Hetr> Concepts of £>lb Dogmas. tainty of His destiny. Paul and his chain are but insignificant compared with Christ and His cross. No man on a forlorn hope ever bore his perilous mission half so jauntily as He with His eye illumined by the hope set before Him, in order that He might save. A newspaper criticism of a painting by Mr. Alexander Pope says: ** The subject is chosen from Bulwer's scene in the ' Last Days of Pompeii/ when Glaucus is about to confront the lion in the arena, and when premonitions of the grand disturbance of nat- ure make the beast indifferent to the lesser conflict prepared for the sport of the popu- lace. The chief interest of the painting very properly centers upon the lion, since it was the instinct of the noble beast which changed the plot of the story, and which acted as a warn- ing to the great, throng, intimating how small were men's jealousies and passions before the tremendous force which hurled the city unto destruction. Mr. Pope has endowed^ the lion with a grand indifference to the little part which he was set to play with Glaucus. Instead of facing his opponent, he has turned to look up toward the flame and smoke just issuing from the mountain ; and his action is so vivid that, although the mountain is not Cl?e patience of (£I?nst 241 seen in the painting, the spectator is aware of a serious disturbance upon the nature of the apprehensive beast. His head is raised, his front paw is not placed as firmly as usual, and his whole attitude expresses timidity without a loss of nobility and grandeur." So all through passion week the Christ amidst the turmoil faced the great event to come, not with timid foot, but with a mien so fraught with the consciousness of destiny soon to be fulfilled, that His attitude of mind and heart obscured all else. What is Annas, or Caiaphas, or Pontius Pilate, or Mary and Peter and James, the Roman centurion, or the howling mob ? "Almighty and everlasting God, who, of Thy tender love toward mankind, hast sent Thy Son, our Saviour Jesus Christ, to take upon Him our flesh, and to suffer death upon the cross that all mankind should follow the ex- ample of His great humility ; mercifully grant, that we may both follow the example of His patience, and also be made partakers of His resurrection ; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." i6 THE BASIS OF PRAYER. *' Ye worship that which ye know not : we wor- ship that which we know.'''' — yohn 4 : 22. TO worship in the Christian sense is to per- form acts of adoration ; while to adore is, first, to pay special and marked honors to God, and second, to regard Him with the ut- most esteem, affection, and respect. Heathen men lay less stress upon love than do Chris- tians, and found their worship upon power and the fear of power. We must recognize that comprehension of power is essential to adoration, but that it is not the only attribute necessary thereto. Who could worship an impotent God } It would be possible to love God as the lover adores his fiancee — sim- ply as another person of agreeable quali- ties, and perchance with a hearty sense of comradeship. That, however, is not worship ; God in such circumstances is not above patronage. That Christian familiarity in prayer, momentarily forgetful of its disparity with the Infinite, often drops into descriptions of the Deity, is due to (242) ^{?e Basis of prayer. 243 this fact, as if God did not know Himself. Again it often describes its own case with minuteness, as if the Godhead could not see all the thoughts and purposes of the heart without a microscope. And too often the in- tellect exhausts itself in a magnificent argu- ment, as if to an unwilling mind, and ends with an eloquent peroration both ecstatic and bewildering. From birth to death. Am I not a dependent being.'' Can I breathe without His sustenance .? Can I live without His care ? Can I die except as He hath ordained ? With such constant dependence upon Him, man is ill-prepared, unless his eyes are closed to his real situation in God's world, to assume that he is sufficient unto himself in all things. " The avalanche is starting ; put down your staves through the snow-bank, hold for your lives ! " the guide may shout back to Alpine climbers below him ; and with an involuntary terror each one clenches his teeth and strikes the iron deeper. The next day, safe in his hospice, each recounts the dangers passed through and pathetically describes the instant when the soul was be- leagured by terrors. And shall the moral nature thus wince under the external fact of a higher law, and be unmoved if man shall 244 Xlcw Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. know that God to whom the avalanche is no more than a snowball which boys have rolled in the damp snows to the foot of the hill, is moving against him, holding him reprobate and offensive ? Suppose a man from another planet, or a holy angel of God from heaven, should come to earth and learn of men ? In Africa, on the grass lands about the great lakes, he might find the Wahuma an Ethiopian or Abyssinian stock, and among their varied pursuits of peace and war he would notice an egg or banana or kid skin placed at the door of a miniature temple always found at the en- trance of the group of family huts which are surrounded by a wattled fence. "Then, too, every person," says Henry M. Stanley, ''wears a ch:arm around the neck, or arm, or waist ;" the one being a temple for the abode of a dread deity, the other a protection from su- perhuman personalities who otherwise might maim, disease, or destroy. Or suppose the foot should first tread on Indian soil, there would be found altars before shrines in which the gods do dwell, altars of sacrifice unto su- pernatural spirits who are sometimes given image within in such grotesque form as shall shadow forth his unusual and hence god-like Cf^e Basts of Prayer. 245 qualities. "Every town in the most relig- ious province of India" is filled with temples, and every hamlet has its shrine. The na- tional reverence of the Hindus for holy places has been for ages concentrated on "the city of Puri, sacred to Vishnu, the lord of the world." The same is true of all antiquity. Hardly a race of men is to be found that does not show a worshipful spirit based upon consciousness of dependence. From man's situation he argues with only such revelation as is given him in a state of nature, that there is a source of life and power in all the earth about him. To assist in making the existence of his deity real he fashions the idol, and at length cannot see why the wood or stone which he has placed in the shrine is not the vehicle of the God who was worshiped in the shrine before the idol was fashioned, and who, becoming identified with the place, he thinks must be identified with the visible token of him fash- ioned as best the skillful hands of men about can create. You see the degrees of approach to a con- summate idolatry. God the all-powerful is in the world, its first cause and sustainer, a certain portion of which, His handiwork, 246 HetP Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas, may be set aside to His worship. On this we will build a temple. As this is the place of prayer and sacrifice, it becomes holy ; next the deity identified with the spot comes to be regarded as the deity on the spot ; then the idol in the temple becomes the object of the sacrifice without the temple, and god and idol are one to remotest generations. But behind it all and fundamental thereto is the consciousness of dependence on the part of the creature. There are many reasons why you and I are conscious of mystery behind life and nature due to the teachings of science, which has be- come a part of common knowledge ; but we are presenting those feelings common to human nature, which the savage recognizes in the bloody rites of his heathen ritual, and which a heritage of our humanity are accentu- ated by the reflective powers of the intellect using the facts of our nineteenth century en- dowment of knowledge. I think it is for this reason that men pray : they can get along without prayer, but man was made to pray, and prays as naturally as he breathes. Sticks and stones cannot pray, the brute beasts do not pray ; therefore how excellent is our her- itage. It is as a testimony to this native en- CE?e Basts of prayer. 247 dowment we quote the Rig Veda, the psalms of the Indian branch of our Aryan stock. " Whosoever scoffs at the prayer which we have made, may hot plagues come upon him, may the sky burn up that hater of Brahmans." Three births the Indian Aryans taught, — the birth into the world, the regeneration consequent upon religious duties, and the translation to the kingdom above when fire setting free the spirit, the body returned to the earth whence it had been derived. Then the friends standing around recited the words of the ritual, '' As for his unborn part, do Thou, Lord, quicken it with Thy heat ; let Thy flame and Thy brightness quicken it ; convey it to the world of the righteous." There is something infinitely touching about a person in prayer. The worship of orientals was ordinarily expressed by kneel- ing and prostrating one's self before God. It must be an affecting sight when the Mus- sulman unrolls his carpet, faces toward the East, and prostrates himself before the Su- preme. I noticed in the Century for No- vember, 1890, a picture of a Buddhist priest already sixteen hundred miles on his journey, with eleven hundred more to cover before he should reach Lh'asa ; every two steps of the 248 Xlcw Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. way he set down the miniature altar, with its nosegays at either end, and its three burning joss sticks, and prostrating in the supposed direction of Lh'asa, did reverence to God, not knowing, perchance, like the Samaritan, whom he worshiped, yet his act of devotion is a silent testimony of the creature's sensi- bility of his dependence upon a higher power. This is man bowing down before God. If I should see him thus cheerfully devout, I should feel like kneeling with him ; trusting that I prayed more intelligently than he, yet conscious of the same fundamental impres- sions of my relations to the unseen Deity. Once I did enter into devotions in just this way, in the Notre Dame at Montreal. It was a stormy day ; men were praying all over the house, silent and motionless, rever- ent in mien, and devoutly giving the sign of the cross, and bowing before altar, image, and picture. I said, '' I am a praying man too. I care not much for those great puffed- out, blood-burdened hearts under glass cases, with little red globes strung along the gas pipes in semi-circle above them, or those vases filled with dowdy artificial flowers ; but there is an incense of devotion going up, there is a recognition of the oversoul CI?e Basts of prayer. 249 and human dependence. However great the superstition, there is worship. I will worship too, believing that God who seeth the heart of Papist and Protestant alike, will be well pleased." You all will remember the wonderful pict- ure called the Angelus. The attitude of that peasant man and woman is an attitude of prayer. In the distance a steeple rises above the horizon, but they are not listening to the silver tone of bells. You need not be told they are engaged in worship. The legend that ascribes the bell note as the signal for their devotion, is not needed in interpreta- tion. Whether bells are sounding in their ears, it is no matter ; they heed them not ; their souls are enwrapt. Consciousness of dependence has obtained recognition for a divine Guest, who will not turn His back in the half-opened door. All other sounds are banished, all other sights are dim ; one pres- ence illumines two hearth-rooms, and two spirits are prostrate in adoration. One almost hears the words, ''Put off thy shoes from thy feet, for the place where thou standest is holy ground." The hundreds of thousands who have stood before that bit of canvass twenty-two inches in its widest part, 250 Hett) (£oncepts of £)Ib Dogmas. and have lingered that its impression might grow beyond first sight effects, have sat con- scious that an impression unusual in this sen- sual, material age, has been infused into the dull pigments by the consecrated genius of the painter, so that they have become vocal with the thoughts and sentiments of a human heart prostrate before the throne of the King of kings. The atheist, with the spiritual and moral dullard, can only say, " What can this mean .?" but goes away touched on a side of nature never before awakened. To them, however, who have known the way of peace but have neglected the means of grace, and so have not walked in its ways, it is a sermon which preaches louder than a preacher's voice and more powerful than his pen. ''Peace," he saith, " which others have and I have not, is found by the prayerful peasant who acknowl- edges God, being conscious of the strength of the right arm of the Omnipotent, and of his own dependence thereon." To the weary and tired there is a ministry in worship. For the tempted and the sick there is a trance which redeems the spirit from the dominion of the body, and makes a dying bed as soft as downy pillows are. tri?e Basts of prayer, 251 Martyr after martyr gave up his life in the flame and smoke of death at the stake, and thought not of his pains, but only of the revelation of the Lord Jesus to his eyes, before whom his spirit prostrated itself on its knees, a service which the cords binding to the stake could not restrain. Huss died with the words of the supplication of the mass upon his lips, *' O Lord, have mercy upon us." Green's shorter history of the English people says of the Marian persecu- tion, '* Rogers, . . . one of the foremost among the Protestant preachers, died bath- ing his hands in the flame, as if it had been in cold water. Even the commonest lives gleamed for a moment into poetry at the stake. ' Pray for me,' a boy, William Brown, who had been brought home to Brentwood to suffer, asked of the bystanders round. *I will pray no more for thee,' one of them re- plied, 'than I will pray for a dog.' 'Then,' said William, * Son of God, shine upon me,' and immediately the sun in the elements shone out of a dark cloud so full in his face that he was constrained to look another way." To us who are Christians has been vouch- safed fullness of knowledge. Through the Jews has come one Christ, the revealer in His 252 Xlzw Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. person of the mind, heart, and temper of God. One with all men in conscious need of worship, we of all men have fullness of knowledge alone shared by the Christian centuries. Let us worship God less and less as we may good naturedly treat a neighbor or friend of whom we ask a kindness with good will and something of fawning ; but rather with consciousness of dependence in manly recognition of the oversoul, let us worship as the prelude to petition, as con- comitant to service, and as the end of all striving, God's recognition of us being our hope and our glory. THE LIFE BURDEN A PRAYER. ^'' Rememberme^ O my Lord, and wipe not out my good deeds that I have done for the house of my God and for the offices thereof. ^^ — Neh. J J : 14. NEHEMIAH, you will remember, was the great leader who brought back the fifty thousand exiles from Persia, and re-estab- lished the Israelitish name in its ancient seats. When the walls had been rebuilt about Jerusalem, the prime necessity for trade and personal security being accomplished, he gave himself to the extirpation of heathen practices among the people, and to the re- establishment of the pure worship of Jehovah. Three times in this chapter, and once else- where, he asks God's remembrance of him for what he had done. These were the climactic acts of his career ; he had gained the permission of the mighty Cyrus, and per- formed the long march at the head of the emigrants, refortified the city, and done all that he might bring a transplanted nation and priesthood back into impact with the heavenly King. In view of these last acts (253) 254 Hen? Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. crowning his whole labor, his cry is, " Re- member me, O my God, for good." This is a breathing out of the heart of the man. The labors of a lifetime he offers up ; conscious of his singleness of purpose and of the service he has been able to render, he asks that his works may plead for him, and that the great acts of his life may stand as memorials of what he did, each one a reminder to the eter- nal Spirit and appealing to the love of the divine Heart. " Ah ! " says some one, " Nehemiah is lay- ing down on the counter the price he would pay for himself, as a slave under the old regimen might redeem his freedom with the wages of his slavery. And as the first words of bill of sale of the freedman granted mastery over his body unto himself, so with similar conception the man of God is pur- chasing himself of his God for his own selfish ends, is gaining mastery for himself through purchase, ' Remember, O Lord, my works, and grant me good.'" Now the preacher is aware that no man is equal to the task of his own redemption, and that it is through God's love that we are saved, and that our justification must be through the merits of a matchless personality. But justification Cl^e Ctfe Burben a prayer. 255 by faith is one thing, and the return of love by the creature justified is another. It is one thing to rest assured of the pardon of God, and another thing to accept that par- don in penitence and taking heart to mould one's character over after the model of Him who needed no repentance. This second act of putting one's self right with God is by no means conflicting with that conscious- ness of personal ill-desert and acceptance of God's scheme of redemption. This attitude of Nehemiah may be called Old Testament legalism, or salvation by works, or any other name ; to me it appears to be a noble peti- tion, worthy of any devout nature, ancient or modern. A Christian woman, speaking of missions in my hearing, said, " The burden of the Christian as one advances is changed into prayer," and then corrected herself adding, *' Rather, the burden of the Christian is changed into wings." The first statement had made its impression upon me, and I could not forget it. Ah! yes, I said, I've seen it so many a time. A mother, to re- claim an erring child, will pamper his ap- petite with food to his taste ; will gratify his whim in little things about the house ; 256 Xltvo Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. will plead with father that he may not be so stern with the boy ; with dear, affectionate lips will coax the wanderer, will think of him much, however recreant may be his life, and will pray for him with travail of heart. Does not the burden of that life become trans- formed by the load of its passion, the passion of a weak human heart ? Does not its bur- den, so willingly borne, become a mightier prayer than any faltering petition that the mother heart can frame from tremulous lips ? Does not the life with its burden avail more mightily with God than the mere prayers of a million men ? Christ is set forth in the Scriptures as at the right hand of the Majesty on high, our intercessor. Do you think that the nature of His intercession is continual request for our help.'* or do our prayers receive the indorsement of His wounded hands and side, seals of His passion and sign manuals of His burden of redemp- tion, eternally made a prayer, and never lack- ing in potency to the heart of the Father ? There was a general in the East who enlisted in the war of the Rebellion, was frightfully maimed, and received his dis- charge from the hospital a mere trunk, as I remember the story. He soon sent word to tr^e £ife Burben a Prayer, 257 his fiance, releasing her from her pledge, which release she promptly refused. You see it was not the wording of his petition, but the burden of his life, that made the prayer which touched. She said there was more in him as he was than in any man she knew. If human kind are thus moved, is it too much to believe that God is won more by the master- motive of a life which culminates in a shat- tered body, and of which this is a witness of unspeakable power, mightier far than any voiced aspiration of the heart in the lip-serv- ice prayer ? We had a boy in college who lived across the river and walked in to his recitations. Nobody that knew him could help respecting him, but so much was ex- pected of him in manual labor on the farm, and he scrimped so much on clothing, that we thought him rather a light weight. He did not have the chance to study as the rest of us did. As he progressed in his professional studies, we were conscious of a vast development, and in the flower of his youth and culture he gave himself (the deacon's best gift to the Lord) to Foreign Missions, and was assigned to Mexico. Be- fore fully acclimated, while worn down with his studies, he took the small-pox and died, 17 258 HctD Concepts of £)I6 Dogmas. As the spirit of the boy left his swollen, pu- trid flesh, would you call it legalism or work righteousness had he exclaimed, " Remember me, O my God, concerning this, and wipe not out my good deeds that I have done for the house of my God and the offices thereof" ? Could not his poor body, as representing the burden of his life, speak louder than all his prayers, had he lived a thousand years in a monastery apart and given his whole strength to prayer and devotion ? We pray by choice, that is for chance ob- jects. We happen to think of somebody, and word of petition follows. We surprise our- selves often in the new objects that of a sud- den appear to us for prayer and the persons for whom we pray. Now no prayer is lost, and I would encourage you to pray irration- ally, for we must pray all ways, with all manner of weakness and spiritual poverty, that we may enter into the true blessedness of prayer ; but do not lay too much stress upon it. When sportsmen shoot aimlessly, they shoot into the air. When you pray aimlessly, you often pray from feeling, and never coun- ter to the spirit of your life, pray as you would not have prayed had you thought upon it. Which prayer shall God answer, the prayer of CI?e £tfe Burben a prayer. 259 the lip, or the prayer of the life's burden ? Which do you want answered ? Is it not the prayer of the life-burden, after all ? And as you stand to-day looking back upon your life, do not the failures to answer chance pe- titions seem trifling one way or the other ? Do you not know that the final petition, the asking of your deepest desire, bearing the sum of all your petitions, their very sub- stance, is found in the burden of the life? We may pray for our wants, which seem as multitudinous and varied as those con- tained in the advertising columns of the daily press, and pray for our needs, all of which are solid, real things to us, and there may be no more doubt about our truly de- siring the things asked than of our neces- sity ; but such petitions, emphatically ours, inconsiderately ours, in which we ask wealth for ourselves and no one else, health for us and our children, for the gratification of our ambitions, that our pleasures may be unob- structed and receive the blessing of Heaven, couched in worshipful and respectful terms toward God, they are importunate and Scriptural, for they follow the rule, but do we expect them answered ? There is every human need in them but soul hun- 260 Heip Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. ger, every objective but the good of others, every passion but the passion for holiness, every moral thing but equity, every love but love for Christ, simple and sincere ; and such a clamor for blessing we call prayer ! And it is a kind of prayer. But if my soul is in peril, and eternal destiny hangs upon mortal issues for me, God grant that my life may be involved within the sphere of action of another life in which such lip-service has only a minor place, and the life is a constant burden of doing good ; when the ruling passion is the travail of Christ for the rescue of a human soul to ways of life, and when the soul is given to paths of duty, and God is great beyond com- pare to one consciousness, and His purpose supreme law to one will. For I know that such a person, whether humble or great, hath power with God for greater than lip- service, the burden is transformed into prayer, a constant reminder of a motive such as dwells in angels' bosoms. I believe such a person can alter the course of Orion and the Pleiades, change the movement of human destinies by his own petition, and by his own prayers alone transform those human socie- CF}e £tfe Burben a prayer. 261 ties we call nations, and lift up all civilization nearer God. Of the salvation of the individual by a life burden made a prayer, I cite the rescue of John B. Gough from a drunkard's cups through the prayful endeavors of his wife. Of the salvation of a nation by the life burden made a prayer, I cite the revolution of Scot- land by John Knox. Of the uplifting of human civilization by a life-burden made a prayer, I cite the wonderful influence of Christopher Columbus, through the discovery of America, upon European Christendom. As Columbus lay in the hold of the ship, return- ing a captive to the Spain he had endowed, the victim of ingratitude, oppressed and over- thrown by a stupendous wickedness and malice, I believe that by reason of the burden he so pathetically and proudly bore it be- came transformed into a petition of the mighty soul that moved the heart of God ; and that when, in addition to the mute peti- tion of the life, Columbus prayed,^ all Heaven heard the whisperings of human lips, and iQf Columbus we are told: "So strict in religious matters, that for fasting and saying all the divine office, he might be thought professed in some religious order." 262 ttem Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. Christ saw the travail of His soul and was satisfied, and the Father and the Son were at one with each other. Which was the greater honor, to discover a new world, or to have the burden of the life changed into prayer? Which ? A VALID REDEMPTION. *♦ As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilder- ness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up : that whosoever believe th may ifi Him have eternal life:' — John 3 : 14, IS- A FEW years ago, in one of the large fac- tory towns in New Hampshire, a little French boy met with an accident which necessitated medical assistance. His skull was stoven in at a given point ; during the painful operations of the surgeon he sat unmovable and calm, without an anaesthetic and with nothing to help him bear the anguish save only a diminutive cross and the image on it, rude but suggestive of Him who bore our sorrows in His own body on the tree. That medical operator was a sincere and devoted Protestant, and his assistant, a man of similar views, shared his principal's conviction that the boy's faith helped him in his extremity. Protestant theology also uses this symbol as a stimulus and help to man in his ex- tremity. We point the eyes of the dying to the cross which was raised upon Calvary, (263) 264 HetD Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. that it may be to them like the brazen ser- pent in the wilderness to the stricken Israel- ite, — a source of healing and recovery. We do not offer the crucifix, because we fear that it may become an object of idolatry ; that instead of finding in the smaller cross a remembrance of the true cross, it may come to be the all, an object of reverence and a fixture accessory to the incantations of devotion, in the prayers of the rosary. We say with Knox, in his Scottish fervor. It is a bit of painted wood ; but we wel- come the faith that survives the appeal to the external senses, and which, beyond the sympathy which the image of suffering may produce, has in its consciousness that cross of Calvary, as an object of faith. This may be readily explained. You pass a person suffering bodily anguish, and your heart goes out to him, but that is not an act of the religious sensibilities ; true, the man or woman without pity is less religious than the person with it, but there is no distinct moral impression which makes a man hate sin or brings him into peace with God. Thus in so far as the crucifix brings up to the mind merely the bodily suffering of the Lord Jesus, it is no help to faith ; but in so far as that U Valxb Hebemptton. 265 crucifix or your thought and my thought of Calvary pervades the consciousness with the idea of Christ on the cross as a sacrifice of the sins of humanity, or as an atonement by means of which reconciliation is possible be- tween God and man, or as the most potent example of the moral power of self-abnega- tion, constrained by the power of which exemplar men in all ages are led to resist "even unto blood, striving against sin," in so far the cross becomes what Jesus said it should in our text, namely, a means of the purification of man's heart, of the transforma- tion of man's motive, of the salvation of man's soul. This is the bed rock of Christendom ; here is to be found all that is worth having in the old church or the new. We do not deny that immortality is a great doctrine, but immortality hinges on the death of Christ ; we do not deny that ethics is a great topic, but we say the highest ethics and the best morality must recognize in the suffering Redeemer the profoundest moral experience ever witnessed upon earth. Hu- man philosophy attains its highest levels only when it explains the relation of the Crucified to the redemption of humanity, justifying the claim of theology to be es- 266 ttetD Concepts of £)Ib Doijmas. teemed queen of the sciences. Human life is never apprehended in its true dignity until it is seen to be worthy the sacrifice of the highest of uncreated beings, the sufferings and sin of human beings causing Deity to suffer as the only possible means of re- demption. Suppose we listen to the wild cry of the mob, and strike Christ's true cross out of Christian belief; once more the heathen age returns when man, and man only, is a cosmic fact, and God or gods are mere possibilities to the imagination of dreamers. How de- graded would seem the poverty of man's endowment ! how base the flights of his pur- est imagination ! how ignoble his physical constitution ! how worthless the boon of existence ! Christ without the cross is a Socrates ; Christ with the cross is God in- carnated in human flesh. Christ without the cross is a moral personality of superior intentions as to duty and righteousness ; Christ with the cross is the exemplification to remotest ages and all mankind of the verity of eternal justice, that there is no forgiveness of sin unless the punishment of transgression meets its due reward. Christ without the cross resigns mankind to be U Valib Kebcmptton. 267 smitten by its appetencies, leaves it cradled in crime to grow up into criminality ; Christ with the cross raises human character from ruin and degradation, and establishes holi- ness in human hearts. We mean to claim, in other words, that human society is revolu- tionized by the doctrines of the cross ; that it brings into touch, if you please, with human experience, ideas and ideals other- wise unknown and strange. This we think is admitted on all hands, the difference of view, of feeling, of passion, and of love, which is illustrated in a man who has never heard the gospel, and the same man when he has heard it proclaimed, or, better, when he has ac- cepted it, and made it his own. Here we are met by the objections, "But the cross which the church holds up is a fiction." " Christ did die, but dead, his death avails not ; the atonement, the sacrifice, the reconciliation, mean nothing. We believe in facts, the church believes in fancy's dream, cleanse thy body of superstitions, and we will receive the church evangel." We beg to differ with such voices. True, the cross is a symbol, but it must be more significant than the many myriads of crosses which bore more or less guilty men under judg- 268 Heto Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. ments of the Roman law, the world over, during the reign of the imperial city of the Caesars. But we affirm that the symbol- ism of the cross is no greater than the symbolism of ordinary life. Take an ob- jector who deals exclusively with facts, and who objects to the ideality of the Christian religion. I warrant he may be living upon a property which for fifty years has been dwelt upon by his race, and that he can show no deed because his inheritance is one of un- broken possession. But why does that posses- sion come down to his remote generation ? Simply because that ancestor fifty or a hyn- dred years before did symbolic things ; that is, lived there, took possession, staked out his claim, cultivated. He may not have done so much upon the property as others upon their homesteads, he may not have been so needy or so deserving, yet the symbolism of his act holds the estate, and it descends securely to each remotest generation of his descendants. Perhaps our friend holds a mortgage upon the land of his neighbor ; he doubtless is not sorry to be the possessor of such an instrument, but it is merely the symbol of money paid and the consequent rights to principal and interest ZC Vaiib Hebemption. 269 investing in him, for which the whole prop- erty may be held until at length, the equity becoming worthless, he takes possession. His symbol by that act is proven worth more than his neighbor's fact. The symbol has swallowed it up, and, if the first possessor is recalcitrant, in the hands of the sheriff vindi- cates very soon its right to be considered a potentiality in human affairs. A store ac- count, the deposition of a witness living or dead, a last will and testament, the decree of a court, the proclamation of our president, all are instances of the effectual use of symbolism in human affairs. The late dying emperor of Germany, unable to qualify as ruler by taking the oath of office, was compelled to affirm in writing that he would as soon as he were able, and though his ability could never come, the symbol stood for the act, and he was both a crowned and uncrowned king. But the best illustration of all is in the cur- rency of the United States. Our bank bills and treasury notes are good, lawful money ; in and of themselves they are worth just what they will bring as old paper or as curiosities ; but representing dollars in gold, they will everywhere procure the necessities and luxu- ries of life. Nothing is too cheap to be be- 270 Hem Concepts of £)[b Dogmas. yond their reach, and no work of art hallowed by the signature of a genius, and no gem bright with the radiance of God's handiwork discovered and developed by miner and lapi- dary, is so choice that they may not buy it. And yet they are only symbols of the real value contained in a gold coin of standard weight and fineness. Methinks the most matter-of-fact man is willing to fill his wallet with them ; he does not insist on bullion rather than bills, that he m.ay have more to do with realities. The world's business could not be done without notes of this sort, and checks and similar business paper. The man, therefore, who refuses to accept the cross as a symbol of Christ's death upon it and of his mediatorial and reconciliatory work, in con- sistency should refuse bank notes, and go about weighted down with gold coin. Indeed, we may push the same illustra- tion further. What is gold ? Well, it is the only yellow metal ; it is the most malleable and ductile metal. Very thin leaves appear yellow by reflected light, and green by trans- mitted light ; and when heated, the trans- mitted light is ruby red. One grain may be drawn into a wire 500 feet long. It is of use in jewelry, particularly as furnishing, when 21 Valxb Hebemptton. 271 alloyed, a strong and beautiful setting for precious stones. From most ancient times it has been made a standard of value, like the shells known as wampum among the North American Indians. In the remains of most ancient peoples, along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, together with beautiful ornaments, the style of which the modern goldsmiths are to-day reproducing, are discovered the nuggets rudely stamped with the seal of dynasty or of metropolis, the coin of that remote day. But gold will not shield the back from winter's blasts ; it will not pacify the stomach gnawed by hunger or parched with thirst. It could be dispensed with so far as the actual supply of man's needs is concerned. It is, in other words, merely the symbol of the world's wealth, the something into which all values can be converted, and of peculiar fitness for its sphere because it is hard to obtain, the supply keeping down better than that of any other metal, so that it is not cheapened by surplusage. Every pound of tobacco, every gallon of molasses, every commodity of com- merce, every inch of real property, submits to this standard for the determination of its value. Is it any wonder, then, that the 272 ruw Concepts of £)16 Dogmas. church cannot understand why its reality should be tainted by the charge of fiction ? For one, conscious of my weakness, with evil ever present with me when trying to do well, with the best of my purposes not wholly clear from evil influence, I find in the cross the symbol of my redemption, and I draw healing and blessing from the acceptance of its sacrifice, as completely sufficient to atone for my lack and my transgression, believing that, '* as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth, may in Him have everlasting life." This is the stand- ard of holiness ; this is the atonement for transgression ; this is the pledge of life eter- nal ; this is the means of salvation in a lost and ruined world ; this is the symbol of God's sacrifice for sin. YET SHALL I LIVE. " Though he were dead, yet shall he liveJ*^ — John II : -25. HOWEVER poorly the Christian world has assimilated the moral teachings of Christ, hardly less striking is the failure of mankind to enter into the great birthright of immortality, revelation concerning which is contained in the Christian Scriptures. It is a pleasure that all communions are recogniz- ing this great festival of the Christian year, which pertains to no church in particular, but to the church universal, its observance dating from the very resurrection itself, and being a blessed reminder of the hopes bound up in Him who hath ascended to the right hand of God the Father. To the soul that believes that He lives, how can this life ever sink down out of the sense of privilege and responsibility resultant from apprehension of immortality ? Better that the right hand lose its cunning than that the creature live for his day-dream and passion, his eyes able to see naught above him, his thought able to engross noth- i3 (273) 274 Hett) Concepts of £)lb Dogmas, ing beyond this present time. While the word of Christ is a pledge of certainty, the loss of which would be the loss of all absolute assurance, the human heart rejoices when the human reason is able to develop arguments pointing to aptitude and capacities harmoni- ous with the conception of a life to come, a continuation and culmination of the life that now is. Every person is impressed with the inherent life of the planet. Men live and die, it matters not who has been, only who is. The most magnificently endowed body in an in- stant becomes a perishable remnant, brother of the insensible clod. This present life is a continuous wave of existence ; what now is of humanity is the present possession of a phenomenon we call life. If all ages were allotted to a zone on a great sphere, each of which, when it came under the sun- light in its slow revolution, sprang into life, all things behind being dead, all things in the future being a creative possibility await- ing conditions of life, we should have a good illustration of the impression which life in the abstract makes upon the human mind. Striking God out, we say animate nature lives ; but we do not know how it lives. 2?et Sl?aII 3 Cbe, 275 Studying conditions and environment, we cannot learn the secret of life, we only know that it is. It is not strange, therefore, that in all ages there have been some who have said, ** All I am conscious of is this life phase in which I exist. Moreover, men about me seem moved by the same impulses that I am ; the highest offices of religion do not reach the masses. I go with the bulk of the life in my time. Everything about my personality I conclude is consequent upon life." We would remind you, first, that this is an observation of per- sonal identity. We do as others do, we are the victims of circumstance ; we will live and die ; life is all and death ends all. When this doctrine comes to scientific statement, there is nothing but matter in heaven or earth ; thought, memory, aspiration, are all products of molecular action, like the heat generated under chemical combinations. And the bur- den of the siren-song is, " Man, thou art not immortal ; thy hopes are perishable ; turn thy face away from the heavens ; thy birth- right to immortality is a dream." Recall that man you knew well of old. There is not a particle of the same creature in him there was then ; yet you take him by 276 Hem Concepts of £)I6 Pogmas. the hand, the same finger is gone that was then lacking ; you look into his eyes, they are not the same, but they look the same ; his face is wrinkled, but you tell him it has the old look ; the voice is not the same, but you would have known it anywhere ; and mentally you find the same characteristics, though somewhat changed. Now in all the changes of the years has there not been a law of personal identity running through all? That body and spirit are some way or other wrapped up in one personality. You read his books, and you hold him responsible ; you take his note, and you hold him to ac- count ; you see him in a court of law, and you charge the debt upon him, and you re- fuse to allow him to prove that he is not responsible. Let him commit crime, and you trace throu^gh years his vicious courses, and hold him up to the execration of man- kind. That is, behind all change there is a reign of law, which reaches out into a certain domain and assimilates earth, air, food, and water into a certain reign of consciousness which we call personal existence. I will be more explicit ; there is a life principle in each human being which takes light, air, food, and drink, and devotes it to the con- ^et Sf?aII 3 Ctpe. 277 struction, maintenance, and repair of a par- ticular body ; it ministers to nothing else in the world ; everything that comes from the outside must minister to it or be untouched. You may pile a thousand barrels of flour at your front door, but this life principle can only assimilate a certain quantity such as it may take through the body it inhabits. Every ray of light, every blow, every thought, every convulsion of nature, has certain ave- nues of impression, but this ministry from without is limited by the capacity of the life principle to receive. It matters not if there are oceans of water, but it has not a drop to drink ; or if the world is bathed in sunlight, so long as clouds are overhead. This per- sonal miracle of life thus breaks in upon the phenomenon of life at large. II. Turning scrutiny within, we there find evidence of the same identity. We have changed, like our friends, but we know that the hand which to-day clasps the hand of friend, is the same that long ago plighted troth and friendship ; however much may have been the changes in its physical make up, it is our hand now and it was our hand then, and no constraint of certainty compels us to move it one way or that, only the self- 278 ruxo Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. determinations of personal identity having had ought to do therewith. III. Further : that power to think known to each of us is proof that we are ; and this proof is not merely a present consciousness ; it registers its present acts, and makes them a matter of reference for the future. No man writing down in ink some transaction of to- day, has a safer record than you and I have of certain acts which had great dramatic power on us, — dramatic, I say, because or- dinary events we do not care to treasure ; a terrible scene of bloodshed haunts the living to the death ; an unwonted sorrow never dies. An old love may be imperishable ; there may be mothers in this congregation who treasure the little things of a child long dead. Men have been" through the hell of war, or the great excitements of politics, which have left within them photographic scenes which can be called up by memory and presented. IV. If in power of thought we find argu- ment for identity, much more in memory. Amid all the changes of our life, what thing has remained constant to serve as the nega- tive of past scenes by means of which the past is thus preserved, representation of which, vivid and truthful, we may reproduce 5et 5l}an 3 £ipe, 279 at will ? That this is contained in molecules of the brain, an inconstant substance con- stantly undergoing change, is impossible ; and when you give capacity to transfer an idea from one molecule to another, you have given the power of personal identity. Let me clinch the argument a little ; the molecule of the brain is the factor in reproducing im- pressions of things concerning which it can have no knowledge of itself, because they took place before it was in existence. Plainly, therefore, there is something in living rela- tions with the molecule, capable of transfer- ring from one molecule to another, impres- sions which it has derived from one alone. A man faints away ; molecule and atom remain in his brain cells, but where is thought ? Dead or dormant, surely, for when he comes out of it, reason awakes. The power to think has remained somewhere while the life of the body has gone on ; now where, I ask, was it ? How can a molecule have one moment the power of thought and one moment not.-* Plainly the power of thought has relations with the molecule, but is not that molecule. Again : to take a well-authenticated instance : A laborer was struck by a falling brick, and was rendered insensible. When he recovered 280 Hett) Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. consciousness, he finished the sentence which was interrupted when the accident occurred. The functions of the body were broken off, and the real thinking power was held in leash until the relations could be re-established be- tween body and spirit. Plainly, there is something behind the body which flesh and blood is not heir to, which hath a kingdom of its own, and which has relations to the flesh for reasons of convenience only. Again : a person dies from a stroke of lightning, or fs drowned ; there seems no mutilation of the body, but in spite of molecular immobility the capacity for thought has gone. Some- thing greater than the body was here, some- thing that used the body, something over which the body had no control, without which the body cannot protect itself from dissolu- tion. Being therefore so all important, holding as it does the key of the centrifugal forces which pull together the microcosm we call the body, is it strange that Christian men hold that the truly essential life is that which has gone, or that, impressed with the argu- ment drawn from personal identity, they have believed that through the transplanta- tion of that mysterious hidden fire of being is ^et SI?aII 3 Ctpe. 281 found the true explanation of the doctrine of the immortality of the human soul ? Is it any harder for the human spirit to energize a new body in the glorified state of heaven, transferring itself from its present energizing vocation in the human organism, than for it to transfer its spiritual and sensual impres- sions, that is, its thoughts and recollections of places and occasions, from the molecules of the brain, its officer and servant, of fifty years ago, to the molecules of the brain of to-day ? Fifty years ago I saw something ; the eyes that saw it are gone, the brain that registered the sensory impressions of the nerves of the eye is gone ; that was fifty years ago. On the new brain of to-day my inner self brings up that old impression, and I see it in my mind's eye again. I say that gap of fifty years thus o'erleaped is as great as the gap between the life that now is, and that which is to come, and that the energization of the new molecule of the brain fiber and reproduction of sensory impressions is as great as the energization of a glorified body and the reproduction of sensory impressions in the land beyond the swelling floods. With throbbing heart, therefore, in the presence of the awfulness of death, dilating with the 282 rtctt) Concepts of £)lb Dogmas. hopes of a man for immortality, gathering in the testimony which my personal identity gives to the feasibility of that hope, I accept the word of my Master, and believe with the assurance of faith that though I shall die, yet shall I live. HE IS RISEN. ''He is not here; for he is risen.''— Matt. .28 : 6. THE opening sentence of the collect for Easter Sunday — '' Almighty God, who through Thine only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, hast overcome death, and opened unto us the gate of everlasting life"— is a wonderful sentence, wonderful as pure lim- pid English, the glorious, chaste, and beauti- ful tongue to which we were born ; wonderful as pregnant with thought so copious that volumes could be written upon it ; and as an exact statement of Bible teaching in unin- spired words, presenting in freshest way Scripture thought. This collect ends as our text, and leaves us gazing into eternity. I was born, says one, amid the hills ; love nourished me, and I grew. I do not know anything about it, only that in the blackness of the night that shrouded my being, lumin- ous points appeared, here a love, there an experience, again a knowledge which might better be termed a consciousness. The one (283) 284 Hem Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. was the love which is nurtured in the home. It can have no introduction to you ; your hearts have been swayed by it, and must be so long as God gives you reason and existence. Another luminous point against the back- ground of that forgetfulness out of which we sprang into our mother's arms, is what I might call world-consciousness ; for it grows to that. It begins in the sense of touch ; however, we cannot trace it thus far ; we learn to trust our instincts at first just as honey bees somehow learn to soar aloft and line straight for the hive. But there comes, by and by, the luminous point when we be- gin to mentally register conceptions of what we see, what we hear, what we feel and smell ; this grows, but we remember its beginning. The third luminous point grows out of con- trast between life and the unknown, some experience which, across the brightness and sunshine of our living, casts the shadow of a power, which, when it strikes, strikes to maim and destroy. It is shrouded at first, so that we do not understand that it is natural law and that it worketh death ; but it plunges the iron of a nameless dread into the soul. When we are blown off our feet ^e 3^ Hisen, 285 by cyclones, and hug the ground in terror, or when we nearly drown, the memory of our minutes of clutching at grass roots, vainly trying to pull ourselves out, and the seconds when we are under water before the air bladder of the lungs brings us to the sur- face, these photographed on the memory, ever bring up the same first luminous notions of things. From the first we have appetites and we learn to know passions. Look at those pictures in the illustrated magazines, of abject slaves and their savage black masters. Tears must fill the eyes of the philanthropist as he thinks of the poor children of Africa being hurried away by the inhuman mastiffs that guard them, to the sea- coast under incredible hardships and direful miseries. They, too, have had the dawning of reason ; they, too, are men ; they, too, have had the luminous points arise to this mental vision ; and have had their horizon enlarge. But their horizon is not yours, their loves are not yours, their knowledge is not yours. How mighty the force of cir- cumstances to crush the weak ! On the other hand, witness the arrogance of the captors. See the predominance of bestial character- istics, the weakness of the moral and spiritual 286 Xtew Concepts of £)Ib Dogmas. nature, the high ardor of their cruelty. They have the air of men who die in their calling if to achieve their ends death is necessary ; but their calling is man stealing ; the sorrows of others are their meat and drink. Does the invincible human courage raise the abo- riginal races of the dark continent ? Is it not rather used to render more complete the ab- jectness of man's ignorance, the misery of his estate by nature ? What makes the difference between them and us ? The stereotyped answer is, Civiliza- tion ! Yes, a very noble answer. For in- stance, notice the civilization of the Indian at the West. He is a drunken, lazy brute, always drinking the white man's whisky, always lending himself to the white man's immorality, paving the way for his own de- struction, so mean that the proverb, '* No good Indian but a dead one," is current. But then, of course, it is right ( ?) ; for it is civili- zation ennobling the untutored mind of the savage. Take the black man at the South before the war. The Southern whites founded the most interesting aristocracy the world then knew ; they hunted and fought, lived in elegant homes with all the appointments of civiliza- Eje 3s Htsen. 287 tion ; they were educated and had coura- geous, enterprising, and in many respects noble natures. Now the black man came in contact with this superior civilization two centuries and a half before. As the result, what was he ? Well, to the extent of one million souls he was white. The disowned offspring of his masters, born in sin, with the seal of his shame set on his forehead as a mark of Cain, forever to appeal for justice and consideration to the people of this land. He had almost no knowledge of right and wrong ; small morals, boundless emotionalism. He was a thief when thieving could be done by a sneak ; he was a savage in his ignorance, a child in his dependence. Behold the effect of two hundred and fifty years' contact with civilization. But how about the hundreds of thousands in the slums of a great city, whose homes are the houses of one or two rooms, who daily jostle on the streets the better classes of the metropolis, who certainly are at hand to the elevating influences of civilization ! To say they have no religion is no competent answer, for how can they hear except they have a preacher, and religion is not responsible for the man who does not accept it. Christ is 288 Hen) Concepts of £){b Dogmas, the power of God unto salvation to those who believe. Why is it the city goes from cor- ruption to corruption in private life, and in public and political morality, if the elevating power of civilization is the only potent and all-powerful factor in reformation of life and manners ? Why did the ancient civilizations, the Assyrio-Persian, the Greek, the Roman, fairly rot to pieces in their ages of highest splendor, joint by joint, as if they were being eaten off by the gangrene of personal corrup- tion ? The Ingersol party then had its inn- ings ; shall it have them again ? But to go back again to our early experi- ence. The budding soul awakened to a knowledge of itself finds an environment which leads to a special intellectual, moral, and spiritual endowment. We call it Chris- tianity, or the Christian religion. I dub it the influence of Christ on hearts that love him ; L believe it to be the one all-powerful leverage for making men better, whether savage or civilized ; I believe that civilization without it is only manners and of doubtful utility. If man is to live like a beast, let him live in a wigwam ; it is his proper habitation ; it is where he first laired, and is his native heath. To put a low, immoral drunkard into ^e 3s Ktscn. 289 a fine house is indeed putting a beast in the parlor. Christian manhood and womanhood, then, deserve the best things, for they make civ- ilization wherever it differs from a society- formed on natural principles. It ennobles, beautifies, saves this life. Hence it is that unfolding to the eye of faith the life immortal, and preparing a soul for death, notwithstand- ing all makes the soul cling to this life, be- cause Christianity alone makes this life worth living. To work out such an anomaly is necessary in order to have the terms of true religion fulfilled. It must point to heaven, it must ennoble earth ; it must lead the soul to Elysium, it must make Elysium in the heart ; it must make it gain to die ; it must make it glorious to live ; it must make us dream of the life to come with the glorified saints, and make us pant for battle as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. It is as though Christ took us by the hand and walked the way. All uplift- ing of human life in its motives comes from Christ. We learn to sympathize with His Spirit ; we learn to make His love our love ; we live His spirit and motive into our life so far as we can. He touches us through others who love and imitate Him ; He touches us 19 290 HetD Concepts of 016 Dogmas. through the habits and usages of the com- munity in so far as it is moulded by the mind of Christ ; He touches us through history ; He touches us through tales of heroism ; He touches us through art. Put above your mantel some glorious photograph of the Ma- donna, or some great picture of the Man of Sorrows himself, as the unique story of His life impressed the imagination of a genius ; for to think of Him seriously once a year is worth the whole cost. So we are led to passion-week. We stand ^with the spectators in the gloom of the cloud overshadowing the cross, in the gloom of that cloud witnessed afar off in Egypt. We see Him laid in Joseph of Arima- thea's new tomb. Thus far what is the key to the whole career .'' There is no clue; the wonder of the life is supernatural, as by mira- cle, but its true nature does not come with convicting force. With the resurrection from the dead added, all things are complete. We see that God was behind Him, that the God- head was in Him. We understand the uni- ol Times. Brave and True. Talks to Young Men. Bv Rev. Thain Davidson, D.D. Cloth '. .50 " This is one of the books the wide circulation of which cannot be too greatly desired." — Presbyterian Journal. " Young men in business, and old ones too, would do well to read this book." — St. Andrew's Cross. Thoroughness. Talks to Young Men. By Rev. Thain Davidson, D.D. Cloth. _ .50 The latest work by this eminently helpful writer for young men. New York: Fleming H. Revell Company: Chicagow The New Enlarged and Authorized Edition of a Remarkable Work. the: CHRISTIAN'S SECRET OF A HAPPY LIFE. This Work, the demand for which has been so great as to wear out two sets of plates, has now been put in entirely new form. The book hav- ing become an accepted classic in de- votional literature, it was thought wise to issue this new edition in a compact form, and in a variety of bindings. Occasion has also been taken by the author to thoroughly re- vise the whole work, besides adding considerable new matter. 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Dr. Clark, in his introduction, says: — " This book we most heartily welcome, not only for what it indicates, but for what it is, for we have never seen any work more admirably fitted to its purpose. In fact lit- erature of this sort is very scanty, and so far as we know, this book occupies a place all its own. In the home, in Sunday-school class, in the mission circle, above all, in the children's meeting, this volume will find its place, and will be welcomed eagerly by many a perplexed par- ent, pastor, and teacher. We do not see why this book, with its weaftn of suggestive material, its outhne studies on all matters of practical Christianity, and its hap- pily chosen stories, may not be used » a text-book by leaders of these societies." / "This book occupies a new field, and occupies it well. No other book in the language, so far as we know, has even attempted just this task of providing a manual for teachers of children's classes, superin- tendents of Junior Endeavor Societies and the like. Each lesson be- gins with certain ^.b! texts bearing on the subject, to be marked and explained, then an outline of the subject, followed by a story which illustrates and enforces it. There is nothing weak or puerile about the book, but thee is a wealth of information and suggestion, of which theusands of workers among the children will avail themselves. Superintendents of Junior Christian Endeavor Societies will find it very useful, in fact, almost indispensable. We commend it most cordially." ■^Golden Rule, CHICAGO. Fleming H. Revell Company, n EW YORK. Morfts b^ Dr» B. 3. ©orDon, IN CHRIST ,' or, THE Believer's Union with hi3 Lord. Seventh Edition, 12mo, fine cloth, 210 pages, $1.00. 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An Agent wanted in every Town In the United States to canTass for this work. ■ ♦ ■ 100,000 SYNONYMS AND ANTONYMS. ■ ■ ♦ ■ ■ A COMPLETE DICTIONARY OF Synonyms and Antonyms, or, Synonyms and Words of Opposite Meaning-, With an Appendix Embracing: a Dictionary of Briticisms, Americanisms, Collo- quial Phrases, etc., in current use; the Grammatical uses of Prepositions and Prepositions Discriminated, a list of Homonyms and Homophonous Words; a collection of Foreign Phrases, and a complete list of Abbreviations and Contractions used in writing: and printini:. BY Rt. Rev. SAMUEL FALLOWS, A.M., D. D. One Vol. 5 1 2 Pages, Cloth. Price, $1.00. Cloth, Gilt, Beveled Board, Canary Edge. Price, $1.60. Daily American, Nashville, Tenn. •' A book that may be called well nigh invaluable to every class of people — students, literary men, public speakers, or any who have much of writing to do. Scarcely any one can afford to do without it, and to the person who writes in a hurry it will prove a boon indeed." Col. Francis W. Parker, Principal Cook County Normal School. ' ' A very valuable book to have at ones elbow for constant use." Tbos. B. Stockwell, State Commissioner Public Schools, Providence, Rhode Island. *' Of real value and helpful in many ways, and will commend itself to every student." CHICAGO. Fleming H. Revell Company, n EW YORK. SUGG:BSTIVn BOOKS JPOR BIBI^JB RBA.DJBRS. '■ — ♦ ♦ ♦ THE OPEN SECRET; or, the Bible Explaining Itself. By Hannah Whitall Smith. That the author of this work has a faculty of presenting the "Secret Things" that are revealed in the Word of God, is apparent to all who have read the exceedingly pop- ular work, " The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life," and such will not be disappointed in expecting to find in this new volume a fullness and sweetness in the unfolding of God's Word, in its application to the practical and daily du- ties of Christian living. i2mo, 320 pages, cloth, $1.00. BIBLE BRIEFS ; or, Outline Themes for Scrip- ture Students. By G. C. and E. A. Needham. i6rao, 224 pages, cloth, $1.00. *• Here are sermons in miniature, which any preacher will find it {profitable to expand into sermons in full measure. True Biblical out- ines are here ; not artificial ' sketches,' but Scripture frame-works. Oh, that the preachers would depend on such frame-works, rather than on such jire-wor^s as many of them attempt !" — Jiev. A.J, Cordon^ D, D.y in The Watchivord. " Here you have meat without bones, and land without stones. Mr. and Mrs. Needham will have the gratitude of many a hard-pressed teacher when he is hard up for a talk."— i?^z/. C. H. Sturgeon. BIBLE HELPS FOR BUSY MEN. By A. C. P. COOTE. Contains over 200 Scripture subjects, clearly worked out and printed in good legible type, with an alphabetical index. 140 pages, i6mo, paper, 30c. ; cloth, 6oc. *' The topics are familiar in thought and form, and are in many cases admirably adapted for Bible readings and for prayer meetings. ' Busy Men,' upon whom rests the responsibility of leading a meeting and choosing a topic, and especially of conducting an evangelistic meeting, will find this little book of decided value."— T/iir Golden Rule. " Likely to be of use to overworked brethren."— C. H. Spurgeon. " Given in a clear and remarkably telling ioTm^ -^Christian Leader, •MicAco. Fleming H.ReYell Company, newyork. Popular MissionaryBiograpWes 12mo, 160 pages. Fully illustrated. Cloth extra, 75 cents each. From The Missionary Herald. " We commended this ser- ies in our last issue, and a further examination leads us to renew our commendation, and to urge the placing of this series of missionary books in all our Sabbath- school libraries. These books are handsome- ly printed and bound and are beautifully illustrated, and we are confident that they will prove attractive to all young people." •' These are not pans of milk, but little pitchers of cream, compact and condensed from bulkier volumes." — Dr. A. 1 . Pierson. SAMUEL CBOWTHEB, the Slave Boy who became Bishop of the Niger. By Jesse Page, author of " Bishop Patteson." THOMAS J. COMBEB, Missionary Pioneer to the Congo. By Rev. J. B. Myers, Association Secretary Baptist Mis- sionary Society. BISHOP PATTESON, the Martyr of Melanesia. By Jesse PAGt. GBIFFITH JOHN, Founder of the Hankow Mission, Central China. By Wm. Robson, of the London Missionary Society. BOBEBT MOBBISON, the Pioneer of Chinese Mis- sions. By Wm. J. Townsend, Sec. Methodist New Connexion Missionary Society. BOBEBT MOFFAT, the Missionary Hero ofKuruman, By David J. Deane, author of " Martin Luther, the Reformer," etc. WILLIAM CABET, the Shoemaker who became a MiS' sionary. By. Rev. J. B. Myers, Association Secretary Baptist Missionary Society. mIAMES CHALMEBS, Missionary and Explorer of Marotonga and New Guinea. By Wm. Robson, of the London Missionary Society. MISSIONABT LADIES IN FOBEIGN LANDS. By Mrs. E. R. Pitman, author of " Heroines of the Missionary Fields, etc. JAMES CALVEBT; or, From Dark to Datvn in Fiji. JOHN WILLIAMS, the Martyr of Polynesia. By Rev. James J. Ellis. HENBT MABTYN, His Life and Labors. By jESsa Pagb, author of ''Bishop Patterson," etc. DA VID BRAINEBD : Apostle to American Indians. MADAGASCAB : Its Missionaries and Martyrs. DAVID LIVINGSTONE ; By Arthur Montefiore, F. R. Q. il 3mportanl fllMeaionari? 369ue6» Published by the Pletnins: H. Revell Company. Henry Marty n, Saint and Scholar, First Modem Missionary to the Mohammedans. 1781-1812. By George Smith, C. I. E., LL.D., author of "Life of William Carey," "Life of Alexander Duff," etc. With Portrait and Illus- trations. Large Crown Svo., cloth 3.50 "Dr. Smith fills up with healthy, human detail what before lay in bare outline. We have here a Martyn who could talk, laugh and fall in love like other people,but who while relating himself wholesomely in this way to the rest of his fellows, in what was special to his character and his work still rises to heights which pierce the heavens."— C^ris^ia?i Wo? Id. James Gilmour, of Mongolia. His Diaries, Letters, and Reports, edited and arranged by Richard Lovett, M. A. With three Portraits, two Maps and other Illustrations. Large Crown Svo. cloth 1.75 "The story of James Gilmour will, if we mistake not, take a place of its own in modern missionary literature. To a world devoted so much to mercenary interests, and a Church too given to take things easily, the life is at once a rebuke and an appeal not easily to be forgotten."— r/im^'iori World. "We gladly welcome another notable addition to the number of Impressive and fascinating missionary books— a volume fit to stand on he same shelf with the biographies of Paton and Mackay."— BriYts/i Weekly. "James Gilmour may appear to some as a hero, to others as a deluded enthusiast, but no one who takes up this account of his life and work can fail to be fascinated by it.'"— Man- chester Guardian. The Ainu of Japan. The Religions, Superstitions and the General History of the Hairy Aborigines of Japan. By the Rev. John Batchelor.C.M.S.Missionary to the Ainu. 80 Illustrations. 12mo. cloth 1.50 "Mr. Batchelor's book is valuable as being the first which treats at any length of this strange people."— Pai^ Mall Gazette. A Winter in North China. By Rev. T. M. Morris With Introduction by Rev. Richard Glover, D.D. Map- cloth 1 50 "A vein of cheerful humor running through the work makes It one of the brightest books of travel we have seen for a long time.''— Christian World. "It will tend, we hope, to stimulate and deepen Interest in uie teeming multitudes of densely populated China."— TA* Btcord. Missionary Publications. The Child of the Gang es. A tale of the Judson Mission, by Rev. Prof. rTN. Barrett. Illustrated. 12ino., cloth 1.25 Contains many striking incidents in the life of Adoniram Judson, deftly woven into a most interesting and fascinating story. The Holy Spirit in nissions. By Rev. A. J. Gordon, D. D, r.imo., cloth, gilt top (i/i jpress) 1.25 A new volume by this author is always welcomed. The theme of this new work, as treated by Dr. Gordon, is &ure to be of deepest interest. The Story of Uganda and the Victoria Nyanza ' Mission, by S. G. Stock. With a Map and Illustrations. 12mo., cloth 1.35 **Do Not 5ay;" or, The Church's Excuse for Neg- lecting the Heathen. Paper. 100 pages wei, 10c. "An earnest and forcible appeal."— PFa/'cAman. "A most earnest, pungent and reasonable appeal."— Stitg^ ious Telescope. "A telling contribution to missionary literature."— Pr(?«&y- terian Journal. "An earnest, ringing Macedonian cry."— iV. F. Observer. John Kenneth Mackenzie. Medical Missionary to China: wi'.h the story of the first Chinese Hospital. By Mrs. Bryson. 12mo., cloth, 400 pages 1.50 "A noble story of a noble m.di.n.''''— Christian Intelligencer. "There is inspiration in a biography like this."— 6=o^de» Bule. "Should be placed in the library beside the autobiography of John G Paton." — Missionary Herald. "Missionary Literature is greatly enriched by the addition of this stimulating volume."— 6%ri«"^ ; ' f) •,.it.*' ■ ■' ■ I ■ ''it :: ^.^S■ J I,' '.' *i! • ."I ■ >•• y' %