D[

' - -ml.

Bought with the income of the
J. D., C. J., and J. L. Whitney
Fund, 191*^

DOCTRINE AND DEVELOPMENT

DOCTRINE
AND DEVELOPMENT

UNIVERSITY SERMONS

HASTINGS RASHDALL, D.C.L, M.A.
FELLOW AND TUTOR OF NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD
AUTHOR OF "THE UNIVERSITIES OF EUROPE IN THE MIDDLE AGES "

METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET, "W-C.
LONDON 1898

TO
MY EARLIEST THEOLOGICAL TEACHER
THE VERY REV.
HENRY MONTAGU BUTLER, D.D.,
MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED
IN AFFECTIONATE GRATITUDE

PREFACE
"" I ^HIS volume is intended as a modest attempt
-'- to translate into the language of modern
thought some of the leading doctrines or ideas of
traditional Christianity. The task is one which
many have of late years taken in hand both in
Germany and in England, and there is probably
little in these pages which is not derived from, or
at least suggested by, the thoughts of others. The
book may perhaps be found to differ froni some of
the more familiar English works of the same type
by a franker admission of the necessity for theo
logical reconstruction, while I have endeavoured to
avoid the opposite mistake of supposing that
Religion is possible for reflecting minds without
a Theology, or that " liberal " Theology means vague
and indefinite Theology.
The title (chosen only for want of a better) is
intended to suggest two things — that all Theology
is the result of a development, and that the de
velopment of religious thought is not finished yet.
Theology arises out of the attempt to set the facts
of the moral and religious consciousness in their

viii PREFACE
due relation to the facts of science and of history.
It is the attempt to build up a theory of the universe
from the religious point of view. Christian Theology
is the result of thought or reflection upon the life
and teaching of Jesus Christ, or what at any given
time that life and that teaching were understood to
be. Theology is not necessarily valueless ox super
fluous because it is the result of development:
Christian doctrine is not necessarily untrue or
without value because it is not explicitly contained
in the actual teaching of Christ, or of those earliest
Theologians whose writings are contained in the
New Testament Canon. It is of the highest im
portance that we should understand and make the
most of the rich inheritance of Christian thought
which the Church has handed down to us. At the
same time it is equally important that we should
recognize that some things have been believed by
Christians — possibly by the whole Church of some
particular period — ^which are no longer believable
by us. At times the necessity for giving up some
element of traditional dogma arises from the change
which has taken place in our view of the facts of
Christian history: at other times the modern
Christian may accept the same view of the facts,
but may find it impossible to be satisfied with some
explanation of the facts which sufficed to " vindicate
the ways of God to man " for past generations.
Thus we can no longer accept the theory of " verbal "

PREFACE ix
or of "plenary" inspiration, because we have dis
covered that the facts about the Bible are not as
they were supposed to be when the theory was
constructed; on the other hand, those who believe
equally with St. Anselm or with Luther that Jesus
Christ died, and died " for " men, can no longer accept
without reservation their explanations as to why
there was this necessity for Christ's death, because
men's ideas of what is intrinsically just and reason
able are different from what they were in the days
of St. Anselm or of Luther. It is necessary, then,
to admit that here and there' there must be some
"giving up" of accepted doctrines, that at some
points the ever active process of doctrinal develop
ment has got on to wrong lines, and must make
a new departure. But in such cases we shall find
that we are very often simply going back to some
earlier stage in the development of doctrine, though
generally the old doctrine will be held with a
difference. The view of inspiration, for instance,
to which modern Theologians are coming round is
far more like that of the early Fathers than it is
like the view of seventeenth-century Protestantism.
But still it is not the same : it is impossible that
a critical age should think exactly like an uncritical
one. And in the great majority of cases there need
be no " giving up." The defects of the development
may be corrected not by going back, but by going
on — by a new and larger interpretation of the old

X PREFACE
formulse. The development has simply to be carried
further. A doctrine may sometimes strike the
modern mind as narrow or one-sided or inadequate
because in its ancient form it suggests ideas or
theories or views of the universe which have been
transcended, but which do not really affect its
essential truth. Indeed, the new interpretation will
often discover a fuller and higher meaning into the
old words than the traditional interpretation. Many
theories of Inspiration, for instance, become erroneous
only when what is asserted of the Bible or of the
primitive Church is denied of other books or of the
Church in modern times. It is impossible that men's
theological ideas should not be continually affected
by the changes which Philosophy and Science and
historical criticism have produced in their ideas about
other things. The process of reconstruction through
which Theology is now visibly passing, even in the
hands of those to whom the idea of theological
innovation is least welcome, involves no greater
revolution than has already occurred more than
once in the Church's progressive attempt to under
stand and to formulate the relation of the "faith
once delivered to the saints" to the continuous
self-revelation of God to the human spirit.
For some readers I might perhaps illustrate what
I mean by comparing the traditional dogmatic
systems to the great masterpieces of ancient
Philosophy. It is still possible for a student of

PREFACE xi
Philosophy to be a very faithful Platonist or
Aristotelian, but it is impossible for any man
acquainted with the methods and results of modern
Science and historical criticism really to believe in
all points as Plato or Aristotle believed. The most
enthusiastic disciple must needs reject rnuch of their
Astronomy, their Cosmology, and their Physiology,
and this difference between their way of looking
at the universe and ours will necessarily affect the
interpretation that is given to nearly every part of
their strictly philosophical systems. And yet this
difference may not diminish, it may even emphasize,
the value of the essential elements in those Philo
sophies. For the modern PJatonist is not less
idealist than Plato, but more idealist, because he
has got rid of certain ideas about a residual and
unintelligible element in things which stood in the
way of the full development of Plato's own system.
In the same way may we not appropriate to our
selves many essential ideas of Athanasius or Thomas
Aquinas without seeking to disguise the fact that we
can never think about God or about Christ exactly
as men thought in the fourth century or the
thirteenth? Because the Christian thought of the
future must be different in many ways from the
thought of the past, it need not be less Christian.
The Christian thought of the future should be more
Christian than the thought of the past, just because
we are getting to understand better than past

xii PREFACE
generations the essential and eternal value of that
life and that teaching on which all Christian doctrine
is a commentary. That the Christianity of the
future, while it finds ever fresh meanings in the
teaching of its Founder, will never really go beyond
what in germ and in essence is to be found in the
religious consciousness of Christ, I have endeavoured
to show in the Sermons on " the Historic Christ " and
" the Unique Son."
It need hardly be said that it is only in the most
fragmentary and imperfect way that that restate
ment or reinterpretation of Christian doctrine which
is so much needed by the Church of our day could
be attempted in such a work as the present, even by
a Theologian better qualified for the task than the
present writer can pretend to be. But even in the
most inadequate of such attempts it is hardly
possible — at least for a University preacher who
happens to be a teacher of Philosophy — to avoid
touching upon some of the difficulties which current
Philosophies offer, or are supposed to offer, to
Christian belief. It is my strong conviction that
a Theology which is to satisfy thoughtful men in
these days must rest upon a basis of thorough-going
Metaphysic ; and therefore I do not apologise for
occasionally becoming a little metaphysical. At the
same time I hope that even the more metaphysical
of these discourses (chiefly the first and the last)
may not be unintelligible to readers little versed in

PREFACE xiii
technical Philosophy; while 1 must ask philosophical-
readers (if such I should have) to bear in mind that
these are bond fide sermons, that they were not
originally intended to form a series, and that it is
impossible, even in a University pulpit, to deal with
the philosophical aspects of thecfcgical questions
in a way which will satisfy philosophical experts.
Even the more purely theological topics can of
course be treated only in a very inadequate way.
I have throughout endeavoured to keep in view the
practical objects of which the preacher should never
lose sight, and some of the sermons deal with wholly
practical questions. The most that I can hope for
is to help a few minds puzzled by the intellectual
difficulties of our time to a more rational Christian
faith. The sermons were preached at different times in
the course of the last ten years. I have, of course,
printed nothing which I do not now believe, but
I have not thought it necessary to consider how far
in point of emphasis or of expression some of the
earlier sermons would be different, were I now to
rewrite them. I believe that, taken together, the
sermons represent a consistent point of view, but
I should be sorry to think that I had learned
nothing in ten years.
- Most of the sermons were preached as University
Sermons at Oxford, either on the nomination of the
Vice-ChanceUor or as Select Preacher in 1895-1897. .

xiv PREFACE
One of them is a Cambridge University Sermon ;
two were preached at Aberdeen, and two in Balliol
Chapel when I was for a short time Chaplain of that
College. One sermon has previously been printed
in the Expositor, one in the Durham University
Journal, and others in the Oxford Magazine.
I have to thank several friends for their kind help
in the revision of the proof-sheets, especially the
Rev. Archibald Robertson, D.D., Principal of King's
College, London.
H. RASHDALL
New College, April i%th, 1898.

CONTENTS

PAGE
I. Spiritual Theism . . . . i
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1896.
II. The Holy Trinity . . . . 21
Preached in Balliol College Chapel,
Trinity Sunday, 1894.
III. Limitations of Knowledge in Christ . . 33
Preached before the Umversity of Cambridge,
December 23rd, 1889.
IV. The Historical Value of the Gospels . 58
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1895.
V. The Unique Son . . ¦ • 77
Preached in Balliol College Chapel, 1894.
VI. The Historic Christ . . . . 89
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1896.
VII. Revelation by Character . . .110
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1894.
VIIL The Abelardian Doctrine OF THE Atonement 128
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1892.

xvi CONTENTS

PAGE

- iX. Justification . . ... 146
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1895.
X. The Idea of Sacrifice . . . . 164
Preached in the University Chapel, Aberdeen,
January 1 6th, 1898.
XI. The Resurrection and Immortality . . 177
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1 897.
XII. The Christian Doctrine of Property . 190
Assize Sermon, preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, November 19th, 1893.
XIII. Differences of Vocation . . . . 210
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1 89 1.
XIV. Christ and Culture . : . . 229
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1897.
XV. The Idea of the Church . . .247
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1897.
XVI. Personality in God and Man . . . 268
Myrtle Lecture in the University of Aberdeen,
February i6th, 1 898.

SPIRITUAL THEISM
Preached before the University of Oxford,
at St. Mary's, 1896.
" God, is a Spirit : and they that worship him must vforship him in
spirit and in truth." — John iv. 24.
" /'"^ OD is a Spirit." We must turn for a moment
VJC to the context of these words if we are to
appreciate their full depth of meaning and the
originality of the teaching which they convey.
The words occur, you will remember, in the con
versation with the woman of Samaria ; they are part
of our Lord's reply to her question as to whether
Jerusalem or Gerizim was the true place in which to
worship God. The enquiry betrays what we may
call the essence of Paganism. Amid the infinite
variety of types assumed by polytheistic deities,
this one feature is, I suppose, absolutely universal.
The gods of Polytheism were essentially local deities. "^
Their power was limited to such and such a spring,
such and such a surrounding territory, such and such
a nation, such and such an element or province of
nature. The gods of the hills were not the- same as
the gods of~ the valleys. Originally, indeed, the
B

2 SPIRITUAL THEISM
deity could only be approached at such and such
an arbitrarily selected spot. The earliest symbols of
deity were not statues, not representations of a god
in human form, but simply stones or pillars at which
the god was supposed to corae into an almost physical
contact with his worshippers.*
¦At first it is difficult to say how far the god was
distinguished from the signs of his local presence.
No doubt the crudest Theology ascribed some sort
of spiritual being to the deity which inhabited the
spring or the river, but still it was also true in a
sense that the spring or the river was the god. As
men's conception of their deities widened, the con
nexion between the god and the place of his special
manifestation became less intimate. A slow process
of what from the scientific point of view may be
called evolution, but which may no less truly from
the religious point of view be called Revelation, had
gradually conducted the Jewish Nation to the belief
that their national Deity, Jehovah, was the one and,
only God of all the earth. But even Monotheism
by no means necessarily destroyed the belief in a
special relation of God to a particular people and
the land which it inhabited. To the Samaritan
woman, as to her average Jewish contemporary,
Jehovah was undoubtedly the only God; but He
was a God who could be worshipped, if not indeed
exclusively, yet with fullest and completest accept
ance, only in Jerusalem or in Gerizim. That state of
mind represented what we may call the last expiring
* Cf. Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, p. 84 sq. et
passim.

SPIRITUAL THEISM 3
stage of old-world Religion. In transcending this con
ception our Lord proclaimed the doom of Paganism.
" The hour cometh and now is when the true wor
shippers, shall worship Him in spirit and in truth,"
no matter whether in Jerusalem or elsewhere. It
may be doubted whether up to that moment in the
world's history this fundamental principle of Theism
had ever been thus fully enunciated in complete
freedom from all Jewish limitations. The teaching
of Christ completes the long evolution of religious
thought. It is well to emphasise this one particular
aspect of Christ's work ; this one fact that Jesus
Christ was, so far as we know, the first teacher who
taught Theism in complete freedom from Jewish
limitations — that by itself is enough to place Him
in an absolutely unique position in the history of re
ligious thought. Strongly and rightly as we may feel
that this fact does not exhaust the eternally unique
significance of Jesus Christ for us, it is important
that we should realize that He has this claim to our
allegiance. Everyone who can sincerely join with Him
in saying, " God is a Spirit, the only one, and He can
be worshipped with equal acceptance everywhere if
He be worshipped in a spiritual manner," proclaims
himself by that confession to be in a very real sense
a Christian.. His Christianity — I am speaking, of
course, of Christianity now simply from the point
of view of theological opinion — his Christianity is
no doubt imperfect; but he is not without a very
good reason, for calling himself a Christian. He does
worship God, as Christ was the first to teach men
to worship Him. Assuredly no other of the great

4 SPIRITUAL THEISM
historical religions can claim the allegiance of such
a worshipper. For Mohammedanism, however
grievously in other ways it has fallen back from
the Christian standard, both of conduct and of
creed, is in this matter not an independent religion,
but an offshoot from the parent Judeo-Christian
stock. So far, at least, the spiritual Monotheist is
necessarily Christian ; some meaning, at least, he
must be able to ascribe to the unique position which
Christian Theology has assigned to the Son of Man.
But it may be said : Granted that Judaism was
the first great avowedly monotheistic Religion, and
that Judaism culminates in Christianity, has not this
truth of the Unity and Spirituality of God been more
or less the underlying basis, at least of all Eastern
religious thought ? Are the gods of the Vedas any
thing more than so many manifestations of the One
Spirit ? And have not philosophers and philosophic
poets, born in the bosom of Paganism both before
and after Christ, reached, whether by philosophic
argument or by spiritual intuition, the same precious
truth? Were not the sages of Brahminism in an
esoteric way — were not more explicitly Socrates,
Plato, perhaps Sophocles, Monotheists at heart ?
Certainly we have no theological interest in atten
uating the Theism to which all the greatest spirits of
the world's history have, at least, approximated. If
not before, yet very soon after Christ, Philosophy
did, quite independently, teach a doctrine about God
closely parallel to the teaching of our Lord. There
is much truth and instructiveness (so far as it goes)
in the point of view from which Christianity appears

SPIRITUAL THEISM 5
as the popular force which converted the esoteric
teaching of the philosophers into a religion for the
many ; * and when we say Christianity in such a
connexion we mean the historic personality of Christ.
" Though truths in manhood darkly join,
Deep-seated in our mystic frame.
We yield all blessing to the name
Of Him that made them current coin."
There would be nothing in that point of view
which should diminish our sense of the uniqueness
of Christ's position in the world's history, or even of
the uniqueness of His nature. Yet after all, one can
hardly recognise more than an approximation to the
Christian doctrine of God in the teaching of any
previous or even any later independent non-Christian
thinker. The esoteric Monotheism of the East, and
the speculative Theism of the Philosophers, are no
doubt free from the local limitations of the ethnic
religions : their conception of God is adequate enough
in point of universality; but then it is usually more
or less defective on the side of Personality. " God is a
Spirit." It is more than doubtful whether even Plato,
or any of the later philosophers who were unaffected
by an indirect Christian influence, would have fully
appreciated all that those simple words meant in the
mouth of Jesus or of the simplest of His followers.
From the point of the genuine Theist, the humblest
Christian who had learned the true meaning of this
teaching of the Master from St. John or St. Paul,
even the least in that kingdom of God which Jesus
had set up, saw more clearly into the heart of things
* See Mark Pattison's University Sermons.

6 SPIRITUAL THEISM
than the greatest of Greek or Roman " Praeparatores
Evangelii." " God is a Spirit," if interpreted in the language of
modern philosophy, amounts to this : " God is a
Person." I want to try this afternoon briefly to
emphasise this doctrine, and just to remind you of
what is involved in it. Proof of it, in any sense in
which proof can be offered, would involve too elabo
rate a philosophical argument for such an occasion
as this. But perhaps a mere glance at some of
the doctrines which it opposes may be the best
way of bringing out at once its meaning and its
reasonableness. There is a whole school of modern Philosophy
which, while using the name of God, repudiates the
idea of personality. And some of the Theologians
have, as it seems to me, prepared the way for those
who desire to evacuate the name of God of all
religious or ethical significance by insisting too un
guardedly on the doctrine of God's infinity. What
exactly was meant by infinity in the language of
orthodox Theology I will not now enquire ; but
there certainly is a sense in which this doctrine of
the infinity of God leads straight to conclusions from
which every Christian thinker must recoil. That
which is infinite, at least in one sense of the term,
must exclude nothing. If there is anything which
God is not, that by itself constitutes a limit. If
God is to be strictly infinite, there can be nothing
which He is not. I will not ask in what sense we
can speak of the world as being not God. From
the idealistic point of view the world may no doubt

SPIRITUAL THEISM 7
be regarded as the thought of God ; and the thought
of God is not outside Him. To say, therefore, that
the world is not outside God is a statement which
may be made without destroying His personality.'
But when we come to human souls the case is differ
ent. Certainly souls are not God. To say that they
are part of God is to my mind a statement which is
utterly and entirely without meaning, unless it is
intended to imply that God is nothing but a collec
tive name for the sum of individual minds. I know
that I am not anybody else. We must not be led
into the intricate and tangled controversy as to the
nature of self-hood. .But this much will, I think,
commend itself to all minds except those constitu
tionally incapable of grasping the idea of personality
— ^that the being "I" is inconsistent with being a mere
part of anything whatever. There may be degrees
of unity in consciousness. In certain diseased con
ditions the unity of self-consciousness may be indeed
wholly broken up into two or more consciousnesses.
But it is of the essence of self-hood to be a unity
which excludes the idea of existing as a mere part of
another thing or of another self What I feel or
think cannot actually be, though it may be like,
what any other spirit feels or thinks. No other
spirit, then, can be part of God. God is not you
or I, or all of us together. That the soul is derived
from God, made in the image of God, that it depends
for its very being from moment to moment upon God,
that the divine nature is more or less expressed in it,
that it is capable of intimate union with God — all
this Christian Theology has always asserted. If any-

8 SPIRITUAL THEISM
one likes to say that the soul is. an emanation from
God, that God is infused in a limited mode into the
human organism, or reproduces Himself in the human
soul, I do not know that there is any great objection
to such language, if physical metaphors like these
seem to anyone to make the matter clearer than the
simple, orthodox statement that souls were created
by, God. But if God is not to be made a merely
collective name, we are bound to hold that there is
something which God is not. Some people will,
perhaps, contend that this line of thought points to
a pre-existent and uncreated origin of souls." Such
an idea seems to me infinitely preferable to the pan
theistic confusion between God and man ; but for my
own part I see no insuperable difficulties — except the
difficulties which attend all attempts to think the
relation between time and eternity — to the ordinary
orthodox view that God limited Himself by the
creation of souls. That seems to be quite as in
telligible as the metaphors of emanation or infusion.
But the point which I want to insist on now is simply
this. If we admit that God is not any of the souls
which owe their being to Him, then in the strict and
philosophical sense of the word He is not infinite.
Mr. Schiller, the author of the Riddles of the Sphinx,
though few probably will be able to accept his system
as a whole, deserves, to my mind, immense gratitude
from all Christian Theologians for the logic and the
boldness with which he has ventured to maintain the
finitude of God. It is a question whether those who
wish to preserve the idea of personality in God and
man would not do well to follow his example. Once

SPIRITUAL THEISM 9
admit the infinity of God in what is, perhaps, the
most ordinary philosophic sense of the word, and it
follows that God can possess no personal conscious
ness ; for it is of the essence of personality to dis
tinguish oneself from other persons when once those
other persons are in existence.
And what after all is rational consciousness with
out personality ? Certainly there may be a con
sciousness below personality. We have reason to
believe that the consciousness of the animals is of
this nature, though even in the lowest animal con
sciousness there is something which excludes the
idea of being included as part of a whole in another
consciousness. To say that the most evanescent
sensation of an amoeba (if the amoeba really possesses
consciousnes.s) is part of the consciousness of some
other being is, as far as I can see, an absolutely
unmeaning assertion. Another being might have a
sensation like that of an amoeba ; in a sense he might
even know all that the amoeba feels and what it feels,
though for us at least there is no way of knowing
what others feel except through having ourselves felt
something like it. But the fullest knowledge of what
the amoeba feels would not make its feeling pass oyer
into the consciousness of the being that knew it.
The feeling of the amoeba must for ever* possess
* Here the Philosopher may object that whatever is real must be
eternal or (as some would say) out of time. Kant's doctrine of the
subjectivity of time is largely responsible for the tendency, firstly
to deny reality to anything but the All, and then practically to
resolve the All into a system of timeless relations. The best cure for
the error of identifying the real with the timeless is to be found in
Lotze's Chapter on Time in the Metaphysics. (Book II. chap, iii.)

IO SPIRITUAL THEISM
a being of its own. If you like to say that this
amounts to attributing a measure of personality to
whatever has consciousness, I do not much care if
it does. While it would be inconvenient to apply
the term personality to any degree of unity in con
sciousness lower than that which is attained by the
human soul, personality assuredly admits of degrees.
Just as there may be degrees of personality below
the human, just as there undoubtedly are degrees of
personality in the human consciousness — Socrates
was certainly more of a person than primitive man
—so there may be degrees of personality much
higher than the human. The difficulties of those
who, while fully believing in the existence of a
divine Mind; hesitate to attribute personality to Him,
seem to me to arise from the assumption that per
sonality implies not merely limitation but the precise
Hmitations which we find in the human soul, whose
knowledge comes to it piece by piece, advances to
truth through error, and is at the highest but a
partial knowledge of one small fragment of the
universe. If you like to speak of a consciousness
which is above personality there is no objection to
doing so, provided (i) you make it quite clear that
you do mean an actual consciousness not less distinct
from other centres of consciousness than our own,
and (2) that you do not, in getting rid of the term
"person," get rid of the idea of will, which is an
essential element in the highest idea of consciousness
as we know it. To represent the divine consciousness
as reason without will is to abstract from conscious
ness, as known to us, precisely the highest element

SPIRITUAL THEISM ii
in it, and then to hypostatise this perfectly unmean
ing abstraction. Every act of thought as we know
it implies an exercise of will as much as of reason.
In the words of Mr. Bosanquet, " Whenever we are
awake we are judging ; whenever we are awake we
are willing."* The will-less reason of some Hegelians
is as unmeaning a phrase as an unconscious will of
Schopenhauer, There have been undoubtedly Philosophers who
give a rather uncertain sound on this question of
God's personality without meaning to deny Him a
distinct self-consciousness. But with some of their
followers and disciples the case is different. In the
midst of the ambiguous phrases in which some
writers of this School have enveloped their thought
on this all - important subject, we may be really
thankful to Mr. Bosanquet for having told us in
plain language what he means, "While it appears
to me," he tells us, "that nothing is gained for the
interpretation of the world by the assumption of a
divine intelligence underlying it, it also appears that
beyond the abandonment of an otiose hypothesis
nothing is determined in the interpretation of the
world by surrendering this assumption." t He goes
on to explain that while the world must undoubtedly
be regarded as a machine, it is after all not at all
a bad sort of machine. It is desirable for ethical
purposes to assume that the machine is a good one,
and therefore it is rational to make the assumption.
• The Essentials of Logic, p. 40.
t The Permanent Meaning of the Argument from Design, in Pro
ceedings of the Aristotelian Society (1892), p. 44.

12 SPIRITUAL THEISM
How it is possible still to contend that the world is
rational, when Reason had nothing to do with the
making or the guiding of it ; how one can still be an
Idealist when one has given up believing in a Mind
for which and in which the world existed when
human souls were not ; how laws of nature (for that
is all that Mr. Bosanquet really means by God) can
without absolute materialism be supposed to exist
in a material universe, or how (if they are not proper
ties of a self-subsistent matter) they can exist in and
for themselves ; how again it is possible to take an
optimistic view of a purely mechanical universe —
these are problems which I will merely just com
mend to the attention of anyone who may have
more or less entered upon that line of thought with
out fully appreciating its inherent tendencies. That
Idealism, as understood by him, means pure Natur
alism Mr. Bosanquet would be the first to admit;
whether such Idealism is really Idealism any longer
I must not now enquire.
But there is another way of looking at the matter
which it will be instructive to notice. It is possible
to deny personality to God without admitting the
purely mechanical character of the universe. I must
not attempt to reproduce the brilliant, however
unsatisfying, argument by which another very dis
tinguished Oxford Philosopher* attempts to show that
neither matter as we know it, nor spirit as we know
it, can be regarded as possessing in the fullest sense
of the word reality. Knowledge, as we have it, he
argues, implies a distinction between subject and
* Mr, F. H. Bradley, in Appeararue and Reality. Ed. i. 1893.

SPIRITUAL THEISM 13
object which cannot belong to the ultimate nature
of things. All distinctions between subject and
predicate, between self and not self, between mind
and matter, between God and the world, are (we are
told) overcome and transcended in the Absolute.
Nothing is real except the whole. There is nothing
very original or novel in Spinozism or Averroism
such as this, though there is much that is original in
the method by which it is reached. But this attempt
to swallow up mind and matter in a reality which is
neither, is scarcely ever really consistent. The human
mind is very loath to commit intellectual suicide. It
really has no choice but to conceive of the ultimate
principle of things in terms of matter, or to conceive
of it in terms of mind. And the^ distinguished
writer to whom I am alluding, in spite of himself, is
constantly betraying the fact that he really does
think of the Absolute in terms of Mind. Unlike
many so-called Idealists, unlike some who use far
more spiritualistic, even more orthodox -sounding
language, we possess in him a real and determined
foe to Materialism. His own personal prejudice
against everything that ordinary people under
stand by Religion, his avowed and savage hatred
of Christianity, . cannot destroy, though it may
disguise, the value of the essential service which he
has thus rendered to the Christian Faith. Once
he even forgets himself so far as to attribute
a character to the Absolute — a very unamiable
character, it is true. The Absolute, it appears,
possesses a sense of humour, and the existence of
error in mankind is actually justified on the ground

14 SPIRITUAL THEISM
of the immense diversion which the spectacle of our
blunders and absurdities may possibly afford to this
same Absolute. Christians may indeed demur to a
Philosopher attributing to his philosophic Divinity
the truculent ferocity of a Moloch ; but assuredly
they cannot complain that this newest substitute for
the God of Christendom is not a deity of a sufficiently
anthropomorphic type.*
But now let me go on to notice what is the practical
consequence of these metaphysical speculations as to
the nature of God. To show you what is the conse
quence in a clear-sighted man of denying the Christian
doctrine of God may perhaps be the best way of
indicating its practical religious import.
" Most of those who insist on what they call ' the
personality of God,' " says the writer whom I have
just quoted, "are intellectually dishonest. They
* Lest I should be suspected of misrepresenting Mr. Bradley, I give
the passage in full : —
' ' I confess that I shrink from using metaphors, since they never can
suit wholly. The writer tenders them unsuspiciously as a possible help
in a common difficulty. And so he subjects himself, perhaps, to the
captious ill-will or sheer negligence of his reader. Still to those who
virill take it for what it is, I will offer a fiction. Suppose a collection
of beings whose souls in the night walk about without their bodies,
and so make new relations. On their return in the morning we may
imagine that the possessors feel the benefit of this divorce ; and we may
therefore call it truth. But, if the wrong soul with its experience came
back to the wrong body, that might typify error. On the other hand,
perhaps the ruler of this collection of beings may perceive very well the
nature of the collision. And it may even be that he provokes it. For
how instructive and how amusing to observe in each case the conflict of
sensation ^ith imported and foreign experience. Perhaps no truth
after all could be half so rich and half so true as the result of this wild
discord — to one who sees from the centre." {Ib. p. 194.)

SPIRITUAL THEISM 15
desire one conclusion, and, to reach it, they argue for
another. But the second, if proved, is quite different,
and serves their purpose only because they obscure
it and confound it with the first. And it is by their
practical purpose that the result may here be judged.
This Deity, which they want, is of course finite, a
person much like themselves, with thoughts and
feelings limited and mutable in the process of time.
They desire a person in the sense of a self, amongst
and over against other selves, moved by personal
relations and feelings towards these others — feelings
and relations which are altered by the conduct of the
others." *
Now a great part of this account may be ac
cepted without scruple. Our author has nothing to
say against it except that it is of course absurd, and
that it is beneath him to discuss the matter with
anyone who can hold it— with such a man for instance
as Lotze, we may suppose. But it may be well to
point out the ingenious way in which our great
malleus theologorum has contrived to mix up a
perfectly sound and reasonable doctrine which all
-Christians hold with one which they would in
dignantly repudiate.
In the first place we may protest altogether
against the attempt to get rid of Theism by merely
throwing in our teeth the difficulties creaited by the
relation of Time to Eternity. In a sense no doubt
God must be conceived of as above, if not out of
time: so much Theologians have generally taught,
• Appearance and Reality, p. 532.

i6 SPIRITUAL THEISM
though (if they are wise) they go on to admit that to
the idea of timeless or (better) of super-temporal
existence- we can attach no definite meaning. It
is safest to content ourselves with saying that God's
relation to the time-process cannot be the same as
our relation to it. In any case, the difficulties pre
sented by the relation of a timeless God to a series
of events in time are no greater on our view of
God's nature than are the relations of the Absolute
to finite realities, or parts or aspects of Reality, upon
our critic's view of the nature of the Absolute.
Secondly, a word as to the mutability of God. I
see no reason why a Theist should not cordially
accept the position, "The Deity is finite (in our
author's sense), a self, amongst and over against
other selves." And that relation of other selves to
God can only be envisaged after the analogy of the
relation between two human selves. It must be
represented so, or we must do without any idea
whatever of a spiritual relation between God and
the ultimate principle of things, which not even our
critic is willing to do, for he is very anxious to be
reconciled with his Absolute. If we are to represent
God as occupying any spiritual relation towards man,
we cannot help representing this attitude towards us
as dependent upon the varying thoughts, feelings, and
actions of our souls. And these thoughts, feelings,
and actions are admittedly in time. But, to say
nothing of modern Theologians, the old Hebrew
Prophets, to whom we so largely owe this precious
doctrine of the personality of God, were quite aware
that such language must not be understood to imply

SPIRITUAL THEISM 17
real changes of purpose in God. " I am the Lord, I
change not." All the successive events of the world's
history must be regarded as so many expressions of
a single Will or Purpose or Character, a character
which in the New Testament is represented to us as
a consistent and changeless Love.*
The wrath of God against sin is as changeless as
His Love, of which indeed it is but one side or aspect.
To represent God as " moved by personal relations
and feelings towards other selves — feelings and rela
tions which are altered by the conduct of the others "
may be a very inadequate representation of. the real
nature of God ; but at least we feel sure that it
expresses more of the truth than any attempt to
get at the nature of God by eliminating from our
conception of Him all that involves relation to other
selves. We think of God best by likening Him to
what is highest within our knowledge. To deprive
God of personality, to deprive Him of relation to
others, .is to deprive Him both of knowledge and of
love. For the clearness with which he has demon
strated the inevitable tendency of a line of thought,
which has often attracted even Christian minds, we
cannot be too grateful to the distinguished thinker
whom I have ventured to criticise.
And perhaps we ought to be thankful also if these
unfriendly criticisms should lead us to ask more
* When we attempt to represent to ourselves this Will, we necessarily
conceive of Him as a Being persisting throughout a succession of
changing states, states which vary as our attitude towards Him varies.
That representation no doubt fells short of the reality— how far, in
what way, we do not know. That perhaps we could only know by
getting out of our own relation to time and into God's.
C

i8 SPIRITUAL THEISM
seriously than we are apt to do whether the idea of
worship sometimes avowed by Christians does not at
times lay itself open to such caricatures as that which
I have quoted to you.
In the words of our text the truth about God is
made the basis of a truth about worship. Because
God is a Spirit, those who worship Him must worship
Him in spirit and in truth. Our worship must be
worthy of our conception of God's nature. Our
worship must not be such worship as is implied by
the idea that a prayer would be effectual in Jerusalem
which would have been offered in vain at Gerizim —
valid if offered in this form, by this official, in this
church, invalid if offered otherwise. Worship must
consist in the effort of the human spirit to identify
itself with the Divine — not in mystical, self-destroy
ing unity, but in the direction of its desires, its
aspirations, its will. Formal worship, public or
private, can be only a means to bringing about this
conformity of the will, and therefore of the life, to
God's Will. Simple as this principle is, admitted as
it is in form by Theologians of every school, it is
often forgotten, as it seems to me, in the common
objections to prayer and worship, and not sufficiently
remembered in the common apologies for them. In
worship we are not seeking to effect a change in the
Will of God. In that sense indeed we do repel the
charge that we treat God as mutable. We seek to
change only our disposition towards Him, and to
bring our souls into a state of conformity with His
Will. Upon the state of our souls and our wills
depends the character of our lives, and the course

SPIRITUAL THEISM 19
of events in the world outside us. Prayer, there
fore, must be effectual. It is matter of experience
that such deliberate efforts, on the part of individuals
and of societies, do powerfully assist in bringing the
will in conformity with the All-perfect Will. It is
one great organ or channel or occasion, if we cannot
venture to say that it is the only occasion, of God's
self-revelation to the individual soul. Worship, there
fore, is necessary. Its form may change, but some
form of it is an eternal demand of the human soul.
And once again the worship of a God who is a
Spirit must be in truth. Our worship must conform
to our best intellectual conceptions about God and
His Will. We have reason to believe, for instance
(though I for one cannot recognise any necessity of
thought for believing), that God works by general
laws.* We ought not, therefore, to seek — it is better,
* This does not exclude the possibility of abnormal or even unique
events, due to abnormal or even unique results of law, known or
unknown. The truth is, we know too little of the relations of mind
and organism to draw a sharp line between the natural and the super
natural in this sphere. Recorded instances of abnormal control by
mind over the processes of physical nature must be accepted or rejected
in accordance with the evidence, but the evidence required to establish
them is less or greater according to the degree of their departure from
the known analogies of nature. I believe that those commonly called
miracles, which are of most religious importance — the general fact that
Christ cured disease by spiritual influence and the Resurrection Vision —
are precisely those for which well-established analogies are strongest.
Given an exceptional personality, there is no reason against the belief
that His power over nature m.ay have been exceptional also; but
such a power need not necessarily "violate the laws of nature" if
the ordinary facts of volitional activity do not violate them. The
treatment of the miraculous element in the Christian history with
which I feel most in sympathy is that of Mr. Frederick Myers'
most suggestive criticism on Renan in his Modern Essays.

20 SPIRITUAL THEISM
as far as we can, to avoid language which implies
that we seek — to change that course of nature in the
physical universe, or even to ask God to work
miracles in the moral universe. If we were a little
bolder in proclaiming distinctly what worship is
not, we should, perhaps, find men more willing to
appreciate what it really is, and to make the sacrifice
of time and ease and inclination which is demanded
by this great task — the training of our wills in
association with our brethren for the doing of God's
Will in the inner and the outer life.

II.
THE HOLY TRINITY
Preached in Balliol College Chapel, Trinity Sunday, 1894.
" He shall take of mine, and shall shew it unto you.''
John xvi. 15.
•"T^HE Holy Ghost is the love wherewith the
-L Father loves the Son and the Son the
Father."* Such is the teaching of St. Augustine,
* The Holy Spirit is shown to be " quo genitus a genitante diligatur
genitoremque suum diligat." — De Trin., vi. 5. (Cf. De Fide et
symbolo, 19, 20, and De Civ. Dei, xi., c. 26, where the parallel between
the Divine Trinity and the human mind is insisted on : " Nam et sumus
et nos esse novimus et id esse et nosse diligimus.") St. Augustine is,
no doubt, anxious to show that in God "dilectio" is a " substantia,"
because in God there is no distinction between substance and accident.
This is, of course, a realistic technicality to which it is difficult for
the modern mind to attach much meaning, though; no doubt, parallels
might be found in modern metaphysicians. To understand the
scholastic doctrine of the Trinity it is further necessary to remember
that the love of the Father for the Son is really the love of God(^
for the objects of His own thought, i.e., for His creatures. "Verbum
igitur in mente conceptum est reprsesentativum omnis ejus quod actu
intelligitur. Unde in nobis sunt diversa verba, secundum diversa quae
intelligimus. Sed quia Deus uno actu et se et omnia intelligit, unicum
Verbum ejus est expressivum non solum Patris, sed etiam creaturarum."
(Summa Theol., Pt. I. Q. xxxiv. Art. 3.) When, therefore, some modern
Divines talk about an intercourse or society subsisting between the
Father and the Son, meaning by the Son a conscious being, distinct alike .
from God, the world, and the "assumptus homo," Jesus Christ, they are
21

22 THE HOLY TRINITY
and the doctrine is repeated by the great schoolmen
in a more general form : " The love by which we love
using language which an orthodox scholastic Theologian would probably
have pronounced to be sheer Tritheism. It is true that the Scholastics
speak of a "relatio" between the Persons of the Holy Trinity (?.^., a
relation between the Power of God, the Wisdom of God, and His Love
or Will), but they do not forget that "relatio in Deo sit idem quod sua
essentia." Anyone who thinks that the doctrine here maintained is
Sabellianism should read Pt. I. Q. xxviii. of the Summa. Stripped of
technicalities, the Catholic doctrine differs from Sabellianism inasmuch
as it asserts (i.) that these diff'erent activities are essential to God's nature,
not appearances or modes which can be put on or off, and (ii.) that the
Incarnation implies an indwelling of the Sapientia Dei in a human soul,
but not that Christ was simply God (the whole Trinity) in a human
body — carrying with it (as the Patripassians held) the consequence that
the Father died upon the cross. All the difficulties of the doctrine of
the Trinity have arisen from thinking of that relation between God and
the pre-existing Logos as if it were of exactly the same kind as the
relation between God and the Incarnate Son. Of course (if we like to
eliminate the element of time) we may think of God as having an
eternal relation to the man Jesus Christ even before his actual birth,
and the idea of the pre-existence of Christ (not merely the Logos) in
the form in which it appears in the New Testament seems to have
arisen out of the strong conviction that the coming of the Messiah was
part of the eternal counsel of God — the central event of the world-plan
as it existed in the mind of God. For an admirable discussion of this
question see Beyschlag, New Test. Theology (E. T., 1895), I. p.
249 J?-, IL P- 79 -fg-
The doctrine of the Trinity, thus understood, is not a mere
scholastic subtlety. It asserts just the essence of Christian Theism,
i.e., that God is not mere Power or mere Thought or mere Love, but
the three combined. It is not surprising to find a learned and candid
I Unitarian Divine acknowledging that " there were certain elements in
Christian experience which, when taken up and interpreted by Greek
philosophy, necessarily resulted in this doctrine ; and though we may
believe that the form and the terminology of the doctrine were derived
from a. foreign source, we may nevertheless admit the reality of
fundamental Christian facts which imparted to it all its religious
vitality." (Drummond, 'Via, Veritas, Vita, p. 203.) In the passage
which follows Dr. Drummond seems to state the heart of the
Trinitarian doctrine, though I do not, of course, mean to assent to

THE HOLY TRINITY 23
God and our neighbour is the Holy Ghost,"* they
say. These dicta are, I think, by themselves enoughs
to show you that when the Fathers or the Schoolmen/
spoke of a Trinity of Persons in the Unity of thel
Godhead, they used the word " Person " in a sense
very different from its usual modern acceptation. It
would be meaningless to call the love of one being!
for another a person in our modern sense of the']
word. Thomas Aquinas explains the terms "Persona" \
by " Proprietas " : he speaks indifferently of " tres
Personae " or " tres proprietates." By " proprietates "
we may, perhaps, understand three distinct and
essential properties or powers or activities or modes
of existence.
But I will not lead you any further into the mazes
of the Scholastic Theology. I only want just to
point out what I do think requires at the present day
to be stated in the plainest and most unmistakable
language, that those who framed what are still the
accepted orthodox formulae on this great subject did
not mean by Person what nine-tenths of those who
have to-day repeated the Athanasian Creed naturally
enough suppose it to mean. I am afraid that most
people — at least in their orthodox moments, when
they are trying to realize to themselves the doctrine ofj^
the Holy Trinity — think of the three Persons as thre^"
distinct beings, three consciousnesses, three mindsl
everything in his book. Catholic doctrine does not become Unitarianism
because it is implicitly or explicitly held by some who call themselves
Unitarians. * Pktrus Lombardus, Sententiae, Lib. L, i., Dist. XVII. So
St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theol., Pt. I,, Q. xxxvii.

24 THE HOLY TRINITY
three wills. Nothing less than that could be implied
if by Person were meant anything like what is meant
by it in ordinary discourse. I trust I have said
enough to show that, whatever be the exact shade
of meaning which this highly technical expression
bore to those who first introduced it, it certainly did
not mean that. And when this admission is made,
it further becomes evident that if the doctrine of the
Holy Trinity is to have any real meaning or import
ance to us at the present day, it is much in need
of a little translation into the language and thought
qf the present day.
Technicalities apart, the essence of the doctrine of
the Holy Trinity is surely this — that God reveals
Himself, that it is His nature eternally to reveal
Himself His revelation of Himself did not begin
with the coming of Christ. Creation is itself in a
sense a revelation of God, an embodiment of His
thought. "AU things were made," says St. John,
"through or by means of the Word or Reason of
God." In a much higher sense God was revealed
in the growing intellect and conscience of mankind :
" In Him was life, and the life was the light of men."
In all the long course of moral and intellectual
development which preceded the coming of Christ
the eternal Word of God was communicating or
revealing God to man, most clearly and fully no
doubt (in the moral and spiritual sphere) to the
later Jewish prophets, but (as the greatest of the
Christian Fathers always recognised) not by any
means to them alone. Yet all previous revelations
of God were but broken and imperfect revelations.

THE HOLY TRINITY 25
The Revelation had been made, as the author of
the Epistle to the Hebrews puts it, ¦jroAu^tepwy koi
TToXi/T/ooTTwy — "in divers portions and in divers
manners" — till in the end of these days God spake
to man by His Son.* In the life and teaching and
character of Christ the mind, the will, the character
of God was revealed as it had never been revealed
before. . And in one sense that revelation was final.
But it wanted to be brought home to the minds
and consciences of man ; it wanted to be continually
applied to the changing needs and aspirations of
each successive age. And, when we say that we
believe in, the Holy Spirit, we say that we believe
that God is still revealing Himself; that God is
still in contact with the human spirit ; that God
is still making Himself known in the great move
ments of action and of thought, of history and of
literature, and in the secret depths of individual souls.
There will always, no doubt, to the Christian con
sciousness be an essential difference between the
revelations which preceded and those which follow
the coming of Christ. For the Christian conscious
ness all that can be revealed to man now, in the
strictly moral and religious sphere, can be only a
development — a bringing out of what is latent in
the teaching and character of Christ. It is but a
taking of Christ's, and a showing unto us. Every
improvement that has taken place, whether in the
acknowledged moral standard or in the operative
ideal of successive ages, seems to us so plainly
written in the teaching of Christ, that each age
* Hebrews i. i.

26 THE HOLY TRINITY
marvels how men can ever have called themselves
Christians and yet not have seen it there. The
Revelation made in Christ is inexhaustible; but there
were many things which the world to which Christ
came could not hear or see in it then. It is only
the continued working of God's Spirit in the souls
of men that could bring to men's remembrance all
that the historic Christ implicity had said. The
Christian Revelation was final, just because it con
tained in itself the germ of all future development ;
just because it possessed, and still possesses, the
capacity of taking up into itself, and transforming
and harmonising, all that is permanent and essential
in other revelations.
God is Power, and God is Wisdom, and God is
Will — that is the recognised scholastic explanation
of the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. Or, since the
Will of God is always a loving Will, the Schoolmen
tell us the Holy Spirit may indifferently be spoken
of as Will or as Love ; from the union of Power and
Wisdom in God's nature there proceeds a loving Will.
God is Power and Wisdom and Love. God is
I revealed fully and perfectly in Christ. God is reveal-
ling Himself ever more and more perfectly in the
/souls of men. That is the sum and substance of
the doctrine of the Holy Trinity as defined by
the most unimpeachable exponents of orthodox
Theology. And if there are other parts of the
technical formulae on this subject whic^'we find
strange, or arbitrary, or unintelligible, let us solace
ourselves with the avowal of the really great Old
Catholic Theologian, Dr. Dollinger : —

THE HOLY TRINITY 27
"Few people here" (he says in reply to the '
question whether he attached the same extreme
importance which some people do in England to
the Athanasian Creed)— "few people here would
insist on rigid agreement with formulas in a matter
of such inscrutable mystery as the Trinity, In
some particulars it is impossible to know the
meaning of the terms used. The most subtle
philosopher and the most profound Theologian
cannot explain the difference between ' generation '
and ' procession ' in the ' generation of the Son '
and the ' procession of the Spirit.' " *
The doctrine of the Holy Trinity is not an un
practical doctrine without meaning or importance
for us at the present day. It brings before us in
close connexion the two great aspects of the divine
self-revelation. It is, as it seems to me, of almost
equal practical importance that we should try to
appreciate and appropriate to ourselves all that God
once said to the world by His Son, and that we
should not close our ears to what the Spirit is saying/
to the Churches in our own day. It is of almost
equal importance for the illumination of our own
souls and the guidance of our own lives, that we
should seek to realize and to keep ever present to
our minds a true and living image of the historic
* "Recollections of Dr. Dollinger," by Alfred Plummer, D.D.,
'^Expositor, Ser. iv., vol. i. (1890), pp. 425, 426. By Aquinas, Summa
Theol., Pt. I., Q. xxvii., the " generatio " of the Word is actually spoken
of as a "processio," and in the Sentences of Peter the Lombard
(Lib. I., Dist. xiii.) there is a section showing "quod non potest
distingui a, nobis inter generationem Filii et processiocem Spiritus
Sancti."

28 THE HOLY TRINITY
Son of God, and that we should recognise as a
revelation of the Spirit of God all that is true and
noble in the thoughts and ideas and spiritual achieve
ments of other ages, and not least of our own.
The fact is, it is impossible to understand what
that great historic revelation of God in Christ means
to us, except in the light of the continuous revelation
of the Spirit. The historic revelation can never
mean to us exactly what it meant to any former age ;
no two ages in the past have ever interpreted it
exactly alike. There is a danger lest it should cease
to mean anything at all to us, unless we do con
stantly seek to reinterpret it to ourselves in the light
of present-day knowledge and experience. And is
it superfluous to remind ourselves that to do this
demands, on our part, a little effort and a little
trouble? It does require an effort to understand
what Christianity means to us at the present day.
It demands effort of other kinds — effort in prayer
and effort in life: the effort to wiU and to do the
truth that we possess. But, all-important as the
moral effort is, to understand Christianity demands
also intellectual effort. It does require a good deal
of effort, I know, side by side with studies which
may seem to have very little relation to such
matters, to undertake however little reading of a
theological or religious kind. And yet if we take
a sufficiently large and liberal view of what is meant
by Theology, Theology ought not merely to be
looked upon as a merely professional study, as a
specialism with which a well-educated Christian
man can afford to be wholly unacquainted. By

THE HOLY TRINITY 29
Theology we mean the intellectual appreciation of
religious truth in its relation to other branches of
knowledge. Knowledge progresses ; and Theology
must progress with it, or become a mere fossil
Science. Theology must be progressive, both in
the world at large and in each individual mind.
No two ages at different levels of intellectual de
velopment can ever think exactly alike about
Religion. Nor can the religious ideas of the man
be exactly those of the child. Now in this place
our knowledge, our ideas on all other subjects are,
or ought to be, growing and expanding. Can we
reasonably expect that our Religion should retain
the place it ought to have in our thoughts and in
our lives if we do nothing to add to our faith
knowledge? Sooner or later we must come to
outlive the Theology of the nursery. Are we doing
anything to fill its place?
" Duly, daily, needs provision be
For keeping the soul's prowess possible,
Building new barriers as the old decay,
Saving us from evasion of life's proof,
Putting the question ever ' Does God love,
And vi^ill ye hold that truth against the world.' "*
For those who have little leisure for such studies,
and who have no intention of becoming Theologians,
it is npt always, of course, the more technical kind of
theological writing that will be found most stimulat
ing ; though one may perhaps be allowed to regret
that a knowledge of the elementary facts about New
* Browning, A Death in the Desert.

30 THE HOLY TRINITY
Testament criticism, as much knowledge (say) as an
average classical student thinks it necessary to pos
sess about the Homeric question, should not be more
common than it is even among highly cultivated
men. I believe that a little such knowledge is a very
real help even to the spiritual comprehension of the
New Testament. But even for the fruitful under
standing of the New Testament some of us have
found such a book as Ecce Homo, or some more
modern work on the life and teaching of Christ, of
more help than many commentaries. And some of
the best Theology of the day must be sought for in
books which would not usually be called Theology
at all. The living and moving ideas of those who
have most powerfully and fruitfully influenced the
religious thought of our own time, or at least of the
generation just gone by — the ideas of men like
Maurice and Kingsley, of Frederick Robertson and
Arnold — may be gathered from their Biographies
almost better than from their writings.
There is Theology in Kingsley's novels and New
man's poetry, as well as in their sermons. It is no
vague or emasculate Theology, again, that has found
expression in the poetry of Tennyson and of Brown
ing. But if our belief in the Holy Spirit is to be a
really vital belief, if it is to correspond with the facts
of history and the experience of life, we must recog
nise that the Spirit of God has spoken much in these
latter days through voices which are not professedly
Christian at all. Those who believe that Jesus Christ
lis in a unique sense the Son of God — the brightness
iof his Father's glory and the express image of his

THE HOLY TRINITY 31
Person — must no doubt regard the ideal embodied in
him as the norm or criterion by which to test all
other theories of conduct, all ideals of life, all schemes
of social regeneration. By, that canon we shall try
the Spirits, whether they be of God. But prophets
cannot be divided into true and false so easily as we
are apt to imagine was the case in days gone by. We
cannot help recognising that God has had something
to say to this generation, as to other generations, by
the mouth of people whose thoughts and whose
characters were not wholly conformed to the mind of
Christ. To many Carlyle has no doubt proved a true
prophet of God, in spite of his essentially pagan
hero-worship and his loveless temper. Everyone
recognises the high Christian teaching in the novels
of George Eliot, if we may occasionally feel in her
writings the void background of Materialism. Again,
at the present day we often see the social side, at
least, of Christian Ethics both preached and practised
by men whose religious views we may detest, and
whose social schemes we may distrust, with an
earnestness and a self-denial which have often been
lacking within the pale of formal Christianity. It
is by strange methods and strange voices that the
Christian Church has sometimes been led to the
understanding of her own creed. The Spirit bloweth
where it listeth. The Spirit of God moves not only
upon the sails of the Church's ship, but also upon
the chaotic waters of human life around. The Spirit
takes of Christ's and shows it unto men by other
organs than by that of his Church. It is the Church's
mission ultimately to absorb into herself and to make

32 THE HOLY TRINITY
her own all that the Spirit shall teach by whatever
organ He may speak.
And what is the Church's mission collectively is
really in its measure the task of each one of us as
a member of that Church. Each one of us has to
build up for the illuminating of his own individual
soul, and then to live out, what is really a Theology.
A man's Theology is his theory of the universe.
And our ideal of life ought surely to rest upon a
theory of some kind — vague and dim and inarticulate
as it must needs be for many in these days. The
man without a Theology is in danger of becoming
a man without an ideal.

III.
LIMITATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE IN
CHRIST,*
Preached before the University of Cambridge,
December 23rd, 1889.
" Have this mind in you, which was also in Christ Jesus : who, being
in the form of God, counted it not a prize to be on an equality with
God, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being
made in the likeness of men." — Philippians ii. 5, 6. (R.V.)
IN these verses an aspect of our Lord's Incarnation
is brought before us, which it is, if I mistake not,
of especial importance to insist upon at the present
day. It is a well-recognised fact that in the early
Church as many heresies arose from an unwillingness
* Since this Sermon was written the question has been brought into
prominence by Canon Gore in Lux Mundi (1889), in his Bampton
Lectures, The I-ncamation ofthe Son of God {l8gi) ; and in the learned
Dissertations on subjects connected with the Incarnation (1895). The
Bishop of Manchester has also dealt with the subject in the Teaching
of Christ (1891) — a little book which contains more of the best results
of modem theological thought and investigation in a smaller compass
than any book with which I am acquainted. Had these works already
appeared, I might have spoken less apologetically, though (as will be
seen from the Sermon) I hold that in certain directions the theory of
limitation in our Lord's knowledge must be carried further than Canon
Gore would admit.
D 33

34 LIMITATIONS OF
to admit the reality of our Lord's human nature as
from unwillingness to admit the reality of his God
head. At the present day Christians rightly regard
the Divinity of Christ as the very core and centre
of the Christian Faith ; and the jealousy with which
we habitually guard this fundamental doctrine, the
suspicion with which we view any uncertainty of
utterance or laxity of statement thereupon, the
knowledge that it is just at this point that the great
gulf is fixed between those who regard Christianity
as a divine revelation adapted to the wants of all
nations and of all time, and those who look upon
it as merely one of the many forms in which the
religious idea has from time to time historically em
bodied itself — all these causes have combined to
make us somewhat afraid of insisting upon the com
plementary truth of the real humanity. Even in
those parts of the New Testament Canon whose
Christology is least explicit, Jesus is habitually
spoken of in a way quite inconsistent with a belief,
on the part of the writers, that he was a mere man.
But, side by side with the passages which accord
to Christ an exceptional nature and position, we
meet with expressions and modes of speech which
many a modern preacher would hesitate to use with
out qualification or explanation. A modern preacher
or writer who should speak of our Lord (as he spoke
of Himself) as one among the prophets, or who
should employ some nineteenth century equivalent for
St. Peter's phrase, "Jesus, a man approved of God,"
without balancing his statement by some higher
theological formula, would be in some danger

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 35
of losing his reputation for orthodoxy. Still more
apparent is this caution or timidity about emphasising
the human side of our Lord's nature when we
examine the inferences which are drawn by popular
Theology from the fact of our Lord's Divinity and
the explanations which are given in orthodox com
mentaries of those passages of the Gospels or the
Epistles in which limitations to our Lord's power
or knowledge seemed to be hinted at. At the present
day we no longer, indeed, find that difficulty in
admitting the reality of our Lord's sufferings which
lay at the root of Gnosticism and so many early
forms of heresy. The reality of our Lord's human
body and of all those mental affections or passions
which spring most directly from the conditions of the
bodily organism — the reality of pain, of sorrow,
of human affection, of loneliness, of bodily weakness
and weariness in Jesus Christ — the reality of all
these attributes of his human nature has been
branded into the popular religious consciousness by
their intimate connexion with the doctrine of the
Atonement. On the emotional side our Lord's
humanity is accepted without difficulty and without
scruple. But in the current ideas about the intellectual
part of our Lord's nature does not the notion of a
human brain, a growing and expanding human in
telligence, a human reason, tend very much to drop
out of sight? Is there not, in short, a good deal
of latent ApoUinarianism in orthodox popular teach
ing upon this matter ?
The proper corrective of such a one-sided view of
our blessed Lord's nature seems to me to be to insist

36 LIMITATIONS OF
upon the Pauline doctrine of the Kevwarn* or self-
emptying of the Son, which is brought before us in
these verses. " He emptied Himself." Of what did
he empty Himself? The only clue which we have
to St. Paul's thought on this matter is contained in
the immediately preceding words, "Who, being in
the form of God, thought it not a thing to be clutched
at to be equal with God, dut emptied Himself."
It is, indeed, difficult to say whether as a matter of
pure exegesis we should hold that when the fiop<pri
of the slave was assumed, the fxop(}>ri of God was
temporarily laid aside, put (so to speak) into abey
ance. But at all events we may fairly represent the
thought of the passage by saying that when the
Eternal Wisdom, the Eternal Thought, the Eternal
Word of God was united with a human soul,
some at least of the divine attributes — though not
lost — ceased to be manifested in the man Christ
Jesus. Of what attributes of Godhead then was the
Incarnate Word divested ? Certainly of the divine
Omnipresence. That surely is implied in the very
idea of Incarnation. The ubiquity of our Lord's
Human Body or Human Nature has never (I believe)
been entertained except as a support for the Lutheran
doctrine of Consubstantiation. Hardly less certainly ,
* I do not mean to identify myself with any of the later technical
theories usually known as "kenotic." Many of them seem either to
imply an actual demission (so to speak) of Godhead which is unintelli
gible, or to imply that the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, prior to
and independently of the Incarnation, is to be regarded as possessing
knowledge and reason of His own distinct from that of the Father, a
doctrine which is happily as unorthodox as it is irrational. (See above
Sermon ii. )

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 37
did the Incarnate Word empty Himself of the Divine
Omnipotence. Omnipotence is not compatible with
the form of a slave. I suppose that this will on
reflection be admitted by everyone. Limitation
surely is essential to the very idea of humanity.
It is scarcely possible to assign any real meaning
to the humanity of our Lord Jesus Christ if we do
not recognise that by acceptance of our human
nature the divine power and nature were defined,
conditioned, limited. The miracles recorded in the
Gospels do not prove Omnipotence, though they do
prove the possession of more than the normal control
of the human will over the processes of physical
nature. We must remember, moreover, that the niiracles
which are usually regarded as the most striking
manifestations of Divine Power are more often
ascribed directly to the Father than to the will of
the Incarnate Son. " Him God raised up " appears
to have been the earliest and most usual form of the
apostolic proclamation.
Weiss, indeed, assumes as a universal principle
that our Lord only worked miracles when he
felt within Him that it was the Father's will to
work them.* This seems to me much more than we
can possibly know. But certainly Christ's works of
healing would to some minds lose much of their
naturalness — they would constitute a far less touch
ing manifestation of tender, human affection than
they do now, if we were forced to believe that in that
human soul which felt sympathy with the sufferer,
* Lifetif Christ (E. T.), p. 195.

38 LIMITATIONS OF
and felt the power to relieve his pain, there was also
all the while the consciousness of capacity to bring
to an end by one word of power all the sufferings of
all humanity. Undoubtedly we are here touching
upon the fringe of that one great insoluble enigma —
the mystery of pain, the mystery of evil. But it is
just because it does so much to facilitate the belief
that the universe has its origin in, and is governed
by an unseen Love,' that the Godhead of Christ is so
unspeakably precious to us ; and I confess that the
Love which the Incarnation proclaims to us would
become to me less real a thing if I did not believe
that in the assumption of our humanity there was
a real self-emptying — not a continued voluntary non-
exercise, but a real surrender — of divine power in (to
use the technical language of Theology) the "man
assumed." " He emptied himself," then, of Omnipotence.
Must we not also say -of Omniscience ? Here we
confront one of the great qucestiones vexatcz of
orthodox Theology. The great Greek Fathers, with
their philosophical education, for the most part
recognise the existence of ignorance in the human
soul of Christ. Augustine and some other Latin
Fathers unfortunately took the other side, and to
save our Lord's omniscience practically impeached
His veracity. In spite of the text, " Of that day and
that hour knoweth no man, neither the Son nor the
Father," they maintained that even as man He really
did know, but thought it inexpedient to tell, the
date of the Judgment. The question was still more
explicitly discussed in the medieval Schools, especially

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 39
in that golden age of medieval thought, the twelfth
century. Although the authorities which have domi
nated the after course of dogmatic thought in both
the Roman and the Anglican Churches have mostly
decided that the Incarnate Son, even in his human
consciousness, enjoyed the perfection of divine know
ledge, it has generally been considered a perfectly
orthodox opinion to maintain the contrary. But it
is obvious that the difficulty was one which could
not be felt in medieval times as it is felt to-day. In
the Middle Ages the question was in the main one
of mere speculative curiosity. That the Galilean
carpenter, Jesus of Nazareth, should have possessed
a mind stored with the answers to the questions of
Physics and Metaphysics which were debated by the
medieval doctors — this was, indeed, a supposition
which postulated an enormous miracle : but miracle
as such was no difficulty to the medieval mind, and
the supposition was one which, in the then state of
human knowledge, hardly involved any intrinsic con
tradiction or impossibility. When the Bible and the
Sentences, Boethius and Aristotle, the Canon Law
and the Civil Law, Hippocrates and Galen made up
between them nearly all the ultimate sources of the
secular knowledge that the human mind was thought
capable of attaining, the omne scibile could hardly be
said to lie beyond the reach of conceivable attainment
for an extraordinarily gifted individual.* At least
* Albert the Great explicitly defends the Omniscience of the Mother
of Christ by proving in detail that she must have known the Trivium
and Quadrivium, the Science of Medicine, the Civil and Canon Law,
the Bible and Sentences. (Opera, Lugduni, 1651, T. xx. p. 80.)

40 LIMITATIONS OF
the difficulty was fairly met by adopting the distinction
between implicit and explicit knowledge, and ascribing
to the Incarnate Son at least an implicit Omniscience.
But, now that all the books which can be read
in the longest of human lives are but a thousandth
or a millionth part of the books in which acquired
knowledge is stoted — now that the idea of finality in
philosophical, or political, or scientific conceptions
has been supplanted by the idea of indefinite pro
gress — now that this enormously augmented mass of
accumulated knowledge is felt to represent but a few
pebbles picked up on the shores of an ocean of Truth,
infinite and unexplored — in presence of this expanded
view of the all which there is to know, the difficulty
which the medieval thinker disposed of by a "dis-
tinctio" and a "convenienter" weighs with far more
terrific force upon minds that would fain reconcile
enlarged conceptions of the universe with the accep
tance of an historical Christianity.
So long as we confine ourselves to the region of
scientific knowledge there will, I imagine, be little
difficulty in admitting that the knowledge possessed
by the man Christ Jesus was limited. It is when we
come to the region of religious knowledge, or (more
properly speaking) to the points of contact between
religious questions and questions of Science or His
tory or literary criticism that the difficulty becomes
most serious. I know that I am here approach
ing the .region of impenetrable mystery. Mystery
undoubtedly must be admitted to be inherent in any
conception of a divine-human nature. Most of us,
I imagine, would wish that some even of those ques-

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 41
tions of Christology, upon which the early Councils
undertook to decide with legal rather than philo
sophical precision, had been allowed to remain open
questions, however entirely we may feel that, if the
questions must be raised and must be decided, the
Catholic answer to them is the most logical one.
Still more often repellent to the natural instinct
alike of reverence and of good sense are some of
the later scholastic definitions about the Holy
Trinity and the Incarnation, however great their
superiority in intellectual strength to the treatment
which such questions receive in many of the books
which do duty for treatises of dogmatic Theology
among ourselves. An attitude of reverent agnostic
ism upon such questions is the attitude which will
often commend itself to our minds as at once the
safest and the most rational. But there seem to be
very pressing reasons why this particular question
of the knowledge of Jesus Christ should be raised,
and why the kenotic view (as I believe it is called)
of our Lord's Incarnation should be not merely
admitted, but insisted upon and emphasised.
The difficulties that are felt about the evidence for
miracles the moment the question is abstracted from
the unique personality of Christ, the changes which
have taken place in the views of all intelligent men
about the inspiration of Scripture, and the applica
tion of the comparative method to the study of
Religions, have all tended to give a greatly in
creased prominence to the words of our Lord Him
self The wisest of modern- Apologists no longer
attempt to prove our Lord's Divinity primarily by

42 LIMITATIONS OF
His miraculous credentials. The tendency is rather
to begin with an investigation of the character with
which the Gospel-narrative presents us. The origin
ality and the perfection of the character are regarded
as evidence for the sincerity of the words. And then
the words are examined with a view to showing that
they could not with sincerity have been used by any
raere man — by anyone who was not conscious of a
more than human authority, of being in some
absolutely unique and solitary union with the
Almighty Father.
The evidence of Christ's conscipusness is rightly
coming among thoughtful Theologians to be looked
upon as the unassailable rock upon which the belief
in the divineness of the Person must ultimately
repose. And this view is happily beginning, though
only beginning, to find general expression in the
more popular kinds of religious literature. But some
times we find this mode of argument pushed to un
wise lengths. It is rightly admitted, for instance, that
the importance and authority of the Old Testament
for us depend' on its intimate connexion with the
New. Our Lord testified to the inspiration of the
Old Testament prophets. He regarded Himself as
fulfilling the Messianic predictions. It is scarcely
possible, therefore, to believe in the reality even of
Christ's divine Mission, still less in His Divine
Nature, and at the same time to regard the Messi
anic idea in the Old Testament as a mere fancy
inspired by the irrepressible national vanity of a
conquered people. So far there is nothing to be said
against the argument. But when we are asked to

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 43
accept the historical truth of the miraculous story
of Jonah because (according to one of the Synop-
tists) it is alluded to by our Lord ; when we are
required to believe in the Davidic authorship of a
particular psalm because our Lord treats it as the
work of the poet-king ; when we are called upon to
believe in the Jewish theory of individual guardian-
angels and in the Jewish view of diabolical possession
because such a belief is implied in someof our Lord's
sayings (even if we are not peremptorily required to
rely on the historical character and infallibility of the
Old Testament en bloc because it is quoted by our
Lord as in some sense authoritative) — the enquirer
may well pause and say, " If that is the conclusion
to which your principle tends, I must reconsider the
whole argument." A man who has no real doiibt or
difficulty about these Old Testament matters may be
quite satisfied when you tell him, " You must believe
these things as a corollary of our Lord's Divinity."
But it is otherwise with the man who has known
what doubt is. "For my part," such a man will
probably reply, " I regard the later date of this or
that psalm, the unhistorical character of this or that
Old Testament narrative, the contradiction between
this or that verse in the first chapter of Genesis and
modern Science, the non-messianic import of this or
that prophecy, as too certainly ascertained to be set
aside by any mere a priori reasoning such as yours.
If you insist that such consequences are involved in
the acceptance of Christ's Divinity, I must retrace my
steps and reconsider the premises of an argument
which lands me in what I can only consider a reductio
ad absurdum."

44 LIMITATIONS OF
The difficulty which I am dealing with is one
which I believe is felt to be a very real one by
cultivated and philosophical minds. It is not a
difficulty that is likely to be much felt by the artisan-
sceptic or even by the mere man of science ; their
difficulties are generally of a much cruder and more
elementary order. The case I am contemplating is
that of a man of earnest mind and good religious
training, who has read and thought too much about
religious matters to suppose that Christianity has
been exploded by Geology, or by the growth of that
modern humanity which is shocked at the massacre
of the Canaanites and the cruelties practised by
David, the man after God's own heart. He has
mastered, in fact, the progressive view of Revelation,
and acquiesced in some more or less liberal cpncep-
tion of biblical inspiration. But while recognising
that the conceptions of evolution, of progress, of
gradual development, have to be applied to the
history of Revelation, as much as to geological
and secular History, he has hitherto regarded Christ
as the culmination of all this stream of progressive
revelation ; he has regarded him as the divinely-
ordained fulfiller, and not merely as the natural
product of all that has gone before ; as a new
creation, a new beginning, the introducer of a new
order of things — not as a mere link in the chain of
evolution. He has come to admit the possibility of
a non-genuine book having crept into the Canon ; he
admits the possibility of minor historical mistakes
in the Evangelists, he recognises traces of human
limitation, of Jewish narrowness, of exegetical mis-

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 45
conception in the writings of the Apostles. But
Christ he regards as towering above them all in
absolutely solitary majesty. Before His feet alone
he can still throw himself in unreserved submission
and adoration. The perfectness of His character,
the authority of His utterances, the Revelation of
the Father which shines forth in every word and
every act, still seem to him neither dulled nor
dimmed by all the Science and the Criticism and
the Philosophy that have tarnished the lustre of so
much that once shone with absolutely flawless
brilliancy for his childhood's adoring gaze. But
now, when our supposed enquirer has reached this
stage in his mental history, at last the question is
suggested to him, " Can Jesus really be made a
solitary exception to the otherwise universal law of
development?" All other moral and spiritual
teaching is more or less conditioned by the environ
ment in which the teacher moves. It is, in a
measure, the product of the spiritual influences that
have acted upon him ; however imperishable its
value, it is primarily adapted only to the needs of
the age to which it has been addressed. Succeeding
ages invariably bring with them new needs, new
problems, new social conditions to which the teach
ing of the past is never directly applicable. Can it
be that the teaching of Jesus of Nazareth forms a
solitary exception to the law which dooms the
greatest spiritual inheritances of humanity to be
absorbed, superseded, transcended by the spiritual
productions of succeeding ages.?" And then,
perhaps, under the influence of this a priori

46 LIMITATIONS OF
abhorrence of the breach of continuity in human
history, which has done so much to alienate
religious-minded philosophers from Catholic Christ
ianity, the enquirer betakes himself to a more close
and questioning study of the Master's recorded
words. The student who approaches the Gospel
records in this spirit is sure to find much that will at
first sight tend to confirm his doubts. He finds that
the language, the framework, the intellectual atmos
phere, if I may so say, of Christ's teaching is more
completely Jewish than he had at first sight
supposed; at every turn the imagery, for instance,
of the discourses in St. John is found to be more
directly inspired by the prophetic utterances than he
had noticed on a superficial reading. Our Lord's
whole teaching is more closely bound up than he
had supposed with the Messianic idea, and when he
comes to examine the genesis of the Messianic idea
he finds that its origin and growth, every step in its
development, and every change of form which it
underwent, can be in a sense explained and
accounted for as the natural outgrowth of the ex
ternal circumstances or the spiritual conditions of
successive ages. And then, perhaps, he acquires
some knowledge of the literature of that period
intervening between the close of the Old and the
formation of the New Testament Canon, which has
been of late so admirably dealt with in the interests
of Faith by an Hulsean lecturer in this pulpit. * That
literature reveals to him the fact there was more in
common than he had imagined between the float-
* Professor Stanton, The Jewish andthe Christian Messiah, 1886.

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 47
ing Messianic ideas of the time and the language
which our Lord uses of Himself and His kingdom—
as evidenced, for instance, by the imagery which He
employed in speaking of His Second Advent He is
struck, perhaps, by some of the parallelisms between
portions of our Lord's teaching and rabbinical say
ings preserved in the Talmud. And then, in the
light of this altered view of the relation of our Lord's
teaching to the general current of Jewish thought,
he comes upon distinct recognitions by the Master
Himself of the Jewish beliefs about the Old Testa
ment, about Angels, about the personal Tempter.
Something like this has probably been the intellectual
history of those for whom faith in the Divine Sonship
of Christ has surrendered to the supposed exigencies
of historical criticism. Something like this — as I
find since this sermon was written — was the case
with the hero pf the philosophical novel which has
proved the literary sensation of the present year. *
In ray own mind let me say at once that none of
these things are in the least inconsistent with a full
acceptance of all essential Catholic teaching about the
true Divinity of Jesus Christ. But there are probably
many of those whose faith has broken down beneath
the weight of difficulties such as we have been con
sidering, to whom in the whole course of their religious
training and theological reading this kenotic aspect
of the Incarnation has not once been suggested.
They have everywhere' found it assumed, by believers
and by unbelievers alike, that if Christ was very God
of very God every utterance of his — at least if its
* Robert Elsmere, by Mrs. Humphry Ward.

48 LIMITATIONS OF
subject-matter has any connexion, however rembte,
with religion — must necessarily be accepted as liter
ally, historically, and in the fullest sense infallible.
It seems tp me, therefpre, very impprtant that we
should insist clearly and strongly that a limitation
of knowledge is implied in the very idea of Incarna
tion. Upon reflection I suppose everyone will admit
that it would have been impossible that Jesus, as
he wandered in solitary communion with his heavenly
Father over the hillsides of Galilee, as he stood teach
ing those poor simple fishermen on the border of the
Lake, as he drank tp the full the cup pf human agpny
in the Garden pf Gethsemane, shpuld have all the
time had his brain full pf the scientific truths which
ages pf patient labpur have revealed tP a wpndering
world. To suppose that would be to make pf Pur
Lprd a non-natural man, so unlike the men that we
know of, as to destroy the whole purpose and mean
ing of the Incarnation. Such knowledge as this
would have been no qualificatipn, it wpuld have been
a ppsitive hindrance to Him in the performance of
the Father's work — in the fulfilment of the temporal
mission — the oiKovofila for which He was sent into the
world. And if no reflecting Christian supposes that
this anticipation of the whole march of scientific
enquiry, this violent interruption of the laws of
intellectual progress was necessary to our Lord's true
Divinity, why should we be bound to postulate any
such anticipation of the course of historical enquiry
and literary research because some of their problems
are accidentally connected with facts in the spiritual
development of humanity ? If our Lord Jesus Christ

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 49
can without prejudice to His Divine Sonship be sup
posed to have been ignorant, and to have shown His
ignorance of certain scientific facts, why should he not
equally be supposed to have known only what an
ordinary Jew of his day knew about the authorship
of Old Testament Books, and about those facts of
the unseen world which have no essential cpnnection
with the spiritual and moral life of man? At the
same tirae, while we frankly and fully adrait that
Jesus Christ was not raerely a man but a Jew whose
intellectual conceptions were conditioned by the
circumstances of his time, it is important to observe
how extreraely few are the cases in which we have
any need to reraeraber it. Just think for one raoment
hpw full pf Jewish limitatipn and Jewish peculiarities
is the thpught pf St, Paul and St. Jphn, and then
compare it with the handful of passages in which our
Lord's teaching appears incidentally — without the
smallest "loss of its intrinsic value — to be expressed
in terms of some Jewish belief which offers difficulties
to the modern thinker. Our Lord's language is neces
sarily Judaic; all language is essentially human ; "every
language bears upon its structure the impress or the
mental conditions of the nation that spoke it. And
between the ideas which our Lord's language implies
and ours the difference is, frpm the spiritual ppint of
view, little more than a difference of language. There
is hardly, to ray raind, a more convincing proof that
Jesus Christ was more than a mere prophet than the
universality of his thoughts, the absence of limitation,
the universal applicability of his moral and spiritual
teaching, Np doubt it is well that we should shrink
E

so LIMITATIONS OF
from prying into the mysteries of that divine-human
nature ; we shall never be able to picture to ourselves
exactly what the consciousness of Jesus was like.
But in so far as we can venture reverently to con
jecture how spiritual perfection and spiritual infalli
bility were compatible with intellectual limitation, we
may perhaps suppose that the pure spirituality of our
Lord's character and thought and teaching carried
with it an exemption from all limitations which could
have the smallest effect on the spiritual value of what
he taught. The limitations which we notice in the
greatest of ordinary human teachers consist just in
this — in mistaking the merely local and temporary for
the universal and eternal, in mistaking the accidental
for the essential, in confusing spme vital spiritual
truth with some external form, or some intellectual
formula, in which it has clothed itself From limita
tion of this kind the Christ was freed by the unique
spiritual insight which the indwelling Word com
municated to the human soul. His vision of spiritual
truth was so unclouded that He could not take for
spiritual something which was not really spiritual at
all. But there are other questions of what we call
Theology which cannot be solved by any conceivable
keenness of spiritual insight. I hope it will not be
thought a paradpx if I say that it was no part of our
Lord's mission on earth to teach Theology. He
came to teach Religion. I am not one of those who
think that you can have Religion without God, or even
Religion without Theology, But we must remember
that Theology is a Science — a Science whose function

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 51
it is to set the eternal truths of Religion in their
proper relation to all other truths. The religious
revelation, the revelation of God made by Christ,
was, we believe, final and complete, though it is only
(as He Hiraself ever taught) by the continuous
revelation through the Holy Spirit that the one
absolute revelation of God in Christ can be applied.
to the needs and problems of successive ages. But
the scientific revelation — the revelation of Nature — it
was not God's purpose to make through Christ ; and
a correct critical and scientific Theology was not
possible when that ever-progressing and ever-expand
ing revelation of Nature had hardly begun. Such
questions as the mode and process of Creation, the
mode of God's government of the world through
laws of nature and laws of mind, the chronology of
his gradual self-revelation to the world — and especially
to the Jewish people in the past — all these are
scientific questions whose bearing upon eternal
spiritual truth is but accidental. We may, indeed,
see the workings of divine Providence, or, perhaps, it
is better to say of the absolute spirituality of our
Lord's nature, in the seldpmness with which such
questipns are touched upon, however incidentally, in
the Gospel discpurses — in the cpmplete cpncentratipn
pf the Master's thpught upon the essential, the
religious, the eternal. But for our Lord to have
been supernaturally prevented from sharing and
occasionally showing that He shared, scientific,
historical, perhaps I may even say philosophical
ideas, which have been superseded by the progress
of scientific enquiry and biblical criticism — that

52 LIMITATIONS OF
would have been to destroy the reality of His
human nature altogether. It would have made pf
Him. a Gnpstic emanation, and not a divine man.
I do not urge that we should vainly speculate upon
the exact line of demarcation between the sphere of
the natural, in which the man Christ Jesus was
fallible, and the sphere of the spiritual, in which He
on whom the Spirit was outpoured without measure
was infallible. I do not ask that we should attempt
to define scholastically the precise mode of the co
existence of the divine and human natures in the
Incarnate Logos, I only ask for a reverent acceptance
of facts. About what is not revealed to us let us
confess our ignorance, or allow each man to speculate
as he pleases ; but where we do plainly find that our
Lord was allowed to be ignorant of things which we
know, let us neither shut our ears to the revelation of
Science, nor seek to explain away the collision
between that revelation and the incidental state
ments on non-spiritual matters of Him in whom God
has revealed to us his very Self The whole difficulty
would disappear if we would frankly accept St. Luke's
statement that our Lord "increased in wisdom."
Increase in wisdom was only possible to one who
was ignorant of some things. The medieval teachers
who thought it "inconvenient" to deny the omni
science of our Lord, even tanquam homo, had to
explain away the statement of the Evangelist, and
seem practically to make the infant Jesus in the
cradle at Bethlehem as fully possessed of all human
knowledge as the Jesus who spake as never raan yet
spake.

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 53
I can imagine th^t some raay feel a sort of doubt
as to what, after all these deductions or abate-
raents (as they raay think them), is really left of the
precious doctrine which I have been trying to defend
by stripping it of adventitious accretions. That
difficulty cannot be dealt with fully at the end of
a sermon. But I should like to lay before you the
words in which the position of those who maintained
the limitatipn of Christ's human knowledge was stated
by one of their most fair and thoughtful opponents in
the twelfth century. To do so will perhaps be the
best way of convincing you that the view which I
advocate is no desperate device of a baffled nineteenth
century apologist, but a view which was held in what
are somewhat questionably called the ages of Faith,
by divines of unquestioned Catholic Orthodoxy.
This is the way their position is stated by Robert
de Melun, Bishop of Hereford in the latter half of the
twelfth century : " As all power is said to have been
given unto Christ the man, because he had a perfect
and sufficient power of redeeming and reconciling and
judging the world, so also in Christ ,the man are said
to be hidden all the treasures of the wisdom and of
the knowledge of God, because he had perfect and
sufficient knowledge for the administration of the
aforesaid power. For it was necessary that he should
have wisdom and knowledge of these things for the
doing of which the manhood was assumed. But he
assumed not the manhood in order that he might
create or rule heaven and earth by human wisdom,
but that he might conquer the devil and deliver man
frora his power. And since the man assumed had

54 LIMITATIONS OF
perfect and sufficient knowledge for the accomplish
ment of this, the Apostle says that in Christ the man
, all the treasures of God's wisdom and knowledge are
hid, and not because the man assumed had as much
wisdom and knowledge as the Word that assumed
Him,"* Does not the exegesis of this nameless scholastic
contain a useful caution for us — a wholesome doctrine
and needful for these times ? Do we not want to
eraphasise more, to bring into more prominence the
practical, the spiritual, and the personal side of the
great Catholic Doctrines about Christ — that Christ
was a sinless Man ; that his character was perfect ;
that that character represents to us the character of
God perfectly, fully, finally ; that God is speaking to
us through Christ; that we may accept Christ's
assurance of forgiveness as God's assurance ; that
God would have us be like Christ, that we can
implicitly believe all that Christ tells us about God's
Fatherly love of us, about His holiness, about the
eternal life that is promised to those who fpllpw
Christ .¦• It is npt commonly with Christological
teaching such as this that difficulties are found by
the mass of reverent and intelligent enquirers. And
yet, surely, it is to these comparatively simple truths
rather than to the more wonder-moving and more
metaphysical presentatipns of Christ's Divinity that
the doctrine owes its power over heart and conscience,
its influence over life and character. There are, of
course, Agnostics who cannpt believe that Gpd is
* The treatise is printed in Bulaeus : Historia Universitatis
Parisiensis, T. II. , pp, 600, 601.

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 55
revealed in Christ, because they do not believe that
God is. There are those whom some highly specula
tive Philosophy, or the adoption of some highly
destructive critical opinions, forbid to assert even
this much about Christ. But these are not the
majority. To the majority of Theists it is not state
ments such as I have just made that seera incredible
or unintelligible, whatever erabarrassments they raay
feel about their evidence. Their difficulties are firstly
with the technical Trinitarian and Christological
forraulae, with which they are generally associated ;
secondly, with the raistaken interpretations which
have been given to these doctrines and the raistaken
inferences which have been drawn frora them. At
least, it is here that the difficulties commonly begin
that end by reducing Christ for so many devout and
reverent minds to at best a prophet, more or less
inspired, more or less deluded.
Are we then to suppress, to attenuate, and whittle
down the full Catholic doctrine of the Divinity of
Christ, because there are raany who find difficulties
iff our forraulae, though they are capable of sharing
the heart of our belief? I do not say so. But I do
say that we should in all our teaching put the simpler
presentations — the moral, the spiritual, the personal
aspects of Christ's Divinity — foremost. Let us show
people how Christ is a real revelation of God to us,
and how He may be so to others. Then let us
endeavour to derapnstrate that the great Symbpls
pf the undivided Church are a true and natural,
thpugh perhaps not the only ppssible, expressipn pf
these truths whose present meaning and significance

56 LIMITATIONS OF
have been already felt, that the head-truths pf the
Catholic Faith supply a natural basis, a reasonable
formulation of the heart-truths of the Christian
consciousness. Then — at least with students or cultivated persons
— we may go on to show that even the subtleties of
the Athanasian Creed and the definitions of Theolo
gians have a real and important meaning, though
they are expressed in terms of an obsolete Philosophy,
in a language which is not purs.
Thus perhaps thpse innumerable minds pn which
the hpld pf this great central truth of Christianity
has been raore or less weakened by difficulties such
as we have been discussing, raay corae to recognise
that the difficulties arpse put of siraple raisunder-
standing. It was not the Divinity of Christ, but the
mistaken inferences that unintelligent Theologians
and still more unintelligent commentators have
drawn from it, that created the difficulty. One of
the greatest of these hindrances and difficulties in
the way of belief would be gone if the Pauline
doctrine of the Kevooa-is, on which I have been dwelling
to-day, were more often insisted upon — particularly
in its application to the question of the knowledge
of Christ in matters which have no real bearing upon
His work as the Revealer of the Father — as the
brightness of His glory and the express image of
His person.
If this were more generally admitted by the
Theologians who can speak with authority, I am sure
that it would be a great help and a great relief to
many essentially Christian minds. I am probably

KNOWLEDGE IN CHRIST 57
speaking to a few who could do soraething in this
direction. To them I commend it as a subject of
reverent study. If I shall seem to many to have
spoken too crudely or even rashly, I can assure them
I do not under-estimate the difficulties of the subject;
but my sense of its difficulty is less strong than ray
conviction that if Theologians would be a little bolder
in their words, their voices would reach ears which
are now deaf to their appeals, and that for raany
souls from whom the face of God is now obscured
by the mists of intellectual difficulty, the Sun of
Righteousness would once again arise with healing
in his wings.

IV.
THE HISTORICAL VALUE OF
THE GOSPELS
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's, 1895,
" Even as they delivered them unto us, which from the beginning were
eye-witnesses and ministers of the word." — Luke i. 2.
I PROPOSE this afternoon to make a few sugges
tions upon the great question of the historical
value of our primary sources for the life and teaching
of Christ, To the trained Theologian the idea of
attacking such a subject within the liraits of a sermon,
or even of many serraons, might, I am well aware,
present itself almost in the light of an impertinence,
even on the part of a preacher who possessed any
qualifications for delivering an ex cathedra judgment
upon it. But we are not, and we cannot all be theo
logical experts, and yet we have all got in some
rough and ready way or other to face this question
for ourselves if we want to attain to anything
apprpaching intellectual clearness as • tp the basis
pf our Christian faith. For put as high as you
like the place of intuition or emotion in the forma
tion of Christian belief, there must, after all, be a
certain basis of documentary or traditional evidence
for intuition or emotion to work upon. Few will,
58

THE GOSPELS 59
at the present day, go the length of professing to
discern by iraraediate devotional instinct the inspi
ration even of single bpoks of the Old or New
Testaraent, in any sense of inspiratipn which guaran
tees histprical credibility; while for those who rely
upon authority it is at least necessary to go tP the
pages pf the New Testament tp find the credentials
of the authority upon which they are prepared to
repose. We may perhaps look forward to the time
when in their main outlines the purely critical ques
tions involved shall be settled for us by the kind pf
authprity tP which sensible men are in the habit pf
deferring in pther departments pf knpwledge, when
it will as little be necessary fpr the average educated
man tP examine fpr himself the histprical character
pf the Christian dpcuments as it is necessary fpr him
personally to investigate the evidence for the rotun
dity of the earth, pr tp be able fully and adequately
to refute the Baconian authorship of Shakespeare,
But such a consensus, though some approximation
to it is not perhaps quite so distant as the uninformed
sceptic is apt to iniagine, has not arrived yet. The
educated raan who wishes to be able to form upon
this matter the sarae sort of rough judgment that he
endeavours to form upon any other large historical
or critical questions which interest him outside his
own special department of study must still examine
such questions for himself, at least to the extent
which is necessary to enable him to appreciate the
value pf the authprities which may challenge his
adherence. Hpw then is such a person, without the training or

6o HISTORICAL VALUE OF
the leisure to become even an amateur Theologian, to
arrive at any opinion upon a question so intricate and
so controverted as the origin and mutual relations of
the first three Gospels ? If it were really necessary
for the purpose which I have in view to adopt even
a provisional Synoptic theory, the question would
hardly be a fit subject for the pulpit, even in the
hands of one who had mastered it. But fortunately
for those of us whp feel vitally interested in such
matters withput being experts in New Testament
criticism, it is, I think, possible to arrive at some
rough and ready answer to the question which I
have proposed without committing ourselves to any
detailed solution of the great SynPptic problem.
In the first place it is well just to remind ourselves
of the fact that the earliest documentary evidence of
the Christian story in the earliest ages lies outside the
pages of the Gospel records. From the four practi
cally undisputed Epistles of St. Paul, written some
twenty years after the Crucifixion, we gather that
both he and the earlier Apostles of the Circumcision
were then preaching a creed which centred in the
life and alleged resurrection of an historical person
named Jesus of Nazareth. Few of the actual sayings
of the Master are quoted, but in these Epistles we
find ourselves in the presence of a very distinctive
moral ideal which, in so far as it differed from the
Judaism of the Christian era, purports to owe its
existence to the life and teaching of this historical
person. The criticism of certain wild Dutchmen *
and one not very learned Englishman t which pro-
• See e.g. Verisimilia, by Piersbn and Naber, 1886.
t The author of The Four Gospels as Historical Records, 1895.

THE GOSPELS 6i
nounces all allusions to Christ's life in these Epistles
to be later insertions really cannot claim serious
refutation. This testimony fairly weighed would, by
itself, be sufficient to disprove some of the extremer
theories which almost dispense with the personality
of an historical Founder in accounting for the genesis
of the Christian Religion — theories which are now
no longer raaintained by specialists, but which still
seera to exercise some influence upon cultivated
persons who have no particular acquaintance with
the matter in hand. More testiraony of the sarae
kind raay be derived from Pauline Epistles of almost
equally indisputable genuineness, from the strongly
authenticated first Epistle of St. Peter, and from the
Apocailypse of St. John, which, though its authorship
is not undisputed, is usually placed as early as
68 A.D. by precisely those critics whose theories in
other directions have been most destructive. In such
writings we have at least evidence enough to compel
us to refer the existence of Christianity to the appear
ance upon the scene of history of a commanding
Personality, and not to the slow evolution of a school
or a movement, a mythppoeic tendency or an im
ported Philosophy. But these books undoubtedly
give us little information about the actual teaching'
and character of the historical Person whom they
presuppose; and, as I wish on the present occasion
to concentrate your attention primarily upon the ques
tion of character and teachiiig, I must pass on to
the Gospel narrative, and for to-day to the Synoptic
narrative. When we turn to the Synoptists, it will
at least become evident on the face of it that we

62 HISTORICAL VALUE OF
are in presence of a Personality whose life and
words answer to and explain the fragments of direct
teaching and biography contained in the earlier
Christian literature, while they breathe a spirit in
full harmony with and yet transcending the ideal
— the new type of ethical tone and religious temper
— exhibited by those indisputable early Christian
writings. The prima facie aspect, if I may so say,
of the Gospels is such as to convince us that we
have to do with historical documents, though we
must resort to criticism to determine their exact
historical value.
The turning-point of New Testament criticism is
the authorship of the Acts of the Apostles. If it
were alleged that the Acts is a compilation of such
a kind that it is impossible to argue from the author
ship of one part to the authorship of another, we
should indeed find ourselves confronted with one of
those complicated critical problems on which we
could arrive at an opinion only by elaborate personal
investigation or by a consensus of experts. Fortu
nately this is not the case. The literary unity of the
Acts of the Apostles and of the third Gospel, which
clearly purports to be by the same author, is admitted
by the ablest and most conspicuous at least of the
critics who have argued for their second century
date. Of course, in the Acts, as still more obviously
in the Gospel, the writer is reproducing pre-existing
materials, and unquestionably they are often repro
duced with such fidelity as materially to colpur the
style of the composition. But it is not denied by
writers like Baur and Zeller that we are entitled to

THE GOSPELS 63
treat the whole of these two books as, in a literary
sense, the work of whoever wrote the journeys of St.
Paul. In describing parts of these journeys (as
everyone knows) the writer uses the first person.
Now a careless or inartistic compiler might of course
reproduce passages of a traveller's journal without
seeing that the use of the first person was no longer
applicable. But as these " we-passages " are per
vaded by the same strongly-marked literary style
which characterises the whole book, it is not possible
to contend that these passages are extracts from the
journal of the Physician Luke or other actual com
panion of St. Paul, introduced in good faith and
without alteration by a later writer ; nor will anyone
allege that the author of the Acts was a clumsy and
inartistic compiler like some of the inferior medieval
chroniclers who are no doubt quite capable of using
the first person in a borrowed passage without any
intimation that it no longer means the author of
the whole book. If, therefore, the "we" of Luke's
journal is retained, it is retained, not by accident, but
designedly, with a view to give the whole bpok the
appearance of having been written by this companion
of St. Paul. So much is admitted by writers of the
Tubingen School. According to them, the object
of this literary fraud was to represent St. Peter and
St. Paul as having been from the first on terms of
theological agreement and friendly co-operation,
instead of being the rival authors of two bitterly
opposed ecclesiastical factions. I must forbear here
even to glance at the slowly accumulating evidence
which has compelled the few surviving representa-

64 HISTORICAL VALUE OF
tives of the great Tubingen School (whose services
to historical criticism I have no wish to depreciate)
gradually to qualify and narrow down their grand
and comprehensive theory of Church history to very
raodest dimensions. And every modification of the
Tubingen theory as a whole is so much deducted
from the weight of the arguments against a first-
century origin for the Acts of the Apostles. I
cannot go into these arguments now. I can only
invite anyone who has never considered the subject
to put to himself the question whether the Acts of
the Apostles strikes him as a very ingenious historical
fiction, dexterously interwoven with a genuine journal
of St. Luke and a few fragments of genuine tradition,
or whether it is on the face of it the bond- fide cora
position of a genuine historian — an historian who
may have been, if you like, at times rhetorical,
uncritical, or credulous, but an historian who had
personally witnessed such scenes as he professes to
have witnessed, and who, in matters lying beyond
his personal knowledge, made an honest, if some
tiraes a free — perhaps even an imaginative — use of
the best materials which he could collect. I venture
to say that this is a question on which most men will
be able to arrive at a fairly decided working judg
ment after a few hours' study, and I feel no doubt
as to the answer which the vast majority of unbiassed
minds will give to it. This afternoon I can only
point out briefly how much we are warranted in
inferring from this single datura that the Acts was
the work of a travelling companion of St. Paul.
If that was the case, it cannot well have been

THE GOSPELS 65
written much later than 85 A.D., and the third
Gospel raust have been written before that. In
the present state of criticisra it will hardly be
questioned that the second Gospel represents a
very decidedly earlier stage in the development of
the coraraon source or sources than the third. As
to the first Gospel in its present form we are indeed
warranted in inferring nothing. We must, therefore,
so far as our present argument is concerned, put aside
so much of the first Gpspel as is peculiar tP itself
We can only say that in so far as the first Gospel
agrees with the second or third, the origin of their
common source is. thrown back in all probability to
a period very much earlier than this ; while in the
parts coramon to the first and third Evangelists we
may perhaps venture to add (thpugh here, pf cpurse,
we are pn mpre disputable grpund) that the first
Gpspel is prpbably, as a rule, rapre faithful than the
third tP the cpramon original or originals. I raust
not, however, stray into these debatable matters. I
only want just to suggest, by the way, that the diffi
culty of dating the first Gospel in its -present form
does not necessarily throw any discredit upon its
fuller representation of discourses given more sum
marily by St. Luke, whatever may be thought of the
narratives which find no parallel at all in any othe^-
Gospel.* What, then, is the historical value of such testiraony
as this? In the first place it seeras necessary to
emphasise the fact that none of our narratives come
* Personally, I should not easily be persuaded that the group of parables
which includes the Prodigal Son was the work of disciples or tradition.
F

66 HISTORICAL VALUE OF
from eye-witnesses. I put aside for the raoraent the
fourth Gospel, though I do not do so frora any
personal dpubt as tp its substantially Johannine
authorship. In the three Synoptists we are presented
with three narratives, which (so far as our present
arguments are concerned) are not known to proceed
from eye-witnesses. 1 do not wish to cast any dis
credit upon the ancient and probable tradition that
the second Gospel represents, with raore or less
fidelity, a compilation by St. Mark frora the teach
ing of Peter, or upon the tradition that a work by
St. Matthew is in sorae way or pther erabpdied in
pur present first Gospel. But to some of us it will
appear that discrepancies between the first Gospel
and the fourth would allow us to claim an actual
apostolic authorship for the present first Gospel
only on condition of denying that of the fourth. In
short, in the present state of criticism the Matthean
authorship of the first Gospel in its present form will
scarcely be asserted, and is certainly incapable of
proof. We are, then, presented with three narratives, none
of which can be assumed to be by eye-witnesses, one
at least of which can with confidence be ascribed to
a person intiraately associated with eye-witnesses, all
of which (with the possible exception of portions of
St. Matthew) must have been in existence in about
85 A.D., and the common basis of which must have
been in existence at least twenty or thirty years
earlier. What is the historical value of such data
for a biography ?
What would be the value of a number of modern

THE GOSPELS 6y
biographies, coincident in the raain but differing in
detail, which, with a similar uncertainty as to their
actual authorship, could be traced back to a period
of some fifty years after the death of their subject ?
The answer must obviously be that the value of such
records would depend very largely indeed upon the
character of their contents. On the one hand, we
could not say, with regard to such biographies, that
any single incident or saying in them is certainly
and necessarily true just because it is there.
Putting aside the hypothesis of wilful fraud and
dishonesty, we cannot deny that a biography ap
pearing under these circurastances might possibly
contain this pr that unhistorical saying or incident.
If we had to do with an actual friend and associate
of the hero — say, one of Napoleon's most trusted
staff — we should, of course, be obliged, if we admitted
his honesty, to accept his authority as final for such
parts of his life as he actually witnessed, and for the
general character of such expressions of opinion as
he actually heard. As to details, raemory might,
of cpurse, fail, but he cpuld nPt have innpcently
invented a battle pr attributed tp his master great
political designs at which he had never hinted. It
is otherwise when the author, however careful and
diligent in his enquiries, is not an eye or ear-witness,
and does not tell us in detail the nature of his
authprities. We cannpt in such cases regard his
stateraents as final. We may pn adequate grpunds
reject one incident and doubt another withput thrpw-
ing discredit uppn his general trustwprthiness. On
the other hand, it is clear that such an origin as we

68 HISTORICAL VALUE OF
have supppsed is perfectly cpnsistent with a very high
degree pf histprical certainty. -Everything turns uppn
the internal cpnsistency, the tpne and manner pf the
narrative, its simple pr rhetprical character, the
presence pr absence pf a manifest bias pr purppse
pr " tendency," as the phrase is.
If the narrative will stand critical examinatipn, if
the tone of the narrative is such as to discredit the
hypothesis of fraud or dishonesty or extreme hagio-
logical credulity — if the character, the life, and the
conversation presented to us offer a distinct, coherent,
and original picture, we shall in the main accept such
a narrative with as much confidence as if it had been
written by one of Napoleon's marshals himself
There might be blunders about dates, confusion
of one secondary personage with another, slight
exaggeration or traditional amplificatipn even abput
the events of his public career, still raore about his
early life and faraily history; but we raight quite
probably rise frora the perusal of such a narrative
with a confidence, for all practical purposes absolute,
that in the main we knew the sort of man that
Napoleon was, the way he lived, and the way he
talked. I need hardly say that a very large part of our
knowledge of some of the best-known characters
of ancient history, if not of modern, rests upon
evidence very much of this character. We criticise
freely the biographies of the Roman emperors in
Suetonius or the Augustan history, but no sensible
man doubts the nobleness of Trajan or the villainy
of Commodus. Reject all evidence but that of eye-

THE GOSPELS 69
witnesses or historians whose sources of information
are detailed, and what should we know about any
of the leading figures in ancient history, except
Cicero and one or two of his contemporaries ?
Now let us turn to the biographies of our Lord,
In one respect the comparison which I have insti
tuted does inj.ustice to' them. The Jew was
accustomed to preserve the teaching of a Master
for raany generations with substantial accuracy.
Our knowledge of this fact makes a far greater
degree of exactness in the transraission of teaching
possible and even probable a priori than could be
looked for in raodern tiraes. Still, the facts being
what they are, we cannot say that it is impossible
that this or that incident may be unhistorical, this
or that saying raisrepresented or raisunderstood, pr
even evplved by the uncpnscipus wprking pf tradi-
tipnal develppment. It is ppssible that critical
comparison of one Synoptist with another, or a strong
sense of the intrinsic improbability of such and such
an act, or of its incongruity with the character
revealed by better attested narratives, raay corapel
us to doubt or to reject this pr that particular
incident pr saying pf Christ. And we may dp sp
withput necessarily thrpwing dpubt pr discredit
uppn the rest. That is dpne by every histprian
whp criticises his authprities. Of cpurse, if the
result pf such critical examinatipn is to reveal more
than a certain amount of inconsistency in the same
authority, or conflict between parallel authorities,
the result might be seriously to weaken our con
fidence in their general value. But the critical

70 HISTORICAL VALUE OF
treatment of authorities by no means necessarily
has this effect. I think it is of great importance to
insist strpngly uppn this simple principle. Hpwever
little we have set purselves dpwn tP a systematic
study of the Gospel narratives, we cannot help, many
of us, as we listen for instance to the reading of the
Bible in church, suspecting this or that detail,
especially when we have observed that it represents
an amplification, and a less probable amplification, of
another Synoptist. Now, when once we have outlived
our childhood's confidence that a thing must be true
simply because it is in the Bible, such suspicions
or rejections are apt to throw a film of doubt over
our whole mental pictures of the Christ in whom
we have believed. Let us, then, realize distinctly
that critical rejection of details does not necessarily
throw doubt upon the rest. In no sphere is the " all
or nothing" argument more hopelessly irrational.
Indeed, it is a mode of treatment which no one
adopts in any ordinary historical enquiry. Yet it
has, for instance, been said that we cannot be sure
that any one recorded saying of Christ is actually
His. Such scepticism seems to be excessive, but
we might admit it without seriously weakening our
belief in the historical character of the Gospel
narrative. We might not be sure that any given
saying is genuine, but we might still be quite sure
that by far the larger part of them are so.
Let us recur once more to a modern parallel.
When a great man disappears from among us, the
air is full of anecdotes about him or sayings at
tributed to him. Some of them, in all probability,

THE GOSPELS 71
are not true. But so far is the rejection of one from
throwing doubt upon the rest, that it is positively
impossible to account for the production of this or
that apocryphal story except upon the hypothesis
that many of them are true. They owe their exist
ence to the impression created by the rest. This
or that story raay be rejected for want of sufficient
evidence, or because really inconsistent with a fuller
knowledge of the man's character. In raany cases,
no doubt, we may, we raust, reraain ignorant as to
exactly which stories are true and which are apo
cryphal — as to the exact degree pf exaggeratipn pr
ppinting which spme pf them may have undergone.
But a great deal of doubt as to the details is quite
consistent with a perfectly truthful general impression
as to the character, opinions, and habits of the man.
The sayings and doings revealed in an anonymous
biography written fifty years after the raan's death
may reveal to us a character, a mind, a personality,
a career, whose originality, whose internal consist
ency — I may add whose a priori improbability — is
such as to make the hypothesis of fiction or mythical
evolution, conscious or uncpnscipus, imppssible tP
any sane or sober critic. If Boswell had appeared
anonymously fifty years after Dr. Johnson's death,
with all the personal authentication of its cpntents
eliminated, the fact wpuld hardly have affected pur
judgment as tP the bppk's substantial histprical value,
thpugh it wpuld dpubtless allpw us greater scope
for a critical treatment of details. I want reverently
to suggest that we are in very much this position
with regard to the main outlines of the life and

72 HISTORICAL VALUE OF
the character of Hira whom we believe to have
been the Son of God. On the present occasion 1
must not follow out this suggestion any further.
But I raust add one word of explanation. I have
purposely refrained frora introducing the difficulties
arising from what is commonly called the super
natural character of some events in the recorded life
of Christ, or of some of the claims which He is
recorded to have made for Hiraself I do npt dp
SP because I think pur belief pn such raatters in
different. I strongly feel that the fact that Christ
claimed to work cures is so intimately bound up
with the very woof and fibre of narrative and dis
course alike as to place it beyond the reach of sober
criticism, however you raay interpret that fact. But
it is raanifest that the question of ascribing to Christ
raore than the norraal huraan control over nature, or
of ascribing to Hira in any distinctive sense a divine
Sonship, cannot even be considered until we are
convinced that the character and the teaching with
which we are presented in the evangelic narratives
are substantially historical and not fictitious, and until
we are persuaded that in this character and this
teaching we are face to face with a phenomenon
unique in human history and unique in its present
spiritual significance.
And these two convictions cannot altogether be
separated. Our judgment upon the historical
character of the evangelical picture must depend
largely upon our power of appreciating the spiritual
significance of that picture. It is, as the now de
spised Paley contended long ago, the originality of

THE GOSPELS 73
the character of Christ which constitutes the greatest
of all guarantees of its historical existence. We
have only to compare the Gospels even with other
New Testament writings to see how wide is the
spiritual and intellectual gulf which separates Christ
frora the greatest of his Apostles.* None of them
were capable of inventing one of the raore striking
and characteristic of the sayings of Christ ; no one of
them ever so much as attempted to write a parable, t
• Cf. the declaration of J. S. Mill (Essays on Religion, Ed. iii. 1874,
p. 253) : "The most valuable part of the effect on the character which
Christianity has produced by holding up in a Divine Person a standard
of excellence and a model for imitation is available even to the abso
lute unbeliever, and can never more be lost to humanity. . . . What
ever else may be taken away from us by rational criticism, Christ
is still left; a unique figure, not more unlike all his precursors than all
his followers, even those who had the direct benefit of his personal
teaching. It is of no use to say that Christ as exhibited in the Gospels
is not historical, and that we know not how much of what is admir
able has been superadded by the tradition of his followers. The
tradition of followers suffices to insert any number of marvels, and
may have inserted all the miracles which he is reputed to have
wrought. But who among his disciples or among their proselytes was
capable of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus, or of imagining the
life and character revealed in the Gospels? Certainly not the fisher
men of Galilee, as certainly not St. Paul, whose character "and
idiosyncrasies were of a totally different sort ; still less the early
Christian writers, in whom nothing is more evident than that the
good which was in them was all derived, as they always professed that it
was derived, from the higher source."
Mill limits these remarks to the discourses in the Synoptists. A
deeper study of the discourses of the Fourth Gospel, which Mill treats
as "poor stuff," would have revealed beneath the mannerism and the
expansion which is due to the narrator a not less valuable deposit of
self-evidently original matter.
t "Among early uninspired Christian writers there were several
imitators of the apostolic Epistles; but only one, Hermas, who
attempted to imitate the parables, and that with such poor success
that we need the less wonder that others did not try the experiment." —
Salmon, Introduction tothe New Testament (1881), p. 136.

74 HISTORICAL VALUE OF
But these are arguments which can, of course, only
appeal to people who are capable of appreciating
this spiritual differentia, if I raay so call it, of Christ's
life and words. And, therefore, we raust recognise
that there is after all sorae logical justification for
those who find in their own instinctive perceptions
a sufficient basis for their Christian belief They be
lieve that Christ was what He is represented to have
been simply because they cannot believe otherwise.
Its existence as a fiction or unhistorical tradition
would be more unintelligible than its existence as
fact, and they go on to infer that being what
He was He raust have been the Spn pf Gpd,
because they cannpt believe that there can be
anything diviner than such a character and such
a life. Such an attitude is perfectly defensible,
certainly in perspns whp dp npt feel either the incli
nation or the capacity for more detailed intellectual
investigation. They have the right to ignore ob
jections and difficulties on matters of detail, just
as full a right as we have to enjoy and to accord
a general acceptance to any ordinary biography, while
aware that not unreasonable doubts may have been
felt about details by those whp have the leisure and
inclinatipn fpr critical investigatipn. But I dp alsp
very earnestly wish tp assert the right pf thpse who
cannot but feel that parts of the Gospel narrative do
npt stand histprically upon the same basis with the
rest — who cannot but feel as they compare one Synop
tist with another that the first Gospel has the right
version of such and such a saying and St. Luke a
wrong one, that this rairacle has been exaggerated

THE GOSPELS 75
and that is a piece of " aftermath " — to say so freely
without being charged with destroying either for
themselves or for others a reasonable basis for their
belief in a unique revelation of Gpd thrpugh the
historic Christ. The great question in what that
uniqueness consists, I shall hope to treat on some
future occasion.
Meanwhile let rae just suggest this one thought.
I have confined rayself chiefly to the record of
Christ's character and to the words in which most
conspicuously that character was manifested. That
is the basis upon which must needs be based any
further inferences as to who and what Jesus of
Nazareth actually was. I do not deny, I strongly
feel, the deep iraportance of many of the speculative
questions which raay arise in this connexion. But do
not let us fall into the way of treating the character
of Christ as a mere evidence of divine revelation.
The character of Jesus Christ is itself surely the
great revelation of God. If we cannot find in the
character of Jesus, as it is presented to us in the
pages of the Gospels, a revelation of the highest, we
must not expect to find any histPiric testimpny
pr any metaphysical reaspning which can ppssibly
compel our belief in such a revelation. The character
of Christ and the conviction that that character
represents God — that is the heart of the Christian
faith ; that is what affects the life. Lay hold upon
that character, live in its light, seek to reproduce it in
your lives, and it is a matter of comparative unim
portance — comparative unimportance except sp far as
it affects ypur ppwer pf cp-pperatipn with the great

76 THE GOSPELS
raass, , the organized Ecclesia of Christian believers
— whether or no you express that faith in the tradi
tional terms of Christian Theology, or in the formulae
of later Philosophy, or in the homeliest language of
the raost commonplace religious experience.

V.
THE UNIQUE SON
Preached in Balliol College Chapel, 1894.
" In this was manifested the love of God towards us, because that God
sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live
through him." — i John iv. 9.
BISHOP LIGHTFOOT has pointed out that
the true meaning of ju.ovoyev>]g is not so much
" only-begotten " as " the only one of his kind." *
The emphasis is entirely on the /xoi/o, not at all on
the yevrii. In the Epistle of St. Clement of Rorae the
word is applied to the Phoenix, that fabulous bird
which was supposed to be the only living specimen
of its kind, and to die every 500 years, leaving an egg
which, hatched (according to one version of the story)
by the heat of its parent's funeral pyre, produced
a new bird to carry on the solitary succession. The
story — implicitly believed alike by cultivated pagan
writers and by Christian Fathers — exactly illustrates
the meaning which it originally bore in Christian
Theology. There was never more than one Phcenix
at a tirae : that solitary individual forraed, as it were,
a kind by itself So when St. John applied the terra
* On Clement of Rome, Ad. Cor. I. 25.
77

78 THE UNIQUE SON
to Jesus Christ, he meant to indicate that the
expression " Son of God " is used of Him in a sense
in which it can be applied to none other. There was
and could be but one " Son of God " in this supreme
sense. Jesus Christ was the only Son of that kind.
The force of the word was correctly appreciated by
the earlier Latin versions pf the Creed, in which it is
translated by " unicus," the " pnly " pr " unique Spn " :
it is pnly in later versipns that we find the less
accurate " unigenitus " pr " pnly-begptten."
The idea pf the " eternal generation " of the Son is,
no doubt, one of the raost puzzling and difficult of
theological technicalities. Perhaps part of the endless
perplexities which it has created may be removed by
simply going back to this its original meaning.
Originally and historically the word was used to
express this fundamental and all-important, but
surely not unintelligible Christian idea, that Jesus
Christ was the Son of God in a sense in which no
other being ever was or can be. He represents God,
he reveals God's nature in a way which no pther has
dpfle or (we believe) can do. His relation to God the
Father, His relation to Humanity, is solitary, un
paralleled, unique ; and there are, I think, not many
critics of the Gospel who will not admit that no less
than this, as a mere raatter of history, Jesus did claim
for Himself No doubt to the Jew, " Son of God "
meant primarily "the Messiah," but Messiahship
(as Jesus interpreted it) did imply this universal
claim. At the present day many writers are trying, and to
my mind are rightly trying, to understand and to

THE UNIQUE SON 79
translate into terms of njodern thought the language
of traditional theology about the Person of our Lord
Jesus Christ. But those who make such atterapts are
pften tpld bpth by the zealpts pf an uncpmprpmising
prthpdpxy, and by the enemies pf all constructive
Theology, that they are really explaining away what
was raeant by the original fraraers of the Christian
Creed. Undoubtedly there raay sometimes be
grounds for such coraplaints. The true test, as it
seeras to me, between a view of Christ's nature which
can be regarded as a legitimate development of
histprical Christianity, and pne which can pnly be
Ipoked upon as a new and different creed, is this,
" Does it admit the Divine Sonship pf Christ in spme
unique, some solitary sense, or does it make Christ
merely one of many Sons of God ? " Of course, I do
not mean that there may not be important differences
between Theologians who would agree in accepting
Christ, as the only-begptten Spn of God in the sense
which I have defined. But assuredly these differ
ences meh into insignificance when they are compared
with the broad gulf which separates those who are
agreed in thinking thus of Christ and those whose
theories, expressed though they raay be in the
rhetoric of glowing admiration, yet end by reducing
Him to merely one among many saints or prophets or
founders pf religipns.
We PUght, indeed, tP adrait — we pught rapst strongly
to assert, that Jesus Christ is not the only Son of God,
All raen are born sons of God in one sense ; in another
all men are called to be spns pf Gpd, and may become
so by accepting and appropriating tP themselves the

80 THE UNIQUE SON
relation in which they really stand to the Heavenly
Father, as it has been most completely revealed in
the unique Son, Jesus Christ. It is not merely in the
sense of being creatures of God or objects of his
love that we may in a real sense claim that all men
are sons of God. All men share the divine nature,
since all have Conscience and Reason and Will.
Thus, in a most real sense, every man reveals God to
his fellow-raan. We can only think of God at all by
the analogy of raan ; we can only think of Hira as
Reason and Will and Goodness, however fully we
recognise that these terms are applied to God, as the
Schpplmen said, sensu eminentiori. Dp not those
who pour such lofty scorn upon anthropomorphism
usually end in the raere fetishism of cpnceiving Gpd
in terms pf matter pr of force? If we feel that to
think of God by the analogy of what is highest in
the Universe is at once raore rational and raore
reverent than to liken Him to what is lowest, or to
the simply unintelligible, we raust adrait that in a
very real sense indeed every human soul reveals
God. God is in a manner reproduced in every raan ;
so far he is a son of God. And in a still higher
sense every good man in proportion to his goodness
reveals God to his fellow-men. The highest that we
know in man is the highest that we can think of
God. Even a Philosopher who objects to speaking of
God as moral adraits that he possesses soraething
much better than morality. And what can this word
" better " mean to us but a higher degree of the good
ness which we have learned to reverence in raen ? In
Jesus Christ Humanity attained its highest mpral

THE UNIQUE SON 8i
develppment, and just because pf that perfect
Humanity the cpnscience pf raankind has recognised
in hira a supreme, a unique, in a sense a final
revelation of that God who all through the
world's history had been, by slow, successive stages,
revealing Himself more and raore fully to the
human spirit.
There are some people to whom the formulae of
technical Theology are so sacred, that it seems
almost a profanation to attempt to explain or even
to understand thera. There are others to whom they
have come to seem so arid and repellent, that if
anyone finds a raeaning there which is capable of
reaching the understanding or the heart, they will
promptly tell him that the meaning cannot really
be there. This state of mind might be curiously
illustrated by some of the coraments that have been
made upon the Theology of Robert Browning. It is
hardly denied that Browning's whole being was
penetrated with this idea of Christ as the supreme
revealer, the one paramount representative of God
to man. And yet we have been told by his
biographer* that, thpugh he uses the language pf
Christian Theplpgy, his declaratipns cannpt pf cpurse
be understppd in the sense of prthpdpx Christianity.
Why pf cpurse ? If we tried tP get tp the bpttpm pf
the pld phrases in which prthodox Christianity has
become stereotyped, we should find perhaps some
tiraes that the burning words of a nineteenth century
poet are after all pnly the present-day equivalent
pf the thpughts and wprds pf a St. Jphn in the first
* Mrs. Sutherland Orr.
G

82 THE UNIQUE SON
century, and of an Athanasius in the fourth. If there
be any truth in the way in which I have attempted
to explain this tremendous phrase, " the only-
begotten Son of God," the thought which they
contain is one of which Robert Browning's poetry
is simply full. No doubt in one sense no age can
think about Christ exactly as any other age has
thought. It has not been so in the past ; it is un
reasonable to expect that it will be so in the future.
But we do not worship a different God in raanhood
because our thoughts about Him are different frora
what they were in childhood. God is not less God
to us, but more God, because the thoughts about Him
have grown with our growth. And so we do indeed
want, as it has been boldly said, to reconceive the
Christ, Only let us not assume at starting that the
Christ when reconceived and represented to the
thoughts of our own age or of the next, will be
essentially a different Christ from the Christ of
Christian Theology, or that his Divinity will mean
less to us than it did to our fathers, because other
language than that of technical Theology may
sometimes come most naturally to our lips when
we try to make articulate to ourselves what we
think and feel about Jesus Christ, and because not
until we have so explained it does the traditional
Theology of itself become once more living thought
to us. " That one face, far from vanish, rather grows,
Or decomposes but to recompose." *
* Browning, Epilogue to Dramatis Persona.

THE UNIQUE SON 83
I have insisted upon this idea of the uniqueness of
Christ's position for two reasons. First, on account
of its theoretical importance. There are other
questions about the Person and Office of Christ
(to use the technical theological terms) which many
of you will feel to have no intimate bearing upon the
spiritual life. At all events you feel that you have
not the knowledge, nor the time necessary for acquir
ing the knowledge, to answer them now. Sorae,
even among religiously-minded men, will always be
content to leave many of them to professed Theo
logians. But this question, "Was Christ merely a
good Man and a great Teacher, or was he spmething
more? Is he to be to us simply one of many
teachers, to be discarded possibly sooner or later
because, however valuable in the past, the world is
destined more and more to outgrow His teaching?
Is He to be merely one of raany, or are His claims
upon us unique, supreme, paramount?" — this is a
question which I do not think you can afford to leave
wholly unanswered. Tp this extent the questipn,
"what think ye of Christ?" is one which you must
face. To leave it on one side is virtually to nega
tive any exceptional claim on Christ's part. It is
necessary even for mere intellectual clearness in our
view of the world's history, that we should give some
sort of answer to this question. No doubt this con
viction that Jesus was in some supreme sense the Son
of God cannot rest on raerely intellectual grounds
alone. It is only by some measure of sympathy
that we can understand or enter into the character of
anpther. Except by the analpgy pf Pur pwn ex-

84 THE UNIQUE SON
perience it is impossible even to assure ourselves of
the existence of another soul, still less to enter into
its feelings and thoughts and aims. There must be
something in us capable of responding to the appeal
which the ideal supremely realized in Christ makes
to the conscience before we can say for ourselves,
" Truly this was the Son of God ! " But there are, I
think, very many who do really respond to the moral
appeal of Christ, who do practically strive to take
the life and teaching of Christ as the one supreme
exponent to them alike of the mind of God and of
human duty, who yet find it difficult to attach a
definite meaning to the language in which the
Church has formulated its beliefs about Christ ; they
feel that there is a certain gulf between their
practical wprking cpnvictipns and the language
which, in wprship, the Church puts intp their
mouths. To such minds it may perhaps be a help
to see that, whatever else may still remain obscure
or doubtful to them, those who do in their hearts
accept Christ in this way as the supreme revealer
of the divine ideal of human life, are fully entitled
to call Him, as St. John called Him, the only-
begotten Son of God.
And then let me add one word as to the practical
iraportance of this doctrine. Doubtless there are
many who profess that intellectually they cannot
regard Christ as anything but a good man of com
manding religious genius, who yet do practically in
their own personal life never think of God except as
the sort of Being whom Christ has made us feel Him
to be, and whom the world before Christ never did

THE UNIQUE SON 85
feel Him to be. There are others who cannot accept
the Christian or, perhaps, any other view of God's
n^iture, who yet are cpntent practically tp make the
imitatipn pf Christ their mpral ideal. Dpubtless,
Christ has been and is the light pf thpusands pf thpse
whp dp npt call uppn His name. But, nevertheless,
these inadequate views pf Christ's nature and claims
uppn us do tend in the long run to weaken — ^though
they need not always destroy — the supremacy of the
Christian ideals in our hearts and in our lives. The
raoment we put Christ siraply in a line with other
thinkers and other teachers, we assurae an attitude of
criticism towards Him. And that attitude of criti
cism is one which it is difficult to reconcile with the
attitude of loyal and unreserved acceptance and
discipleship by which the Christian faith has wrought
its great spiritual triumphs. I do not mean, of course,
by this that Christ clairas any renunciation of indi
vidual reason or conscience. To criticise is to judge ;
in this sense there must be criticism of Christ's claims
before we accept thera or before we grow into con
scious acceptance of a traditional faith. There must
be judging or criticising to know what Christ has
actually taught; there raust be judging or criticis
ing by the conscience in its very efforts to develope
and apply His teaching to our own individual circum
stances and to the needs of our own age : " he
that is spiritual judgeth all things." But when we
have decided to accept Christ as the supreme Re
vealer, it is not very easy to over-estimate the
spiritual gain, the oneness of aim, the concentration
(if I may so say) of moral energy, which springs

86 THE UNIQUE SON
from the conviction that in the life and teaching and
personality of Jesus Christ— and not outside them
— is to be found for ourselves and for the world in
which we live the saving Gospel that it is groping
after.* I had intended to conclude with a few words on
the practical importance of making up our minds,
so far as we can, upon this great question of the
claims of Christ. But perhaps 1 can best suggest what
I want to bring out in another way. We have just
lost one who was at the time of his death, with
one exception, the greatest master of the English
language still left among us. Some of the press
notices of the late Professor Seeley show a strangely
inadequate recpgnitipn, as it seems tP me, pf his
true place bpth in EngHsh literature and in English
religipn. The advance of criticism may have
somewhat diminished the value of Ecce Homo as
an historical study t : I do not think it has touched
its usefulness as a help to practical Christianity. To
many in our generation Ecce Homo has taught far
more than such a bopk as Imitatio Christi (with
all its truth and beauty) can teach tP men whp dp
not live in a raedieval monastery about the practical
application of our Lord's moral teaching to the
spiritual needs and the everyday duties of modern
life. To some of us it has come to seem almost
* ' ' Division of value is always a diminution of value ; so that the
highest ideal must be a single ideal." — Wundt, Ethics, vol. i. (E. T.,
1897) P- 99-
t The advance has chiefly consisted in enabling us to appreciate
better Christ's relation to Jewish history and to his environment.

THE UNIQUE SON 87
like the very Gospel itself rewritten in the language
pf the nineteenth century. Its declared purppse is
simply tP cpnstitute an historical inquiry into the
ethical teaching of Jesus Christ. With Theology,
strictly speaking, it does not avowedly concern itself
at all. And yet the writer who summed up the
essence of Christ's teaching in the famous phrase,
" the enthusiasm of humanity," found that he could
not give an historical account of what Christ taught
or of the reasons of His success without recognising
in the fullest and most explicit manner the claim to
a unique personal authority which is implied as much
in the Sermon on the Mount as in the Johannine
version of the Master's life. A morality which is
essentially bound up with a devotion to a Person is
already a religion. 1 hardly know of any book that
appeals so directly to the conscience of a man
anxious, amid all difficulties intellectual and prac
tical, to get an answer for his own soul's sake to
the old questipn, " What raust I dp tp be saved ? "
The bppk is thrpughput intensely practical, and yet
it distinctly implies a Theology, a Theology which
may be all the raore impressive to some minds
because it is more often iraplied than expressed.
Had its author attempted to sum up that implied
Theology in a sentence, he would perhaps have
expressed himself in some such words as these,
which 1 take from a like-minded writer whose
name is revered in this place : " For raost of us,"
said Arnold Toynbee, "Christ is the expression of
God, i.e., the eternal fact within us and without us.
In tirae of peril, of failing, and of falsehood, the one

88 THE UNIQUE SON
power that enables us to transcend weakness is tbe
feeling of the communion of the two eternal facts
in Christ."*
* Notes and Jottings, published at the end of The Industrial
Resolution, p. 244.

VI.
THE HISTORIC CHRIST
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's,
1896.
"And Philip said, If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest.
And he answered and said, I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of
God." — Acts viii. 37.
IT is well known that these words form no part of
the original text of the Acts. Our Bpdleian
Codex Laudianus is the only uncial MS. which
contains them. But they possess an historical interest
assuredly not inferior to what they would have
possessed had they proceeded from the pen of St.
Luke himself For they had crept into some copies
as early as the tirae of Irenseus. They form, beyond
doubt, an extract from sorae baptismal service-book
dating from the middle of the second century at latest,
and in all probability much earlier. Creeds were, of
course, originally baptismal professions of faith.
Here, then, we have presented to us the earliest
creed of the Catholic Church. For at least a
century after her foundation the Church required
from candidates fpr her membership — and even
from candidates for her ministry — no other formal
89

90 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
profession of faith than this : " I believe that Jesus
Christ is the Son of God."
Many of us find it difficult to look back upon those
early days of Christianity without wishing that the
Church had never attempted further to elaborate her
authoritative standards of faith. But, when we give
expression to such a wish, we are sometimes met by
the protest that a principle of develppment is pf
the essence of the Christian faith ; that iti was part
of Christ's plan that His work should be carried on
by His Church, and that it is unhistorical and un-
philosophical to insist that Christianity shall mean
no more to us than it meant to the simplest and least
instructed convert in the first ages of the Church.
And in recent tiraes we find the plea for a raore
elaborate, a more formulated, a raore dogmatic
Christianity echoed in a quite opposite quarter. We
hear eloquent voices calling upon us to abandon the
futile attempt to get back to the historic Christ, to
reconstruct His actual teaching, and to limit our con
ception of Christianity to belief in what He actually
taught and what He historically was and did. An
ideal, we are told, grows, and is not made. It may
originate in a sense in one mind, but that mind is
itself the product and outcome of earlier streams of
thought and feeling. And development starts again
the moment the new thought begins to take root in
other minds ; so that a generation later it becomes
utterly impossible to disentangle the actual teaching
of the Master from the teaching of his school — to see
his ideas as he himself conceived them in entire
abstraction from all that has been read into them

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 91
or evolved out of them under the influence of other
ideas and other environments. And it is not
necessary or even desirable that we should do so.
The value of the Christian ideas about God
and about human life (we are assured) are not
affected by the question how far they have Christ's
authority. The beauty and the truth of the Christian
ideal is not dependent upon the possibility of tracing
back all its features to the historical Christ. Let us
frankly acknowledge (it is urged) that, while un
doubtedly the germ of the long development must,
as an historical fact, be sought in the powerful impulse
given to the religious and the moral consciousness by
a man of exceptional religious genius, yet the ideal
itself is pf sIpw and gradual fprmatipn ; that, thpugh
elements of it are permanent, other elements are ever
changing ; each Christian age has contributed some
thing to the ever-growing treasure of the Christian
Society ; each has inherited all the true wealth of all
the ages, while it discards the errprs and the exaggera-
tipns and the limitatipns pf its predecessprs. It is pur
wisdpm npt tp aim at reproducing a past which has
for ever vanished, or an ideal which is essentially
bound up with an intellectual and a social environ
ment very different from ours, but to raake the most
of our rich heritage of Christian thought and devotion
and experience, and yet to be ever ready to catch
what the Spirit has to say to the Churches of Pur
Pwn day.
Npw whether this plea fpr the recpgnitipn pf
development be urged from the ultra-dograatic or
from the idealising point pf view, there can be np

92 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
doubt that it does represent a very important truth.
This principle of development is inherent in the very
plan of Christianity. Had Christ really atterapted in
detail to anticipate and to provide for the intellectual
and the moral needs of distant ages, the very attempt
would have been sufficient refutation of the claims
which His religion makes to permanence, to uni
versality, to finality. It was in part just this capacity
for development which constituted its uniqueness.
Had "the deposit of the faith" been a hard, un
yielding formula or collection of formulae, it would
have been like the unquickened seed which abideth
alone. It was because it had in it the germ of a
growth richer and more glorious than itself that it
has become the tree in the branches whereof the
nations of the earth have taken up their lodgment.
This was the idea of Christianity frora the very first
— our Lord's own idea, unless we are to suppose the
disciple so much wiser than His Master. " It is
expedient for you that I gp away ; for if I go not
away the Comforter will not come unto you." " He
shall take of mine, and shall show it untp ypu."
It is, therefpre, quite reaspnable when we are tpld
npt tP pbject tp sprae formula about Christ's nature
and work because we cannot find it in the actual
words of Christ Himself or in the text of the
apostolic writers. But, if we recognise that it is
natural and reasonable that the Church of the fourth
century should see spme things abput Christ and his
relatipn to God which might not have been discovered
even by St. Paul and St. John, it is completely un
reasonable to limit this inspiration of development to

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 93
the first century or to the fourth. The Church of
Christ is not dead because General Councils have
ceased to sit. Even in the fourth century Councils
did but give expression and acceptance to thoughts
which had originated in the solitary studies of
individual Theologians, and in the consciousness of
the Christian society at large. The Spirit is no less
taking of Christ's and showing it to us, because
the machinery of ecclesiastical Synods no longer
cpmmands the parampunt pr exclusive authority
which the Church was once disposed to accord to
it. Nor need we be alarmed if critical' analysis
should pronounce —
" The life-stream rich whereat we drink,
Commingled, as we needs must think.
With waters alien to the source."
If we admit that God's Spirit has not worked ex
clusively within the limits of the Christian Church,
there is no reason why we should necessarily reject
either a doctrinal formula or a moral idea because it
represents a fusion of some Jewish or Christian
thought with the Philpsophy of Plato or of
Aristotle. All this raay be freely admitted — nay, emphasised.
There can be no Christianity without the Church. It
is the fatal mistake of Protestantism, or rather,
perhaps, of some very modern forms of Protes
tantisra, to attempt to get rid of the idea and the
authority of the Church, instead of widening and
elevating our conception of both. But all the same,
the advocates of a dogmatic and the advocates of an
undogmatic development do seem both in different

94 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
ways disposed to under-estimate the importance of
arriving at a true historical picture of what Jesus
Christ actually was, said, did.
It is true enough, no doubt, that the traditional
doctrines about the Person of Christ may none the
less be true — may none the less represent the
inferences which ought logically to be drawn from
the facts presented by the Gospel history — because,
as a matter of fact, they were not explicitly drawn till
a later date. But the advocates of doctrinal develop
ment seem sometimes to forget that the value of the
development must after all, in part at least, depend
upon the conception of the historical facts which were
formed by the people who drew these inferences.
Now it can hardly be seriously denied that in
certain respects the picture which the fourth century
formed to itself of the nature of Christ's Personality
was an unhistorical picture. More and more, as the
historic environment of Christ's earthly life receded
into the backgrpund, the key was lost to much in
Christ's teaching which, with our richer historical
knowledge and our developed instinct of histprical
recpnstructipn, we raay now hope to understand.
The historic Christ more and raore disappeared
from men's view, and was superseded by a meta
physical Christ, whose humanity was, indeed,
acknpwledged in wprd, but whp lacked all the
attributes of the humanity which we know. If He was
still a man, He was a completely non-natural man.
I do not doubt that even this one-sided develppment
had some spiritual advantages. But, if spmething
was gained, assuredly much was lost. We raay still

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 95
see in the phrases of the Nicene Creed, "Of one
substance with the Father," and the like, the expres
sion in the language of fourth-century Philosophy of
a truth of which the more characteristically modern
expression must be sought in the Theologians (not
excluding the Poet-theologians) of our own day.
But let us frankly acknowledge that such formulae
can never mean to us exactly what they meant to the
men of the fourth or the fifth century.
We may believe what they tell us about the in
dwelling of the divine Word ; we can no longer
accept their practical denial of Christ's human
limitations. And that means that we have got to
reinterpret to ourselves the symbols of the past, as
the symbpls of the past themselves were reinterpre-
tations of the simpler Creed of primitive Christianity.
And to see what the Nicene Creed is to mean to us,
we must go back to the actual consciousness of
Christ. For our belief in the divine Sonship of
Jesus must, at least, be based upon what we believe
it to have raeant for Him. Every age has got to
reinterpret the creed which it has received in the
light of its own ruling ideas ; and, beyond all possi
bility of doubt, the ruling idea of our own age is to
be found in the historical way of looking at things.
Neither Theology nor Philosophy, neither dogma nor
sentiment, raust be allowed to prevent the individual
in proportion to his opportunities, and the Church at
large in proportion to her opportunities, from doing
all that in them lies — honestly, laboriously, reverently
— to find out what Christ was and said, and thought,
and did. Upon this foundation Philosophy and

96 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
Theology may be rightly called upon to build their
superstructures of gold, silver, precious stones, wood,
hay, stubble; Christian dogma is the result— the
necessary and indispensable result — of reflection
upon the life and teaching of Christ and on the
consciousness which they reveal. But other founda
tion can no man with any spiritual advantage lay
than that which is laid by the facts of history.
And the answer which we tender to the attempts
to substitute a Christ of dogmatic development for
the Christ of the Gospels, we must tender also to the
attempts to substitute a Christ pf philpspphical
thepry for a Christ of flesh and blood. We are
sometimes invited to avert our gaze from the Christ
of history to a living Christ. But for us, assuredly,
an unhistorical Christ can no longer be a living Christ.
It is true that elements in the Christian ideal raay be
no less true and no less valuable because they may
not all of them have been fully developed, elaborated,
and applied in the life and teaching of the historic
Jesus. But it is forgotten that, as a simple matter
of experience, the influence of this Christian ideal has
been based upon the conviction that it was actually
embodied in an historic life. True, the Christians of
some ages may have dwelt comparatively little upon
the actual facts of the Gospel history. Many good
Christians have known little of Christ after the flesh ;
but, in the first place, it is not proved that those
ages did not suffer grievous spiritual loss by their
neglect or their ignorance, or that the Madonna of
medieval imagination was a satisfactory substitute
for that Christ of history which the Reformation at

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 97
least began to restore to us. And, secondly, however
shadpwy raay have been the picture which some
individuals or some ages may have formed of the
Man of Sorrpws, it was always believed that He had
really lived as their imaginatipns painted Him.
Np generatipn has ever cpntinued to adore or to
imitate a Christ whom it has really believed to be un
historical. It is true, in the words of a recent article,
that "the Christs of faith are raany and various,
changing their features with the changing features
of man."* Yes, but each of thera represented an
honest attempt — ^however uninformed — to picture
Chrif5t as He really was. And it cannot perma
nently be otherwise for ourselves. On its theological
side, the value of Christ's life consists in the belief
that here once, in the cpurse pf histpry, Gpd spake to
man face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend —
that in the character of Jesus, as it is disclosed to us
by word and act, we see mirrored the character
of God, and that in His consciousness of intimate
union with God can find an assurance of God's
nature and God's love such as we fail to find with
equal fulness in the unassisted religious consciousness
of other men. It is not (as some would suggest) that
we are seeking after a sign — hankering after some
external guarantee, as it were, of God's existence and
His nature: certainly the revelation would be nothing
to us if it did not appeal to something in us that is
akin to itself But we feel that we see in the con
sciousness of Christ what we cannot find in any other
* Mr. David O'Connor in the Contemporaty Review (September,
1896). H

98 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
mind, except in those that have learned it from Him.
We find Him claiming a direct communion with God,
and a direct authority, such as we do not find other
sober religious souls claiming for themselves. Half
the value — to say no more — of the Gospel picture of
Christ's religious consciousness would be gone for us
if we were compelled to read in it, not what an actual
huraan soul once felt and thought, but merely what
the imagination of His disciples postulated that He
must have felt. And so on the moral side the inspir
ing, compelling, regulating force of the Christian
ideal would be gone if we were compelled to see in
the Gospel picture of Christ's life and words a mere
religious romance which owes much of its attractive
ness (as it is sometimes hinted) to some judicious
instinct of selection and of omission on the part of
His followers. It is but a commonplace to say — and
yet in the face of such speculation it raust be said
again — that of all the forces which make for righteous
ness the influence of personality is still the strongest.
A character in a novel or a play may move us, raay
interest, may even in a sense inspire us, but it cannot
be to us what the influence of the living person can
be. Attempt to make the imitation of the Tragedian's
Antigone or the Stoic's "wise man" the guiding star of
your life, and you will soon feel the difference between
the historic person, known and felt to be historic, and
the imaginary person known and recognised as un
historical. Better, more stimulating, more helpful a
thousandfold, some struggling faulty life of warra flesh
and blood that has really grappled with temptation
and come out not wholly vanquished, with all its sins

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 99
and all its shortcomings painted with the blackest
brush that the most remorseless of biographers has
ever wielded, than some imaginary portrait drawn by
the selective imagination of discipleship or some
frigid make-believe of modern metaphysical rhetoric !
The raeraory of a very ordinary father or teacher
would be more to us by far in the hour of tempta
tion, in the real battle of life, would it not, than the
sublimest picture that hagiological imagination ever
painted, when once its fictitiousness is discovered?
Better the Christ of Renan, with all his self-delusion,
his exaltation, his fanaticisra, his sensuous imaginings,
than a Christ whom we have once suspected to be a
mythical growth or a philosophic idea. We may be
told to " go home and venerate the myth " — yes, for
others ; but for ourselves no longer when once we
have found it to be a myth. More intelligible the
Philosophers who cry out for another Christ than
thpse whp call uppn us blindly to fall down and
worship a Christ whom our Philosophy has created
or Pur Pwn criticism destrpyed! Faith has been
defined, and npbly defined, as a " vpluntary certainty
abput things unseen " ; it is npt, it cannpt be, a volun
tary ignorance of things which we raight see and
know if we would but open our eyes. And therefore,
while we are grateful to the Philosophers who are
helping us to understand those two articles of tbe
later Creed, " I believe in the Holy Ghost, I believe
in the Holy Cathplic Church," we pught tP be,
perhaps, rapre grateful tP the Theologians who are
helping us to reconstruct for ourselves that earliest
Christian Creed, " I believe that Jesus Christ is the

TOO THE HISTORIC CHRIST
Son of God " — who are helping us to see what Son-
ship meant to the first Christians, and above all to
Christ Himself For this must be the basis, at least,
of what it means tp us.
I cannot, of cpurse, attempt tP reprpduce all that
may be learnt frpm such a book as Wendt's Teaching
of fesus. There is probably no recent work which
has done so much to help us to understand the
historic Christ* Let me be content with suggesting
three points which will, I think, become plain tp mpst
people who read such a book with an open raind.
(i) We can assign no real meaning to the idea of
the divine Sonship of Jesus unless we recognise that
it contains a truth about human nature in general
and its relation to God. In a sense every man is
a son of God — every man has in him soraething of
the Divine. In the reason and the will and the
conscience of every raan there is contained a real
revelation of God, and a progressive revelation —
growing as raan's reason and will and conscience
grow, and in a still higher sense growing in propor
tion as man responds in act to the demands which
this rational and moral nature make upon him. And
conversely this doctrine about raan iraplies a certain
view of the nature of God. Only if we believe that
God has soraething in Him in common with the
nature of man — only if we believe that He is essen-
* Beyschlag's New Testament Theology (E. T. by Buchanan,
189s) deserves to be mentioned side by side with Wendt. The general
coincidence in results (amid minor differences) between the two writers
is very remarkable. Beyschlag's treatment of Christ's actual teaching,
being briefer and more attractively written than Wendt's, might be read
by some who would find Wendt somewhat technical.

THE HISTORIC CHRIST loi
tially the Trinity of Power and Intellect and Good
ness or Love — can we understand how he can be in
any real sense revealed in man. Only if we believe
that He is in some measure revealed in every man
can we attach any intelligible meaning to the asser
tion that to one man His Spirit was given not by
measure. But (2) criticism is ever making it raore and raore
plain that it is historically impossible, as it is
spiritually disastrous, to attempt to get rid of
Christ's claira to a unique Sonship. There is (I
think) no fact about Christ's life about which there is
so general a tendency to agreement as this — that
He did claim to be the Messiah. When St. Peter
made his great confession at Caesarea Philippi,
when the primitive Christian professed the same
faith at Baptism, this was primarily what he meant
— that Jesus was the Messiah. And in a Jew the
most elementary profession of faith in the Messiah-
ship of a crucified malefactor implied a kind of
Messiahship which far transcended the ordinary
Jewish conception of a merely national, if super
natural, King. And still more clearly in the con
sciousness of Jesus Himself it must be asserted that
this claim to Messianic Sonship amounted to no less
than this — a claim to a unique relationship both
towards God and towards the whole human race.
The conception may have grown and developed,
as the development of our Lord's own consciousness
threw light on His study of the prophets. Already
at the Temptation the sense of Messiahship was
there : already the Jewish conception of Messiah-

I02 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
ship had been transcended and spiritualised ; and
ever more and more distinctly the idea of the
Messianic Kingdom passed into the conception of
a great spiritual empire of universal significance,
and eventually into an ever clearer and deeper
conviction that it was somehow through His own
sufferings and death, through His continued influence
in the world and the relation of His followers to Him
in His heavenly life, that this Kingdom of God was to
be set up on earth. Of course criticism cannot pre
vent us from regarding all this Messianic conscious
ness of Christ as mere delusion if we are so minded ;
but it can and does (as it seems to me) leave us no
alternative between recognising in this consciousness
a unique spiritual fact of cosmic significance and
ceasing to assign to Christ the central place that he
has heretofore occupied in the world's adoration.
Christ then must be recognised as the Unique
Son — the /xocoyeVijj vTos in the true and original sense
of that term* — not only on account of His actual
place in history, but also on account of His excep
tional consciousness of a filial relation to God and of
God's fatherly relation to Him. His knowledge of
God's nature, His sense of God's Fatherhood, His
sense of a divine mission, His perception of the
true ideal for man, His realization of that ideal in
actual life — all were such as npne had ever knpwn
befpre. (3) But thirdly, when this has once been admitted,
when once we have admitted the solitary majesty of
the religious and moral consciousness of Jesus, weought
* See above, p. 77.

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 103
to go on to insist that all He claims for Himself He
claims also for the whole human race through Him.
It was the very object of His life to communicate to
others also this consciousness of God's love, this con
sciousness of Sonship, this ppwer of doing God's will
that He experienced in such supreme wise in the
depths of His own soul. We should feel less difficulty
perhaps than is soraetiraes found in those Johannine
discourses of Christ about His relation to the Father,
if we noticed sufficiently that everything, or (to be
quite safe) nearly everything — that the Johannine
Christ claims for Himself He claims for His followers
too in the measure of their actual consciousness of it ¦
— with just this difference, that it was through. Him
self and His teaching that He felt it possible for other
men to attain in whatever measure they should attain
to that walk with God pf which He was cpnscious.
Everywhere, with this solitary and yet raomentous
difference, there is an exact parallelism between what
Jesus says of Himself and what He reveals about the
true relation of others to God, however little they
may know or realize it. " The Father loveth the Son
, . . the Father himself loveth you." " As the Father
hath life in himself, even so gave he to the Son also
to have life in himself" " Verily, verily, I say unto
you, he that believeth hath eternal life. Because
I live, ye shall live also." " He that believeth on
me, the works that I do shall he do also, and greater
works than these shall he do." " I and my Father
are one." " Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the
Son of God, God abideth in him and he in God."
" 1 have overcome the world." " Whatsoever is born

I04 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
of God overcometh the world." "To as many as
received him gave he power to become the sons
of God." To make men feel the love pf Gpd as
He felt it, and do the will of God as He did it —
that is the supreme object of Christ's revelation to
the world.
And does not experience confirm this claira of
Christ — the experience of history at large, the ex
perience of saints, whatever popr experience the
hurablest beginner in the Christian life arapng us
may possess about such things. It were unprofit
able to speculate how near the saints of God have
attained to what Christ attained. But this much
is certain — that the nearer they have reached, the
more fuUy they would have acknowledged that they
attained it through Christ and what He taught.
Many of us, no doubt, first realize to some extent
what the Christian ideal is — I mean not merely as an
external rule of life, but what the Christian character
is in its relations both to God and to man — by
seeing it embodied in some living, or at least in
some modern, follower of Christ. Many pf us find
in some half-dozen rnodern biographies the most
bracing spiritual reading that we know. But it is
after all by revealing Christ that such men them
selves become revealers of God to other men. The
best that they have in them came from Christ. They
have felt the consciousness of sonship because Christ
felt it first. The best that they do for others is to
lead men to Christ.
Christ then was the Son of God by what in actual
fact He felt Himself to be, not merely by what the

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 105
world has come to believe about Him. But, when
once the unique character of our Lord's conscious
ness is admitted as the germ of the Christian
development, we may quite reasonably regard the
historical circumstances of His appearance and the
historical consequences that have followed that
appearance as confirming and establishing the
position which Christian Theology assigns to Christ.
Some people seem to hesitate to recognise Christ's
claira to a solitary Sonship, and to lose the clearness
and concentration of religious feeling which results
from that recognition, not because they think that
any other man that had ever lived, or is likely tp
live, can actually dispute His religious and moral
supremacy, not because they really wish to put any
one else in His place as Lord and Master, but because
they cannot get rid of the feeling that it is to some
extent an historical accident — that it is due to the
combination of the favouring circumstances that pre
ceded and followed His appearance that the great
spiritual revolution implied in Christianity connected
itself with the name of this particular Jewish teacher.
They seera afraid lest the recognition of Christ's
suprerae position should be inconsistent with the
idea of religious evolution before Christ and after
Christ. Does not such an attitude spring at bottom
from an unwillingness to recognise in history the
will of a personal God ? If as a matter of history it
is through Christ alone that we have come to the
highest knowledge that we have of God, and the
highest conception of that ideal which He wills for
man, that can be no mere accident. To anyone who

io6 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
believes in God, such a relation pf one historical
character to God and man can be no mere chance
product of evolutionary forces.
Granted, if you like, that we cannpt disprpve the
ppssibility pf an unknpwn, undiscpvered Christ in
spme rempte backwater pf history, granted that the
Father might (had it pleased Him) have revealed Him
self through some other life (the Schoolmen were
wont to debate such questions), surely it is enough
for us that He has not done so. An unknown revela
tion, it is clear, would be no revelation at all. Admit,
if you like, the speculative possibility of another
Christ yet to come : surely it will be time enough to
consider such unraotived possibilities when anyone
can actually — I will not say realize in detail — ^but
present us with some intelligible suggestion of any
higher conception of God than is irnplied in Christ's
revelation of God's Fatherhood, or any higher con
ception of human life than is implied in His ideal
of Sonship to God and Brotherhood to all men.
Christ was the first to present us with that ideal
in its fulness. All subsequent realizations of it have
sprung out of His : surely that is enough for us.
Granted that Christ was raade possible by a long
course of religious evolution, and that a long course
of religious evolution has been necessary to give Him
the significance which He actually possesses for the
world of to-day, and to develope in detail the ideal
which originated with Him, that is no objection to
our recognising in the historic Christ a supreme act
of God's self-communication to the world ; it is no
objection except when evolution is thought of, not as

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 107
the work of God, but as a substitute for God. It is
very largely indeed just because it does thus erapha
sise the personality of God, that the idea of his
definite self- revelation to and by pne Man at a
definite time in human histpry is so valuable to us.
A God who is only a tendency, or a law, or a force,
or an unconscious I know not what, which after long
and coraplicated unconscious strivings at last attains
to consciousness of Himself in man — ^such a God, we
may admit, can pnly be supppsed tp reveal Himself
in a prpcess pr a tendency, fpr He is pnly a name fpr
the prpcess pr the tendency itself Only, if He is
perspnal — a Mind, a Thinker, a Will — can He be
supposed to reveal Himself in one Person raore than
another. A God who is a Person may reveal Himself
in one man — not in one man exclusively, but to and
in one man in a pre-eminent and paramount manner
at a particular raoraent of human history, selected
and predestined just because it was the moment
fitted for the development of the ideas which in germ
and essence were present in the consciousness of the
personal Revealer.
But, it may be asked, have you not proved too
much? If the value of our belief in Christ lies
largely in this, that it safeguards the belief in a
personal God and Father, is it not enough to believe
in such a God, whatever we think about the historical
facts of Christ's life and consciousness? Is it not
enough to believe that the Christian ideal of character
is the revelation at once of God's nature and of
man's duty, no matter how that Christian ideal his
torically grew up? Well, it is quite true that we

io8 THE HISTORIC CHRIST
should not aim at widening the gulf between our
selves and those who believe all that we believe about
God, even if they are unable to see in the historic
Christ any suprerpe incarnation of the God whom
they thus conceive. If it is impossible to make an
idol of Christ, there is a real danger lest we should
make an idol pf what is called Christplpgy. Never
let us forget that the value of our, belief about
Christ lies in what it helps us to believe about
God, and to realize imperfectly in our own lives.
Loyalty to Christ, in Christ's own teaching, always
means acceptance of his teaching and fulfilment of
his commands. But it is matter of experience that
this belief about Christ as the historical Son of God
does really help us both in thought and in worship
and in life. Certainly acceptance of Christ's ideal
of life is the great thing ; but it helps us to believe
that this ideal was once proclaimed by one who felt
that He had authority to teach it, and who realized in
His life all that He taught.
It is so much easier to believe in and to be loyal
to a person than to an idea. I may perhaps best
express what I mean by means of an analogy.
It is no doubt impossible to believe in duty as the
will of God unless we first believe in duty. We
must believe in an eternal, ineffaceable, essential
difference between good and evil before we can
look upon the good as commanded by a God who
is essentially good. And yet does not conscience
become a totally different thing to those who
hear in its dictates the voice of God? Belief in
God presupposes belief in morality, and yet belief

THE HISTORIC CHRIST 109
in morality almost necessitates — certainly it deside
rates for its own' perfection— a belief in God. Even
so it is impossible to believe in the revelation of
God tly-ough Christ without believing that God is
a Person ; and yet nothing can so strengthen and
cultivate that belief in God as a Person capable of
loving and of being loved — nothing can so tend to
strengthen the hold of that supreme truth upon
the heart and the will — as the conviction that He
who reveals Himself in spme measure in the cpn
science of every man is present pre-eminently,
uniquely, eternally, in the consciousness of the Man
whora He appointed. To believe in the Son raakes
it so much easier to believe in the Father.

.VII.
REVELATION BY CHARACTER
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's,
1894.
" Our sufficiency is of God ; who also made us sufficient as ministers of
a new covenant ; not of the letter, but of the spirit : for the letter
killeth, but the spirit giveth life." — 2 CoR. iii. 5, 6.
THE Christian Revelation has two aspects — a
moral aspect and a theological aspect. There
is a revelation about God and his nature, and there
is a revelation about man and his duty. But these
two revelations cannot, of course, be looked upon as
standing side by side, in entire independence of
one another. We cannot look upon the Christian
Revelation as containing on the one hand a body of
theological propositions, and on the other hand a
body of moral precepts, which last have no connexion
with the former, except as being the coraraands of the
Being to whom the theological propositions relate.
That is a mistake which has often been raade in the
history of Theology, but it is one which, in its cruder
forms, is little likely to be made at the present day.
It is, indeed, the essential characteristic of the
Christian Revelation that it brings God and Man

REVELATION BY CHARACTER iii
to. jether, or, rather, that it declares and sets forth the
eteenal fact that God and Man in the divine scheme
of things were always thus united. Whatever be the
nature of God, that must necessarily be the ideal of
human life and character. What God is, that man
was eternally meant to be. In revealing the Divine
Nature, Christ was necessarily revealing human duty :
in setting forth the true ideal of huraan life, Christ
was necessarily revealing the eternal nature of God,
Man has never been able to form a higher ideal of
God than was supplied by his highest ideal of
humanity, though, alas ! his ideal of God has too
pften fallen belpw his ideal pf raan. The pagan
religipns, at certain mpments and in certain aspects,
as we are constantly told even to exaggeration,
had little connexion with raorality : and a great
-Philosopher has recently drawn a picture of the
Absolute which seems to some of us to fall as much
below the lowest of current moralities as the morality
of Plato soared above that of the deities which were
worshipped in his time.* But for those who believe
that truth is one and not many, fpr thpse to whom
all human knowledge is not a mere "appearance," God
can as little be above morality as he can be below
it. For thera a revelation of God (if such a revelation
there be) must needs be a revelation of duty; a
revelation of goodness must needs be a revelation
of God.
That God is revealed after a unique raanner in
Christ is and must always be the central truth of any
Christianity that can aspire to be regarded as in any
» Cf. above, p, 14-

112 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
sense an absolute, a permanent, or a final religi&n.
But as to the method and character of that revela
tion, as to what revelation means, it is impossibl,^ for
any but a very superficial observer to doubt that a
great change is coraing over the religious thought of
our time, as much with many of those who repudiate
as with thpse whp welcpme the idea pf theplpgical
prpgress pr develppment. It may help us, I think,
to clearer views on this moraentous subject if we
confine ourselves for a moment to the purely ethical
side of this revelation. To many minds the very
idea of a revelation in ethics raises a hpst pf diffi
culties. I will npt dwell uppn the effprts which
have been made tp shpw that the teaching pf Christ
cpntained npthing new. Fpr in truth the atterapt tp
pick Christianity tp bits, and tP shpw that each bit
pf it taken by itself was anticipated by such and such
an ancient seer or thinker, is as great an anachronisra
as that atpraistic view pf human nature which can
see in the human raind npthing but an aggregate pf
isolated ideas or feelings or impressions or whatever
they may be called, jostling up against one another
in vacuo as it were, and in human society nothing but
a collection of isolated individuals, each of which is
what he is entirely apart from his relation to the
rest. In the fashipnable cant pf the day we might
say that the teaching pf Christ must be looked upon
as an organic unity, not as a mere aggregate of
disconnected precepts. And, though no intelligent
Theologian will conceive that he has any interest in
denying the approximations to Christian teaching
which raay be found in previous thought, whether

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 113
Jewish, Greek, or Oriental — though no one who
believes that morality is rational will wish to mini
mise the common element which is to be found in
all the higher ethical and religious teaching of the
world — no serious thinker, I suppose, of the present
day will care to deny that, taken as a whole,
Christianity was a new thing in the world — a new
thing not to be accounted for by any mere con
glomerate of previous systems, or by any theory of
spontanepus evplutipn which leaves put pf accpunt
the perspnality pr the priginality pf its Founder.
It is of more importance to consider some of those
difficulties which are based upon the very nature
of morality itself To any system of moral rules
claiming to be pf universal validity, whether they are
supposed to be independent deliverances of the
moral consciousness or whether they are referred
back to spme wider principle of social utility,
a whole host of objections necessarily springs up.
Moral rules, it may be said, raust necessarily be
relative to tirae and place. A rule of action raost ex
pedient in one age raust become wholly inexpedient
in another. The mpst far-seeing mpralist cannpt
anticipate the march pf events and lay dpwn the
rules pf actipn which will be demanded by a spcial
system yet unbprn. -Were he to succeed in such an
anticipation, it would be at the cost of becoming
simply unintelligible, or worse than unintelligible, to
the men of his own and of the iraraedlately succeed
ing generations. And then, if we confine ourselves
to one age, one country, one set of social conditions,
what, it may be asked, is the real utility of a body
I

114 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
of rules? There are no rules which admit of no
exceptions. The attempt has often been made to
find moral rules of less width than the general
principle of promoting the general good and the
most equal distribution of it — which shall admit
of no exceptions, and the attempt has in general
conspicuously failed ; that is to say, the attempt
nearly always fails, except when we import into the
terms of our moral prohibition the absence of those
conditions which might justify the act otherwise for
bidden. The rule against lying undoubtedly admits
of no exceptions, supposing we agree to exclude from
the category of lying all untrue statements which are
not condemned by the enlightened conscience, the
untruths of poUteness or of sarcasm, the untruths
that we tell to the madman or the would-be assassin,
the untruths of the actor and of the duly authorised
detective. "Thou shalt do no murder" has no ex
ceptions if we say that killing is no murder when
it is done in self-defence, in lawful war, or at the
behest of the civil magistrate. And, if the seventh
commandment be quoted as an instance of a pro
hibition to which the highest raorality knows of no
exception, there is still the difficulty of defining the
conditions of lawful marriage ; for there are many
points of matrimonial law upon which Christian
Churches [of the most undeniable orthodoxy have
wavered considerably, and are not entirely agreed
even now. How then are we to get over this
difficulty inherent in any attempt to formulate the
moral law even for the men of a single age or
a single country? Are we compelled to give up

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 115
the effort, even the tentative effort to formulate
approximations to moral rules, and to abandon
raorality entirely to the momentary, uncalculating,
unreasoning caprice of each individual moment and
each individual agent ? We may, I think, help our
selves out of the difficulty by appealing to a writer
who, though utilitarian and completely naturalistic,
has in this matter seen deeper into the heart of the
spiritual life than is comraon with his school. He
admits that the solution of our difficulty was first
effected by Christianity. "The clear enunciation
of one principle," says Mr. Leslie Stephen, " seems to
be characteristic of all the great moral revolutions."
And the new principle which Christianity intro
duced, he goes on to say, " may be briefly expressed
in the phrase that morality is internal. The raoral
law, we raay say, has to be expressed in the form,
' be this,' not in the form, ' do this.' The possibility
of expressing any rule in this form raay be regarded
as deciding whether it can or cannot have a dis
tinctively moral character. Christianity gave pro
minence to the doctrine that the true moral law
says 'hate not,' instead of 'kill not.' The men
of old tirae had forbidden adultery ; the new moral
legislator fprbade lust."* Sp again in the case of
veracity, the external rule, " lie not," has exceptions
unless we define lying as speaking an untruth except
under such and such circumstances — circumstances
which can never be so precisely defined as to antici
pate every possible case of moral perplexity. On
the other hand, the internal rule, "be truthful" or
• The Science of Ethics (1882), p. 155.

ii6 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
"love the truth," has no exceptions. The only
universal rules are rules of character. The truth-
loving man — the man who would feel a pain in
telling a lie, even in obedience to the rarest and most
imperative demands of social duty — he and he alone
can be trusted never tp relax the rule pf veracity
except either in pbedience tp cpnventipns which
really alter the raeaning pf current language, pr at
the behest pf sprae supreme duty pf humanity or
justice. When such a man tells an untruth, he loves
not truth the less, but humanity the more. The only
eternally valid rules are rules of character; and
beyond a certain point character cannot be pre
scribed pr defined by rules at all. Character must,
np dpubt, be revealed by word or act, but the word
and act alike do but suggest the character ; they do
not exhaustively unfold or define it. Neither the
widest formula nor the mpst elaborate system of
moral precepts could ever by itself make a character
live before the mind's eye. -A character can be
understood only as a whole; and it has to be
understood rather by the instinct of sympathy than
by the logical understanding alone.
There is another reason why raorality cannot be
reduced to a systera of rules. The difficulty which
I have already noticed is fatal to any atterapt to
claira for moral "intuitions," as they are called, an
unexceptionable validity so long as intuitions are
regarded as rules prescribing the details of conduct
independently of circumstance or consequence. It
cannot be rational to act without considering the
consequences : indeed, no one has ever succeeded

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 117
in distinguishing between an act and its conse
quences. The consequences, in so far as they can
be foreseen, are part of the act ; and our moral
judgraent of an act raust necessarily be dependent
upon the whole series of events which are intended
by the agent. The real pbjection to Utilitarianisra
lies, as used to be said by our great ethical teacher,*
not in its regard for consequences, so much as in the
nature of the consequences to which it has usually
limited its view. Pleasure is a good, but it is not the
good. And yet when we ask what the good is, what
is that blessed life for all mankind at which every
human action ought to aim, we can as little give
a perfectly adequate or final answer as we could
a priori lay down final and absolutely invariable
rules for special departments of human conduct.
Goodness and Knowledge and the contemplation
of Beauty and Purity and Love, these, we may
say, are elements of the supremely good life : these
are ends in- themselves as well as — much more than
pleasure ; or, in popular language, we may say (if
we please) that the pleasures resulting from these
things are intrinsically higher or worthier than the
pleasures attending upon mere animal satisfac
tion. And yet we feel that the intuitions on which
such judgraents rest can never be accurately defined
or exhaustively set forth in words at all. Any
atterapt to do so would undoubtedly be merely
provisional and temporary : it would necessarily be
limited by the limitations and coloured by the
idiosyncrasies of a particular time or a particular
• Prof, T, H. Green,

ii8 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
school, it may be of a particular nation or a particular
class. Take, for instance, the proposition, "Beauty is
Good." I know that the attempt to apply any but
purely artistic canons to the judgment of Art will
be violently resented in some quarters. And so long
as the judgment is purely aesthetic, I will not dispute
the justice of the protest. But the moment we pass
from the judgraent " this is beautiful " to the
judgraent "this beauty is good to contemplate," or
"this work of Art was right fpr man tp create,"
we pass from the aesthetic region to the mpral. And
as a matter pf fact, in actual practice, aesthetic criti
cism is seldpra pr never purely aesthetic. At least
where the subject-matter of the Art is human life
and character, the Artist's view of them and the
judgment which the critic pronounces upon that
view are always more or less coloured by his own
ideal. In the most realistic Art there is some
selection, and there is some suggestion ; and the
selection and the suggestion must both of them be
governed by some kind of ideal. There is, then,
a morally ennobling Art, and there is an Art that
is not ennobling. And yet how difficult, how
impossible the attempt to define in words the
difference between the two in a way that should
be valid for all tirae, that should enable future
generations to discriminate between the good and
the evil in artistic schools or ideals that are yet
undreamed of! And still more impossible is the
attempt to define in words the relative worth of
the different elements which together make up the

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 119
ideal life for the individual and for societies. Charity
is good, and the pursuit of knowledge is good, and
the contemplation pf beauty is gPod ; hatred of sin
is good, and love of the sinner is good ; meekness
is good, and personal dignity is good. But how to
express the due and proper relation between these
various elements of our ideal? Here, even more
than in the attempt to define the rule pf cpnduct
prescribed by particular virtues, we must recognise
the truth of the principle — "Morality is internal,"
"the letter killeth." The true ideal of human life
can never be adequately set forth in formulae, though
I believe that tentative and progressive attempts at
the scientific analysis of our ideals are of the greatest
possible value. The living character alone can fully
express them : "the spirit giveth life." The man
who loves his neighbour as he should, and who hates
sin as he should, he and he only can prescribe the
attitude which, under such and such particular cir
cumstances, in this or that particular state of society —
the mutual relations of the persons in question being
what they are — should be adopted towards this or
that wrong-doer. And it is the living character
alone that can adequately teach the lesson to others.
" Virtue can be taught, but in this way," as the author
of Ecce Homo has put it, "by personal influence."*
These considerations may, I trust, help us to
understand the real meaning of the term revelation
when applied to the work and the nature of Christ.
The moral ideal, and consequently the nature of
God, have been revealed to us in the only way in
* Ecce Homo, chap. ix.

120 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
which any true and permanent revelation could
possibly be made — in a perfect human character.
There are, indeed, ways of looking at revelation
which are undoubtedly open tp all the pbjectipns
that have ever been urged against the idea. All
atterapts at finding a full and perfect expressipn of
the moral law, or even of any section of it, in a mere
series of propositions taken by themselves must
necessarily be either inadequate or false. If the
propositions are wide and general, they are in
adequate. If they are particular and detailed, they
can never be wholly or exactly true, whether the
propositions be looked for in an infallible book, or in
the utterances of infallible councils of fallible raen, or
in some infallible catena of authorities which learned
men may laboriously construct from some ill-defined
corpus of ancient writers. Even the utterances of
Christ Hiraself, though we do well to attribute to
them an authority which we can ascribe to no other
human words, can only be regarded as a full and
perraanently valid expression of human duty when
taken in their due relation with one another— with the
circumstances of the time, and with all the words
and acts which set forth for us the essential character
of the speaker. Even of the words of Christ Him
self, nay, of them mpre than pf any pther wprds, St.
Paul's saying hplds gppd : " The letter killeth, the
spirit giveth life." Even that new commandraent in
which he summed up the law of his Kingdom would
have been nothing but a quotation from one of the
least spiritual books of the Old Testament,* apart
* Leviticus xix. i8.

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 121
from the parables and the example which gave a new
answer to the question, "Who is my neighbour?"
The love of that neighbour again becomes a wholly
different thing according as we interpret our neigh
bour's needs by the teaching of Christ, or by the
teaching of Epicurus and Bentham. And when we
come to the more detailed precepts, how pitiful have
been the caricatures of Christ's teaching that have
resulted from every atterapt to apply them to the
circumstances of successive ages, after the fashion in
which a judge applies an Act of Parliaraent ! Of the
sayings of Christ, no less than of the infallible
intuitions of certain philosophers, it raay surely be
said that there is hardly one of thera that, under
certain circumstances, might not lead us wrong so
long as we interpret it in the spirit of the mere
lawyer or the mere casuist or the mere exegete. If
we interpret thera literally, we shall become old-
fashioned Quakers or anti-social ascetics or unspiritual
cereraonialists. And if we interpret thera not literally,
npthing but a grasp uppn the character pf Christ
as a whple, npthing but a drinking in pf the spirit pf
Christ Hiraself, can save us frpra explaining them
away altogether. Nothing but the spirit of Christ
can teach us when to see raetaphor or paradox in His
teaching, and when to see literal cpmmand, pr hpw
to penetrate beneath the metaphor or the paradox
of the eternal truth which it was raeant to teach.*
* Cardinal Newman has contended that apart from the judgment of
the Church there is nothing to tell us that the feet-washing was not
intended to be as permanent an institution of Christianity as the
Eucharist. (Prophetical Oflice ofthe Church, 1837, Lecture xii. p. 334. )
He is right, if only the Church be taken to mean the conscience of the
whole Christian Society.

122 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
For no literalist is ever literalist at all points. Those
who have attempted to be most literal in Ethics have
often been most latitudinarian in all that relates to
the Church or the sacraments ; and those who are
most literal as to the Church and the sacraments
have often either been latitudinarian in their inter
pretation of the Sermon on the Mount, or have
introduced a double standard of Ethics, one for the
secular and another for the monk, a principle which
might easily be shown to run as violently counter to
the letter of Christ's teaching as it does to its spirit.
Every utterance of Christ that has come down to us
is infinitely precious as helping us to grasp the
character which inspired it, and the character which
it consequently enjoins upon us. Every result of
criticism that can enable us, even in the minutest
details, to get behind the small conflicts of the Gospel-
narratives with raore and more confidence to what we
can be sure Christ really taught and really did, has
its wprk tp do in clearing up that historic picture of
the Master, through which alone our generation can
penetrate to the eternally valid laws of character which
He has revealed. But let us ever remeraber that it is
the character that is the abiding revelation both of
God and of human life — that alone supplies an
eternally valid " ethical criterion." Rules of cpnduct
require tP be interpreted, restricted, pr develpped in
accprdance with the changing needs of successive
ages, and the inexhaustible variety of human cir
cumstances. Even the revelation which Christ gave
us, or rather the revelation which Christ Himself
eternally is for us, would not be complete (as he Him-

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 123
self taught) without another revelation — the revelation
of the Spirit. Whether any new development or
proposed rule of conduct can or cannot be recognised
by the Christian conscience depends, not so much
upon the question whether or not it can be actually
extracted frora the recorded words of Christ, as upon
the question whether it really flows from the principle
of that teaching, whether we can suppose that in the
present state of human society and human know
ledge it would have been welcomed and acknowledged
by Christ, or such as Christ. That it is no easy task
to make this discrimination is undoubtedly true ; and
no mechanical system can ever make it otherwise than
difficult. " For who- among men knoweth the things
of a raan, save the spirit of man which is within him ?"
Only the spirit of Christ can recpgnise the Spirit pf
Christ. Only in sp far as there is in Pur Pwn hearts
spme measure pf that Spirit which proceeds frora the
Father and the Son shall we be able to recognise the
work which that Spirit is doing in the moral and
religious, the social and intellectual moveraents of
the society in which we dwell. The relation between
the one revelation once raade in the person ard
character of Jesus Christ and the ever-present
prpgressive revelatipn pf the indwelling Spirit tP the
individual and tp the Christian Church pr society
opens up too large a subject to be further pursued just
now. Suffice it for to-day to have pointed out that
it is impossible to acquiesce in any attempt to con
dense into all-sufficient formulae, or propositions, the
teaching contained in either of these two revelations
— in the eternal message which is contained in the

124 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
character of Jesus Christ, or in what the Spirit is
saying unto the Churches in each successive age.
The principle which we have been considering is
not, I think, without a bearing upon certain questions
of present-day controversy. We are rapidly out
living the old mistake of substituting the Bible
for Christ, and again of supposing that revelation
ends abruptly with the close of the New Testament
Canon. Everyone to whom the work of God's Holy
Spirit has not become either a piece of far-off history
or a piece of far-off fable raust syrapathise with the
revived belief in the Christian society as the raediura
of a continuous and progressive revelation to the
hearts of men, a revelation never superseding, but
always bringing out fresh depths of meaning in the
one historic life of Hira to whom the Spirit was
given without measure. So long as we do npt
acquiesce in tpp narrpw a view pf the limits pf
this spciety, pr tPP mechanical a view pf the prgans
through which its true mind is declared, it raust
surely be admitted that the revived belief in the
Church represents an advance, both spiritual and in
tellectual, for which we cannot be too thankful, either
to the theological teachers with whom it originated,
or to those social movements which are bringing it
home to us to-day in another form. But along with
this change has there not sometimes gone a tendency
to substitute a mechanical exaltation of the letter of
the Church's Creeds for a mechanical insistence upon
the letter of the Old and New Testaments ? That
Christ is the only-begotten, the unique Son of God,
is undoubtedly a great and precious truth, and it

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 125
is natural and right that we should in worship and
in education express this faith .of ours in the lan
guage which the authority of the ancient Church
has handed down to us. But let us remark that
taken by itself this belief would have no moral value
or significance whatever. It declares merely the fact
that God has been revealed in the historical Christ
and the society which he founded. That is a truth
of infinite moment : to keep it ever present to our
minds is, I suppose, the great use of the constant
recitation of the Creeds in worship. But at the
same time it is a truth which would be of very little
spiritual importance to anyone who knew nothing
as to what God has beeri revealed to be. Neither
the Apostles' Creed nor the Nicene Creed contains
the whole of the Christian Revelation. But for one
fact, we might go so far as to say that the Creeds,
taken by themselves, contain no revelatipn of God
at all. We cannot say that, because in those opening
words of both the ancient Creeds of Christendom,
" I believe in God the Father," we do indeed find
expressed the very heart of the Christian Revelation.
But the mere use of that one word Father, which (in
however different a sense) might be paralleled out
of pagan Theology, could convey no real informa
tion or instruction to one who had not learned from
the records of Christ's words and works what sort of
Being they have shown God to be. Taken by them
selves, the Creeds do not teach the supreme truth
that God is Love, though interpreted by the Gospel
records they do teach it Even the Resurrection
would mean very little to us apart from the character

126 REVELATION BY CHARACTER
of Him who rose, or rather perhaps we ought to say,
that belief in the Resurrection of Christ would not
be a spiritual belief at all apart from teaching which
the Creeds do not theraselves contain, as to the nature
of that future life to which the raanifestation of the'
risen Lord bears witness. Hence it seems to me that
to make the degree of a man's attachment to these
ancient formulae, however venerable, the one only test
of his adhesion to the Christian Faith — to raake their
use in schools the sole test as to whether an education
is Christian or otherwise — shows at the best a defec
tive sense of proportion ; and at the worst (I fear) a
total failure to comprehend the very nature of that
revelation of a divine life in raan to which it is the
object of the Creeds to testify.
It may be allowed that there is some pedantry and
some sectarianism in the attempt to exclude the
Creed from the Board Schools on the ground that it
is a "denominational formula," but that cannot
justify the use of wild language about Christianity
having been banished from the schools. So long
as the teacher teaches Christ's life of love, so long
as he teaches that that life reveals to us the life
of the Eternal Father, he does teach Christianity,
he does teach the essence of the Catholic Faith,
And let us remember also that where the teacher,
whether in Board School or Church School, fails
to bring home to the children's minds what sort
of character was Christ's, and how they can become
like Him, there will be no teaching of Christianity at
all, though there be never so much recitation of
Creeds, never so accurate an acquaintance with

REVELATION BY CHARACTER 127
historical facts or doctrinal technicalities. We can
not teach anything whatever about God without a
doctrine, and doctrines may for many purposes
conveniently be condensed into formulae. It is,
therefore, impossible to sympathise with much of
the current talk about an undogmatic Christianity.
But to say that the forraulae cannot fully exhibit the
most fundamental thing in Christianity — that is to
say, the character pf God as revealed in Christ, to
say that formulae often repel where the doctrine which
they stand for would attract — is no raore to cast a
reflection upon their usefulness in their proper place
than we reflect upon the value of ethical precepts by
saying that they can never be raore than very in
adequate erabodiments of the Moral Ideal, or that
the highest ethical teaching can never be given by
formal instruction in Morality. God and Duty alike
can be adequately revealed in one way only — by a
character, a life, a Personality.

VIII.
THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE OF
THE ATONEMENT
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's, 1892.
"Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to
minister, and to give his life a ransom for many." — Matthew
XX. 28.
yV MONG all the passages of the New Testament
d~\. in which our Lord is said to have died for men,
this is the only one in which the preposition avTi is
employed.* The usual prepositipn is i-jrep ; and,
where that is the case, I need hardly say that the
attempt tP read intp the text the raeaning " instead
of," "as a substitute for," or the like, is wholly
gratuitous. To suffer death, vicariously as a sub
stitute for others, would no doubt be to suffer {nrep,\
on behalf of, for the sake of others ; but that is
clearly not implied by the Greek. Christ may be
no less truly said to have suffered pn Pur behalf in
* With the parallel, Mark x. 45. It is possible that Luke xxii. 27
may be nearer to the original form of our Lord's saying. But even if
a touch of theological reflection has been imparted to this record of
our Lord's words, the tradition is clearly a very ancient one.
t Cf. the late Prof. Evans' note on iirip in the Speakers' Commen
tary, N.T., vol. iii. p. 371. 128

THE ATONEMENT 129
whatever way or ways his sufferings have tended to
the benefit pf his brethren still pn earth.
When we come to the solitary passage frora which
my text is taken, the patristic idea of a satisfaction
or propitiation and the more characteristically Pro
testant idea of a vicaripus punishment, have at first
sight more to say for themselves, 'AvtJ undoubtedly
does mean "instead of," "in place of," But a
moment's candid consideration of the context will
perhaps satisfy us that no theory of substitution can
really get rauch support frpm the metaphpr pf our
text. In the first place be it observed that even in
this passage — the very locus classicus for such theories
— the death of Christ is primarily set befpre us as an
example : his death is Ippked uppn as the culminating
act pf a self-sacrificing life. We are enjpined tp
serve pur fellpw-men in the same way in which
Christ served us. The giving of His life is men
tipned as the mpst signal iiistance of His ministry
tp his fellow-men : " Whpspever would be first among
you shall be your minister. Even as the Son of
Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister,
and to give his life a ransom for many." It is clekrly
raost agreeable to the cpntext to supppse that His
death is set forth as being serviceable to pthers in
the same sort of way as His life of teaching and
example and sympathy.
But it raay be asked, "Tp whpm is the ranspm
paid?" That, hpwever, is a questipn to which no
answer need be, and (as I venture to think) no
answer ought to be, given. The idea of a ransom
paid to the devil and the idea of a ransom paid to
K

130 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
God are alike entirely foreign to the context. The
idea is not that of a debt undertaken, still less of a
punishraent subraitted to instead of us, but of a
rans.om paid to win us back from slavery or captivity,
Christ's death was the price, the cost of that deliver
ance ; the ransom paid is the equivalent, not of our
sins, but of us. We are not debtors, but captives,
whom. Christ has emancipated at the cost of His
own life. Is the question asked, Eraancipated from
what? Here, again, there is nothing in the imme
diate context to supply an answer. But, if a cate
gorical answer must be given, the whole tenour of
Christ's teaching requires us to say, " Emancipated
from sin " — not primarily from the punishment of
sin, nor yet from the spirit of evil, but from sin
itself Even this interpretation is perhaps pressing
the metaphor further than need be. We ought to
interpret the passage rather in the light of that
dominant idea of all the Master's teaching, the idea
of a Kingdora of Heaven. The prominent thought
is not what Christ delivered raen from, but what He
bought them for. He bought thera for His kingdom.
He made them subjects of His spiritual empire, at the
cost of His own death. That is the ultimate purpose
of all Christ's work, of which even the deliverance
from the slavery of sin is but a negative and a
subordinate aspect.
The history of the interpretation of this text is
indeed a melancholy exaraple of the theological
tendency to raake systems out of metaphors. The
earliest Christian v/riters cannot be said to have a

OF THE ATONEMENT 131
thePry of the Atonement at all * : their language
admits for the raost part of whatever interpretation
we can legitimately assign to the New Testament
expressions upon which it is based. Irenaeus is the
first to suggest with any definiteness the idea of a
ransom paid by Christ to Satan. Entirely free from
the horrible idea of an angry and revengeful Father
propitiated by a loving and merciful Son, Irenaeus
does hold that a ransom was owing to the Prince of
Evil. By sin man had become the thrall of Satan,
Satan had acquired rights over him, God wanted to
recover His lost dominion over fallen man, to win
him back to His love and His service. But "it
became God" (says Irenaeus) "to receive what He
willed by persuasion and not by force, so that
neither might justice be violated nor God's ancient
creation perish,"t " Christ compensated our dis
obedience in the raatter of the tree by His obedience
on the tree." The death of Christ was brought
about by Satan's raachinations ; but, sirice He was
innocent, Satan had no right to His life ; so that
now it becarae compatible with justice that man,.
over whom he had just dominion, should be set
free from his sovereignty. Why Satan brought
about Christ's death, why he consented to accept
Christ's death as an equivalent for his dominion
over mankind (and indeed many other difficulties
• Harnack has emphasised the remarkable fact that the characteristic
ideas of the Epistle to the Romans — which moderns have often taken
as the whole of St. Paul — made no impression at all on the mind of
the early Church. The post-apostolic age did not understand that side
of the Apostle's teaching, so it simply let it alone.
t Adv. Hares., v. i, 15, 21.

132 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
which may naturally arise) Irenaeus leaves unex
plained. The system suggested by Irenaeus is more
fully elaborated by Origen. In Origen,* and still
more clearly in later Fathers, it appears that Satan
was deliberately deceived by God. He was some
how or other induced to believe that in bringing
about the death of Christ he would get possession
of His soul. But there he had over-reached himself;
he found that there was one soul which could not
be held in Hades. The very device by which he
had hpped tP cpmplete his triumph becarae the
raeans pf his Pwn ruin, and the whple bpdy of his
ancient subjects escaped his grasp.
Such,' in brief outline, was the theory of the
Atoneraent which on the whole held possession of
Christian Theology throughout the patristic period.
In saying this, however, I ought to add that the
Atonement, at least the theoretical justification of
the Atonement, is not a prominent feature of patristic
teaching. To the Fathers, " as to the Church of all
ages," says Mr, Oxenham, "it was not the Atone
ment but the Incarnation which was the centre of
Christian faith as of Christian life."t And in their
teaching about the Incarnation, many of them —
especially of the Greek Fathers — do suggest much
nobler and more rational answers to the question
how Christ's life and sufferings really did raake
possible a new spiritual birth for huraanity at large
* In Matt. tom. xiii. 8, 9 ; xvi. 8 ; /« Rom. iii. 7 ; iv. 11 ; Contra
Celsum viii. 44 ; cf. Bigg, The Christian Platonlsts of Alexandria,
Oxford, 1893, P) 210 i-?.
t The Catholic Doctrine of the Atonement, ed. 3, 1881, p. 166, a
work to which I must acknowledge great obligations.

OF THE ATONEMENT 133
as well as for individual spuls — answers by the side
of which the theory of a ransom owed to Satan
may well be deemed as superfluous, as it must to
every modern mind seem arbitrary, childish, and
immoral. But so it is. In that edifice of gold,
silver, costly stones, wood, hay, stubble, which the
Theologians of the first no less than of later ages
have built uppn the one foundation, we must be con
tent to cherish and to reverence the more precious
and permanent elements, while we abandon the more
perishable to their inevitable decay.
I will not attempt to trace this marvellous theory
through the varipus phases and rapdificatipns which
it underwent during the rapre than eight centuries of
its almpst undisputed reign. By minds like Origen's
we may indeed dpubt whether it was ever accepted
with the deadly literalness With which it was cer
tainly understppd by sprae pf his fpUpwers,* I
wish tp call attention rather to the work of the
great raen to whom Christendom owes its emanci
pation from this grotesque absurdity. Among all the
enormous services of Scholasticism to human pro
gress none is greater than this ; none supplies better
evidence that in very many respects the scholastic age
was intellectually in advance of the patristic. The
* I do not feel at all sure that Origen's own language is not meant
to be more or less metaphorical. He never quite explains why the .
'traditio' of Christ to Satan serves as a ransom for those who had
become his slaves. Sometimes Origen seems to be very near Abelard.
" Hoc ergo modo etiam Christus occidit inimicitiam in carne sua, cum
morte suscepta exemplum dedit hominibus usque ad mortem resistere
peccatum : et ita demum resoluta inimicitia in carne sua, reconciliavit
per sanguinem suum homines Deo, eos duntaxat qui inviolatum recon
ciliationis foedus ultra non peccando cnstodiunt. (In Rom. iv. 12.)

134 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
demolition of this time-honoured theory was effected
principally by two men — one the most lovable of
medieval saints, the other the greatest of medieval
thinkers; one the herald and precursor, the other
the actual father or creator of the Scholastic
Theology.* The attack on the received Theology
was begun by St. Anselm ; the decisive victory was
won by Abelard. Seldom, indeed, has a theological
system crumbled to pieces so rapidly, so completely,
and so irrevocably. Abelard's timid disciple, Peter
the Lombard, t is the last important writer to main
tain this theory of a ransom paid to Satan. And
among all that crop of strange and terrible .theories
of the Atonement which sprang up at and after the
Reformation, the old patristic view has (I believe)
never been revived.
Neither of these great Schoolmen were mere
destructives. They demolish the ransom theory
only to clear the ground for a worthier and more
reasonable view of God's dealings with mankind.
Anselm's theory of the Atonement is familiar to
all theological students. And at the present day
it will probably be felt that, though free from the
coarse grptesqueness pf the plder view, it is open
to some of the same objections as its predecessor
on the score both of Logic and of Morality. In the
Cur Deus Homo the death of Christ still remains
a debt owed, not indeed to the Evil One, but to
* Doubt had been suggested by John of Damascus. De Fid. Orth.
iii. 27 ; but cf. iii. 19.
t Sent. iii. 19. But there are traces of Abelard in his explanation ;
e.g. , " Mors ergo Christi nos justificat, dum per eam charitas excitatur
in cordibus nostris. "

OF THE ATONEMENT 135
an abstract Justice, or rather perhaps to God
Hiraself Man had sinned. By sin, by failing to
be what God intended him to be, man had robbed
God of something which was His due. Man had
thereby incurred to God a debt so great that nothing
in the whole universe that was not God could be an
adequate compensation to Him. It would not be
seem the honour or the justice of God that He should
forgive man's sin without demanding this satisfac
tion. Nothing which was not God would satisfy His
claims ; and yet the debt must be paid by man.
Even the Word, who was God, could satisfy it only
by becoming man; only so could He die, and by
so doing pay God something which was more
precious than that of which God had been robbed
by the sin of man, and yet something which was
not owing to Him ex debito justitice,
I will not dwell upon^ the obvious difficulties of
this scheme, which exercised raore influence over
Wycliffe and the Reforraers than over Anselm's
iraraediate successors. I leave, it without comment,
and pass on to the very different thepry which meets
us in Abelard. " Tp us it appears," * he says, " that
pur justificatipn and recpnciliatipn to God in the
blood of Christ lies in this, that through the
singular favour exhibited to us in the taking of
our nature by His Son, and His perseverance even
unto death in instructing us alike by word and by
example, God bound us to Himself more fully than
before by Ipve ; so that, kindled by so great a benefi
cence of divine favour, true charity fears no longer
* Opera, ed. Cousin, 1859, ii. p. 207.

136 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
to endure anything for His sake. . , , Accordingly
our redemption lies in that supreme love working
in us* through the passion of Christ, which
not only liberates us from the slavery of sin, but
acquires for us the true liberty of the sons of
God; so that henceforth we fulfil all duties rather
from love than from fear of Him who showed to
us so great favour than which none greater can be
discovered ; as He Himself testifieth, ' Greater love
hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life
for his friend.' Concerning this love, indeed, the
Lord says in another place, ' I came to send fire on
the earth, and what will I but that it be kindled ? '
For the propagation of this true liberty, therefore,
it is that He declares Himself to have come."
Three points may be noticed in this Abelardian
view pf the Atpnement : —
(i) There is np nptipn pf vicaripus punishment,
and equally little of any vicarious expiation pr
satisfactipn, or objectively valid sacrifice, t an idea
which is indeed free frpm spme pf the cparse
immprality pf the idea pf vicaripus punishment,
but is in principle spmewhat difficult tP distinguish
frpra it.
(2) The atpning efficacy pf Christ's wprk is npt
limited tp His death, Christ's redeeming wprk is
* Or possibly " excited in us " : " Redemptio itaque nostra est ilia
summa in nobis per passionem Christi dilectio, "
t That Christ's life and death were in the truest and highest sense
a sacrifice is a doctrine of the highest value, and is quite consistent
with the view taken in these pages. But to develope this aspect of our
Lord's work falls beyond the scope of this sermon. I have tried to
suggest the Uue sense in Sermon x.

OF THE ATONEMENT 137
not on the one hand confined (in Socinian fashion)
to teaching or even example, though it includes
both; His love to raan reveals in a unique way
the love of the Heavenly Father, because He is
in a unique sense the Son of Gpd. But neither,
on the Pther hand, is His atpning wprk limited to
the crucifixion. The whole life of Christ, the whole
revelation of God which is constituted by that life,
excites the love of man, moves his graititude, shows
him what God would have him be, enables him to
be in his imperfect way what Christ alone was
perfectly, and so raakes at-one-ment, restores be
tween God and man the union which sin alone has
destroyed. And (3) it follows from this view of the Atone
ment that the justifying effect of Christ's work is
a real effect, not a mere legal fiction. Christ's work
really does make raen better, instead of merely
supplying the ground why they should be considered
good or be excused the punishment of sin, without
being really raade any better than they were before.
Justification and sanctification becorae (to quote
the learned Roraanist Theologian whom I cited
before) " different naraes for the sarae thing, accord
ing as it is viewed in its origin or its nature, except
that, in ordinary language, justificatipn is used fpr
the initial act on the part of God in a process of
which sanctification, in , its fullest sense, is the
gradually accpraplished result; they stand to each
other in the spiritual life as birth in the natural life
to the gradual advance to maturity,"*
• Oxenham, op, cit. pp. 227-8.

138 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
Such was the doctrine that moved the unmeasured
wrath of Abelard's great eneray, St. Bernard. And,
be it observed, St. Bernard is as vehement against
the negative as against the ppsitive side of Abelard's
doctrine. To the Abbot of Clairvaux the doctrine
of the Atonement stands or falls with that theory
of the ransom paid to the devil which Catholic
Christendom was (little as Bernard imagined it)
just on the point of throwing off. If so, the
saintly Archbishop of Canterbury was as great a
heretic as Abelard, though neither he nor St.
Bernard seems to have been aware of the fact.
But whatever raay be thought on this point, it is
indeed strange that such a man as St. Bernard
should solemnly include in a list of Abelard's
heresies, which he prepared for the information of
the Pope, the statement, " I think, therefore, that the
purpose and cause of the Incarnation was that He
might illuminate the world by His wisdom, and
excite it to the love of Himself" Such was one
of the doctrines (so far as we can gather) which
was solemnly condemned by a Pope and a Council.
Inadequate some even of our modern Theologians
might pronounce it. But what a host of authorities
— patristic, scholastic, Anglican, Protestant — might
be produced in its favour ! From what Theologian,
since Theplpgy began, cpuld ypu npt extract spme
close parallel to this beautiful expression of the
whole Gospel message, unless it be some rigid
Lutheran? And even the most rigid Lutheran
cannot always remain faithful to a scheme of justi
fication in which love plays no part, in which the

OF THE ATONEMENT 139
love of God outpoured on Calvary is not allowed
to awaken any response in the human heart, lest
perchance even the admission of man's capacity
for gratitude, often the very last spark of the divine
nature to forsake the breast of the vilest criminal
— lest even this admission might be to concede too
much tp human raerit, and tp detract from that
comfortable doctrine of the total depravity of that
human nature which God created in His own like
ness and after His own image. Nor would the
name of St. Bernard himself be absent from the
catena of Abelard's adherents. Raising the question
whether God could have found any other means of
redeeming fallen man besides the raethod of the
Incarnation, he replies (against Anselm) that He
could have done so, but " He preferred to do it at
His own cpst, that He might find no further occasion
for that worst and most odious sin of ingratitude in
man." *
All through the Christian ages it has been surely
the love of God revealed in Christ which really has
won the heart of man, and raade the Christian
doctrine of the Atonement a real instrument of
moral improvement, however inadequate, monstrous,
even revolting sometimes has been the intellectual
embodiment which it has received either from formal
Theology or from popular sentiment. Those whose
theories have most tended to obscure the dpctrine
pf divine love have yet felt its power. But let it not
be supposed that on this account theological theories
are matters of no importance. Nobody, perhaps,
* Serm. xi. in Cant.

I40 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
ever felt the divine love more powerfully, or worked
more energetically in the strength of it, than Luther ;
and yet if the love of Protestant Europe seems to
have waxed in these latter days sp very cpld, that
there is spme excuse fpr the cpntempt which it has
unfprtunately becprae fashipnable arapng purselves
tp speak pf cpntinental Prptestantisra, it is largely
owing to the paralysing influence of that formal
divorce which Luther proclaimed between religion
and raorality in his theories of a faith which did
not necessarily work by love.
"The purpose and cause of the Incarnatipn was
this, that Christ shpuld illuraine the world by His
wisdom and kindle it tp the love of Himself"* At
the present day this heresy of Abelard's would be
welcomed as the very heart and essence of Christ's
good news by Christians of almost every shade of
ecclesiastical and theological opinion: In all modern
statements of the doctrine this aspect of the Atone
ment as a revelation of divine love occupies the
first place. We dp indeed find mpdern Theplpgians
setting up side by side pf this clear and intelligible
dpctrine theories, on the one hand, of an objectively
valid satisfaction or expiation ; on the other, of a
mystical retrospective participation by Christians in
the sufferings of Christ. But I venture to say that
when these theories come to be analysed and thought
out, it will be found that they resolve themselves
either into that notion of vicaripus punishment which
is now so heartily repudiated by nearly all Theo-
* Abelard, Opera, ii. p. 767.

OF THE ATONEMENT 141
logians,* or into what is practically the Abelardian
view. If satisfaction does not mean vicarious punish
ment, what can it mean, except that the suffering
Christ removed the consequences of sin by making
a new life possible without punishment ? Or, if we
are told that Christ offered an acceptable sacrifice to
the Father, to what, if the idea of appeasing an
offended Deity be rejected, can the sacrifice be cpn-
ceived of as owing its acceptability or validity, except
to its actual effects in awakening the love of Christ
and of all good, and the hatred of all evil ? In what
other way can another's suffering, or even the man's
own suffering, be conceived of as purging away sin ?
Or if, as with Dr. Dale, the prominent idea is that
the Christian identifies himself with Christ in such
wise that he can really be said to have shared in His
expiatory sufferings,t what can this mean (in actual
sober fact) but that love towards Him who suffered
awakens a sorrow for sin which does the work of
actual punishment in the cpntrite heart? After all,
I cannpt but feel that these mpdern thepries pf the
Atonement are not very deeply held. When the
Theologian is defending his own orthodoxy or
writing formal theological treatises, then he feels
bound, out pf deference tP traditipn, to a system of
Biblical exegesis, or to the authority of great names,
* By none more fully and frankly (among orthodox Theologians)
than by Canon Mason, The Faith of the Gospel, chap, vi., most of
whose language I could cordially adopt, though his attempts to read
new meanings into old language are not always quite satisfying.
t The Atonement, ed. xi., 1888, p. 425 sq. This view appears
in combination with theories which seem to me attenuations of the
traditional views which Dr. Dale repudiates.

142 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
to repeat raore or less of the old language, while he
repudiates what will seera to most minds its natural
meaning and its logical consequences. But when he
leaves the cave of theological formulae and comes
down intp the wprld tp speak tp the hearts and cpn-
sciences pf raen, then we find it is usually of the
character of God revealed in Christ that he speaks,
of the love of Christ for man in life and in death,
of the demand which that revelation makes for
answering love, of the example of Christ, of the
hope inspired by His Resurrection, of the assurance
which all this work of Christ brings with it of for
giveness, renewal, and spiritual life for all mankind.
It is of these things that the preacher elects by
preference to speak, rather than of satisfaction or
expiation or mystic identification.
The hold which what I may venture to call
Abelard's view of the Atonement (though, as I have
pointed out, it is Abelard's only because he extri
cated it frora the confused and childish notions with
which it had been associated) — the hpld which this
view has pbtained pver the Church of to-day can
hardly be traced back through any direct historical
succession to the influence of Abelard. Abelard did
indeed shatter for ever the theory of a ransom paid
to Satan : and the more refined theories of the
Atonement maintained by the later Schoolmen bear
witness to his influence. But still the Church did
not at once accept Abelard's view in its simplicity
and entirety. The Schoolmen whp fpllpwed Abelard
inherited his dialectical method, and something too
of his spirit. To men like St. Bernard the Summa

OF THE ATONEMENT 143
Theologies of St. Thomas, with its full statement of
objections and free discussion of difficulties, would
have seemed as shocking an exhibition of human
pride and intellectual self-sufficiency as the Theologia
of Abelard. But Abelard's successors do not share
his boldness, his penetrating keenness of intellec
tual vision, his uncompromising resolve that, while
authority shall have its due weight, neither truth nor
reason nor morality shall be sacrificed to it. Even
from the slight specimen I have given you of
Abelard's teaching you raay possibly have been
struck with the raodernness of his tone. Abelard, in
the twelfth century, seems to stretch out his hands -
to Maurice and Kingsley and Frederick Robertson
in the nineteenth. At least, I know not where to
look for the same spirit of reverent Christian
Rationalism in the intervening ages, unless it be in
the Carabridge Platonlsts.*
Abelard's doctrine of Rederaption is not the only
feature of his teaching that savours of the modern
spirit. The task which Abelard set before himself
is precisely the task to which the Church of our day
is imperatively called. In Abelard's day the task
was essayed — almost for the first time in the history
of the Church — of reducing Christian teaching to
the form of a systematic and coherent body of
philosophical doctrine. The human mind was just
awakening from a long slumber, and was insisting
that the traditional faith of the Church should give
* The Abelardian doctrine was, however, held by William Law,
This was the main cause of the rupture between Wesley, whom he had
profoundly influenced, and himself.

144 THE ABELARDIAN DOCTRINE
an account of itself. The result of the effort in
augurated by Abelard was the scholastic Theology.
The scholastic Theology in its developed form only
partially reproduced the spirit of its parent, but
still nothing betrays more unfailingly a lack of the
historical spirit and the historical temper than a
tone of undiscriminating contempt in speaking of the
scholastic Philosophy and the scholastic Theology.
It was a noble and stimulating idea surely that of a
science of the highest generalisations, a science that
should present the deposit of traditional and his
torical faith in its due relation to all other branches
of knowledge, accepting and fusing into itself the
highest and the truest that is known from whatever
source of God, the World, and Man ! Such an ideal
is surely wanted in days when Theology is in some
danger of sinking into the raere antiquarianism, or
the- mere literary criticism, which are, of course,
among the most iraportant of its bases and its
instruments. The new truth which now demands to be adjusted
with the pld truth is npt the same as the new truth
pf the twelfth pr the thirteenth century. Darwinism
and histprical criticism are tp us what the awakening
pf dialectical activity was tP Abelard, and the re-
discpvery pf a Ipst Aristptle tp Albert the Great and
Thpmas Aquinas. The restatement — let us say
frankly the recpnstructipn — pf Christian dpctrine is
the great intellectual task uppn which the Church pf
our day is just entering, and with which it must go
on boldly if Christianity is to retain its hold on the
intellect as well as the sentiment and the social

OF THE ATONEMENT 145
activities of our time. And, depend upoij it, the
Church that has lost its hold of the first will not
long retain its control of the last. In that great task
the reverent study of the. past is an essential element.
As an age awakens to new spiritual needs, it often
finds that its wants have been to a great extent
anticipated, though undoubtedly the old truth can
only be rescued from oblivion by becoming some
thing different frora what it was before. No two ages
can ever see exactly alike. In this reconstruction
of Christian Theology, I am convinced that we have
something to learn from the scholastic Theologians,
and most of all perhaps from the first, the greatest,
the most modern of them all. Partly for this reason
— as an illustration of what we may learn from him — -
I have ventured to speak of Abelard's doctrine of
the Atonement, but still raore because I believe it to
be as noble and as perspicuous a statement as can
even yet be found of the faith which is still the life
of Christendom.

IX.
JUSTIFICATION
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's, 1895.
" Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is
in Jesus Christ." — Rom, iii. 24.
IT has seldom happened that larger theological
issues have turned on the interpretation of a word
than those connected with the meaning of Sikoioq).
The Greek fathers are not indeed unanimous or con
sistent in translating it to " declare just." But they
seem to have recognised that as the obvious and
normal meaning of the word. In Latin Christendom
the word " justificare " naturally carried with it the
sense "to make just," a fact which does much to
account for the enormous development of the idea of
" grace " in Western Theology. At the Reformation
once again the differences between the Catholics and
the Reformers turned largely upon the same ques
tion. The Reformers, inspired by their zeal for the
Pauline Theology understood in the light of Re
naissance scholarship, held that justification raeant
the " being counted or treated as righteous " by God.
Justification was to them a sentence of acquittal, pro
nounced not in accordance with the facts of the case,
not in consequence of any actual righteousness of
man, but solely on account of the imputation to him
146

JUSTIFICATION 147
of the merits of Christ. Faith was indeed the con
dition of this sentence of acquittal by God, but it did
not in itself constitute any moral change on the part
of the sinner, and any actual righteousness on his part
must come from a distinct and subsequent act on
the part of God, technically known as sanctification.
The Catholics, on the pther hand, declined tp admit
that Gpd acquitted and treated as rightepus men
whp were not really righteous at all. For them justi
fication meant the actual making righteous. The
atoning work of the Son was not the ground of an
arbitrary judicial sentence on the part of the Father,
but the means whereby God actually produced a
raoral change in the heart of man, and so made it
possible for God to rerait the penalties incurred by
sin. Justification thus becoraes merely the beginning
of the process of which santification" is the com
pletion. As a mere raatter of exegesis, there can be little
doubt that the Reforraers were in the right ; SiKaiow
in St. Paul does actually mean to hold righteous,
not to make righteous. So much must necessarily be
conceded in the interests of sound scholarship and
honest exegesis. But no considerations of scholar
ship or of exegesis can corapel us to hold that St.
Paul thought, or to follow hira in thinking, that God
counts people righteous without at the sarae time
making them righteous. Or at least, if we insist that
the declaring of the sinner righteous precedes the
actually making righteous, we must say with Cardinal
Newman, "Justification is the voice of the Lord
designating' us ; — designating us what we are not at

148 JUSTIFICATION
the time that he designates us ; designating us what
we then begin to be'.' *
While, then, we must beware of attempting to read
into St. Paul's language ideas which were foreign to
him, we may gladly recognise that the Catholic
doctrine of Justification is in certain aspects more in
harmony with the demands of Reason and of Con
science than that of the Reformers.
There is, indeed, a sense in which we raust admit
that Reason and Conscience were on the side of the
Reformers. In so far as " grace " or the power to do
right was supposed to be mechanically conveyed to
unconscious recipients by raeans of the sacraments,
so long as it was treated as a quasi-physical fluid
which flowed through wholly physical channels into
human wills, then we can sympathise with the
Protestant indignation against what they supposed
to be the Catholic doctrine of Justification. How
far that interpretation is a fair one I will not now
enquire. The belief in sacramental magic is happily
repudiated by those who adhere most closely to
Catholic tradition among ourselves. But apart frora
this raaterialistic conception there is rauch in the
Catholic doctrine of Justification which will certainly
coraraend itself to those vdip wish to see Theology
brought into harmony with raorality and with
common sense. That God should punish the
innocent instead of the guilty, that he should acquit
the guilty instead of the innocent, that he should
arbitrarily punish some and acquit others on account
of the presence or absence of a certain quality called
* Lectures on Justification, Lect. iii. § 3.

JUSTIFICATION 149
faith, which bas in itself no cpnnexipn with any
moral change — ^this is a doctrine which is certainly
not St, Paul's, and which certainly cannot be ours.
The ideas of vicaripus punishment and imputed
rightepusness are surely essentially and irretrievably
immpral. Npt sp the dpctrines of vicarious suffer
ing and infused or transmitted righteousness We
should have to shut our eyes to all the facts of
life if we were to deny that one man is often^ —
nay, normally — raade righteous by the sufferings
of another, or the righteousness of another. Every
child in whom some measure of Christian character
has been implanted by the love of a Christian
mother, every social outcast in whora the desire
of higher things has been awakened by the self-
denying sympathy of a pastor or a friend, every
society which owes its moral health to the exertions
and the sacrifices of those who have gone before and
created its traditions — all these are witnesses to the
truth of the Christian doctrine of grace. Nor are
outward and visible symbols without their efficacy in
making men righteous, or (if we choose to say so) in
conferring grace. The flag that appeals to the eye,
the tune that strikes on the ear, have been known to
awaken the flagging enthusiasm of the soldier or the
citizen as effectually as the spoken word or the living
leader. The sacramental principle only becomes
unintelligible when it is limited to a mechanical
seven or a mechanical two. The name sacrament
raay or may not be confined to ordinances expressly
founded by Christ Himself; but the sacramental
principle must surely be extended far beyond the

ISO JUSTIFICATION
range of stereotyped ecclesiastical ordinances.* The
sacraments are assuredly not the only material
symbols or social institutions which do actually, as
a matter of moral experience, " confer grace " or the
power to become good.
In this, as in so many other matters, it is not so
rauch by their assertions as by their liraitations that
Theologians have sometimes sinned against the light.
And so with regard to that particular kind of grace
which has been technically styled justifying grace.
The doctrine of justification by faith in Christ only
becomes false when it is isolated, instead of being
regarded as the most stupendous instance of a great
principle attested by all human history and all human
experience — the principle that of all the forces
that make men righteous personal influence is the
strongest. Men are justified by Christ when Christ's
influence raakes thera better men.
In St. Paul and in technical Theologies the word
justification is, no doubt, confined to the beginning
of the Christian life. To St. Paul, writing at a time
when definite acceptance of Christ necessarily took
place at one clearly-marked and tremendous crisis
of a man's life, it was natural to draw a sharp dis
tinction between the influence of Christ in the first
moment of acceptance and the subsequent progressive
influence which he calls sanctification. To us, who
have for the most part begun to experience some at
least of the benefits that have flowed from the life and
death of Christ in earliest childhood (whatever crisis
* The Roman Church recognises " Sacramentalia " beyond the
Seven Sacraments strictly so called.

JUSTIFICATION 151
or crises of more deliberate acceptance of Him may
have come later), such a distinction becoraes less
natural or less absolute.
I fear tliat to some these technical phrases of
Theology may have been rendered so repellent
by the harshness of some of the old Theologies
which were really believed, and the half-believed
survivals of them, that even the effort to find out
their meaning may be a weariness to flesh and spirit.
But sometimes it may be that these technicalities —
these ghosts of controversies all but extinct — whether
they raeet with languid acceptance or with indignant
rejection, may really stand between the soul and
a rational acceptance of etemal Christian truth. Let
us then try to emphasise the fact that the essence
of the Pauline doctrine of justification lies in its
assertion of the supreme moral influence of the self-
sacrificing life and death pf Jesus Christ, and of that
knowledge of the Father to which His recorded acts
and words bear witness. Other lives and other
characters have had some of this justifying effect on
man, but none such as His. Sometiraes you will find
that people very rauch in earnest about the practical
following of Christ are unwilling to assent to
theoretical stateraents about the unique character
of his work and personality. But put the question
to them in a practical form. Ask them, "What
actual human life has ever had any effect at all
comparable to the life of Christ in taking away the
sin of the world ? " Ask them what historic character
they can for a single moment imagine themselves, in
the conduct of their own personal life, putting in the

152 JUSTIFICATION
position which they are willing enough in practice to
accord to Christ as a full and adequate embodiment
for them of the highest moral ideal that they can
conceive, as constituting by its inherent attractiveness
the most adequate of all motives for moral aspiration,
as supplying them with the highest idea that they
can grasp of the character of God Hiraself Put
the question in this practical way, and raost of the
people I ara contemplating will have no hesitation
in answering, " We can assign this position to Christ,
and we can assign it to none other." Or if some
of them may feel a difficulty in denying that but for
the actual course of history, or but for our iraperfect
knowledge of that history, it would not be impossible
in the nature of things to suppose that there may
have lived persons since Christ's time whose characters
might, under other circurastances, conceivably have
appealed to the world as His has done, they would
at least be prepared to recognise that in actual
history the nearer any personal influence seeras. to
thera to approach to a capacity for being raade a
substitute for the influence of Christ, it has only been
in proportion as we are able to recognise in that
person's character the image which had originally
been stamped there by Christ Hiraself The very
attempt to place some other man on a level with
Christ will thus be found to be in reality a fresh piece
of homage to the Master. Practically, then, nearly
all that is best in the modern world does accept, with
more or less fulness and more or less intensity, the
essence of the Christian doctrine of Justification
through Christ. It would accept it more completely '

JUSTIFICATION 153
perhaps and raore intensely if it could only know
and recpgnise that it was accepting it, and not
imagine a greater gulf than there reaUy is between
this moral influence which is acknowledged and the
theological proposition which excites so much sus
picion. The best way of attaining to the clearer and
stronger faith that we desire is to recognise and
make the raost of, and above all to act upon, the
faith that we possess.
I do not mean to say that that peculiar influence of
Christ which Theologians had described as justifica
tion can in its fullest extent be separated from the
conviction of the divine mission and the divine
nature of this Christ whose character appeals to us
as the highest thing in human history. Apart from
that conviction, the life and death of Christ could not
produce the assurance of the love of God that they
do bring with them when accorapanied by this
conviction. What I do venture to urge is that we
should approach theological problems frora this
practical, or ethical, or experiraental point of view.
If we begin with asking what Christ has been to
others, what He is or raay be to us, we shall perhaps
find that the best way of approaching the question
what Christ is in Himself Or, to put the matter in
a more technicalway, the acceptance of the Christian
view of the office of Christ will form the basis of any
true doctrine as to His Person. Recognise Him as in
history and in personal experience the Messiah and
Redeemer of men, and you will not find it difficult —
if you believe in a living God at all — to recpgnise in
Him the unique Spu and Revealer of God. To those

154 JUSTIFICATION
who believe in a divine will governing the course of
human history, it cannot be thought a mere accident
that one man and one only is the source of and
fulfils our highest moral ideal — our ideal of God
Himself This idea, that the Christian knowledge of God
is based not upon speculative reasoning but upon the
conviction wrought in the soul by personal experience
of the" moral effects of Christ's life, is the fundamental
idea of the Theology of Ritschl. So far we may
welcome the influence which Ritschl has exerted upon
that portion of German Theolpgy which is at once
liberal and profoundly Christian. But there are other
Ritschlian tendencies upon which we may perhaps
be allowed to look with less entire sympathy.
(l) Firstly, it may be quite true that to some who
have discovered by personal experience the full
height and length and breadth of what Christ can
be to the human soul, it becomes practically a matter
of immediate certainty that in that historic personality
God is revealed — though even in such minds there
must (one would think) be some suppressed links of
logical inference, however unanalysable. Or at least
we may say that some measure of personal apprecia
tion of the influence of Christ's work is a condition of
any spiritually valuable conviction of His unique
position. But there is (it would seem) a tendency in
the Ritschlian School to disparage the witness of
Natural Theolpgy pr Philpsophy to the existence of
God and the witness which the existence of conscience
bears even to the character of God. It is difficult to
see how any revelatipn cpuld ppssibly reveal Gpd tp

JUSTIFICATION 155
one who was not already at least predisposed to
believe that there is a God to be revealed ; or how,
apart from the rational conviction that the highest in
raan must needs be the best representative of God's
own nature, the profoundest insight into the moral
supremacy of Christ's character, and the intensity of
his religious consciousness, could make us accept that
character and that consciousness as a revelation of
God. However rauch we may value Ritschl's attempt
to rest the claims of Christianity upon purely spiritual
grounds, we must not let impatience of the theoretical
difficulties of rational Theology hurry us into sub
stituting a more intellectual Pietism for a rational
faith. (2) And secondly — what is really very much the
same criticism from another point of view — it is
surely a raistake to isolate the influence of Christ
from the general moral experience of the world.
Granted that the difference between the influence of
Christ upon the soul and the influence of any other
character in history rises to a practical incommensur
ability, granted that for those who have experienced
it in its highest intensity this influence of Christ has
in it something sui generis, unanalysable, incommuni
cable, yet it is surely a mistake not to recognise that
it has something in common with those personal
influences, those other vicarious sufferings of man for
man which it so greatly transcends. If one may
judge from the recently translated and very inter
esting work of Hermann, Communion with God, there
is a tendency in the Ritschlian School, if not in
Ritschl himself, to repeat the mistake of the

156 JUSTIFICATION
narrowest dogmatism by disparaging all moral teach
ing, and all moral influences before and other than
the life of Christ. We must not deny that God has
spoken to men at divers times and in divers manners
to the fathers, though we are right in asserting the
immense superiority of the light which God has
vouchsafed to us in His Son. And it is a still
more disastrous mistake to disparage what raay be
called the lower levels of Christian experience — the
lower, the more obvious, the more easily intelligible
of the effects of Christ and His work upon individuals
and upon societies. Tell a man earnestly enquiring
for spiritual light araid the practical difficulties and
the theoretical perplexities of modern life, "If only
you had the spiritual intuition of a St. Francis or a
Luther, then you would see how the knowledge of
Christ will lead you to a clear vision of God which
will make you indifferent alike to ecclesiastical
dogmas and to philosophical objections. But till
you have that, you are no Christian ; you will gain
nothing either from accepting the Church's teaching
about Christ or from your well-meant efforts to obey
what you can understand of Christ's raoral teaching
and to iraitate His exaraple." Language like that,
whether it proceed frora medieval mystic or frora old
puritan or from enlightened Ritschlian Theologian, is
but too apt to break the bruised reed and quench the
smoking flax of humble Christian endeavour. Nor
is teaching of that kind without its dangers even for
those who can with real sincerity claim as their own
some of this higher Christian experience to which the
appeal is made. Antinomianism is the nemesis that

JUSTIFICATION 157
awaits all religion which forgets that the acceptance
of Christ is an activity of the same rational self
which expresses itself also in the raost eleraentary
act of duty.
Let us then set no technical or arbitrary liraits to
justifying grace or tP the saving efficacy which flpws
frpm the crpss pf Christ. Even those who have
known little of conscious effort to follow Christ
raay not be wholly strangers to His saving work
through their union with the society which Christ
has redeemed. Let no one think that he is wholly
outside the Kingdom which the Christ has founded
because he cannot honestly feel that personal faith in
Christ has been the main source of whatever good
there is in him. No raan who has ever breathed a
Christian atmosphere, and tried to live up to the
highest moral ideal that a Christian society sets
before him, need think himself wholly alien to the
Christian commonwealth. The best that is in hira
he owes to Christ. If he has ever allowed him
self to be affected by the influences of a Christian
home, if he has been fired by the example of a
Christian character, if he has ever shrunk from what
Christ taught the world to regard as sin, he has
already experienced something of justifying grace.
Let him not indeed be content with submitting him
self to these indirect Christian influences. The
Church has surely been right in recognising as
Christian, as within its own pale, the infant who
for many years to corae will know nothing of Christ
but what it sees reflected in a raother's love, or the
immature Christian whose Christianity consists in

iS8 JUSTIFICATION
little but reverent submission to the most positive
precepts of Christian morality, and the positive
ordinances of the Christian society. Normally and
naturally, under the conditions of modern life,
the indirect Christian influence precedes the direct.*
The Church is not a close oligarchy of perfected or
mature Christian raen, but a great educational insti
tution in which men are gradually brought ever
more and more completely and effectually and
directly within the circle of Christ's influence. The
abuse of ecclesiastical Christianity begins when the
mere formal Church membership or the punctilious
external performance of Christian ordinances is taken
as a substitute for the moral effort which they are
meant to assist.
But there is an opposite danger which is probably
in these days far more widely spread. In many
minds which are far enough from definite accept
ance of any particular doctrine of Justification, the
popular Protestant ideas about the Atonement have
probably left behind them just this much — a- dis
position to believe that Christ's death has done some
great but vaguely-conceived thing for us which saves
us the trouble of doing anything for our own sal
vation. Now if there be any truth in the view that
Justification may practically be treated as equivalent
to the influence of Christ, it is clear that we cannot
expect to be redeemed by a life and a death of which
we never think. Indirect Christian influences should
* There is an admirable defence of Infant Baptism on these lines
in Canon Curtis' Bampton Lectures, Dissent in its Relation to the
Church of England, Lect. iv.

JUSTIFICATION 159
of course lead up to, and prepare the way for, the more
direct and personal influence of Christ. The capacity
for appropriating (so to speak) the spiritual influence
contained in the records of Christ's life varies (let us
admit it) in different persons. Still, some help and
instruction and inspiration it is possible for all of us
to obtain from thinking about Christ : and some power
there is in all of us of cultivating whatever spiritual
capacity of this kind we possess. But we are not
likely to think rauch about Christ unless we have
regular tiraes for thinking about him and for direct
ing our wills towards him. Perhaps the uses of
Christian worship would be more valued among us,
and especially the uses of frequent and regular
attendance at Holy Communion, if we thought of
these ordinances more frequently in this simple light
as so many definite opportunities for thinking about
Christ, and trying to bring His influence to bear
upon our lives.
And I will venture on one other very plain practical
suggestion. I believe that a little intellectual study
of the Gospel records — the intellectual effort to con
struct for ourselves (not without help frora modern
theological scholarship) some historical picture of
Christ's life and to get an intellectual grasp of the
central ideas of his teaching, I believe intellectual
work of this kind would have more distinctly spiritual
value than is often supposed. We cannot help being
more or less affected by the destructive influences
around us, the vague scepticism and unrest by which
we are surrounded. Intellectual as well as moral
effort is needed to counteract them. There are not

i6o JUSTIFICATION
many people of any seriousness of character who do
not feel that they could wish that they were more
influenced by Christ and His teaching than they are.
Do they ever ask theraselves what they have done,
what they are doing to secure more of this influence,
to give this influence the opportunity, so to speak, of
finding its way into their soul ? Doubtless the raost
iraportant of all conditions for securing deeper
spiritual insight is the effort to live up to the light
we have. If any raan will do His will, he shall know
of the doctrine. The more he does, the more he will
know. But still it is true also that faith cometh by
hearing, and hearing is a voluntary exercise of the
intellect. If it does no more, the mere occupation
of the intellect about the life and the ideas of Christ
might often draw fresh virtue out of words which
have become impotent for us through sheer unintelli
gent, unreflecting familiarity with their spund. The
Bible can never be to us just what it was to our
fathers. It may be to us something more, but for
that to be we must understand it better.
But in all this it may be thought I have been
evading the chief point pf St Paul's teaching about
Justification. Granted that all these moral influences
flow from the work of Christ, it raay be said, you
have left out all account of the most characteristic
influence of all. In all other respects no doubt we
raay trace an analogy between the influence of Christ
and the moral influences that flow from the influence
of other heroic or saintly, though imperfect characters.
But what light does all this throw upon the one dis
tinctive influence which is claimed by the New

JUSTIFICATION i6i
Testament and by all Christian Theology for the
work of Jesus Christ, the forgiveness of sins, and the
assurance pf that forgiveness which the acceptance
of Christ carries with it. This is a vast subject on
which much might be said, but I must be brief
Undoubtedly the conviction that God has spoken
to us thrpugh His Spn dpes cp'nvey tP the believer
an assurance pf the fprgiveness pf sins, "Justifica
tipn is siraply fprgiveness," it has been said by the
latest Cpmmentatprs pn the Epistle tp the Rpraans,*
St, Paul's teaching abput Justificatipn is really after
all the teaching pf our Lord Hiraself in the parable
of the Prodigal Son. And by that pregnant word
more light has been thrown upon St. Paul's inmost
raeaning than is to be got out of whole libraries
of dograatic Theology. But after all even forgive
ness is not so simple an idea. The idea of forgiveness
stands almost as much in need of explanation as
the idea of Justification. To the souls awakened
to the sense of sin, and doubting if it were possible
for such as they to obtain acceptance with God, the
idea of the crucified Son of God hanging upon the
cross for thera has no doubt brought an assurance
of forgiveness to which no explanation could add
and from which no analysis could take away. But
if we are to have Theology, we must have explana
tion. And may not the refusal to think spring from
intellectual sloth or intellectual cowardice as often
as from genuine humility? Is not the most in
adequate attempt at explanation more reverent than
the dogmatic assertion of the unintelligible? And
* Sanday and Headlam, p. 36.
M

i62 JUSTIFICATION
here perhaps the Commentators' reference to the
Master's own teaching in the parable of the Prodigal
Son may carry us some way towards a solution of
our difficulty. It encourages us at least to appeal
to human experience and ordinary human moral
ideas in our thoughts about God's dealings with
raan. When, then let us ask, does a good father or a
good ruler forgive and why? On what principles
does he decide when he ought to forgive, when to
punish ? Surely he looks to the true good of the
child or the subject with whom he has to deal. So
far as the influences of the precedent upon others
will allow him to do so, he will forgive just when and
so far as the true good of the son or the subject will
be better promoted by forgiveness than by punish
ment. If in remitting a penalty he may be said to
count the unjust just, he only counts just that he may
make just, exactly as he only punishes that he raay
make just. And it is a matter of common human
experience that there are times and circumstances
when forgiveness — the exhibition of love, especially
when the forgiveness and the proffered love involve
self-sacrifice — touches the heart and awakens the
higher nature more ppwerfuUy than any punishment
pr exhibition of anger could do. Fully then may
we grant that Justification, in its strictest Pauline
sense, means the proclamation of forgiveness to the
repentant sinner. But at the same time we must
assert emphatically that Catholic Theology is not
substantially wrong when it declares that Justification
means making the sinner righteous. For only in so
far as forgiveness will make the sinner better can we

JUSTIFICATION 163
reverently attribute forgiveness to God. Indeed the
proclamation of forgiveness can hardly be separated
from the idea of the love that inspires forgiveness.
The love that forgives can hardly be distinguished
from the love that it makes us better to know.
Forgiveness and punishment alike (though both for
giveness and punishment are no doubt inadequate
expressions for God's righteous dealings with human
souls) must surely be regarded as flowing from the
changeless love of God which was most signally
revealed in the life and death of Christ, and which —
just because it was revealed — cannot be considered
to have been for the first time brought into being
when the Son of God died upon the cross.

X.
THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE
Preached in the University Chapel, Aberdeen, January i6, 1898.
' ' For the bodies of those beasts, whose blood is brought into the
sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burnt without the camp.
"Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his
own blood, suffered without the gate." — Hebrews xiii. 11, 12.
THERE has been much controversy of late as to
the origin of sacrifice, and (when we are dealing
with primitive society) that is much the same question
as the origin of Religion. It has been too hastily as
sumed in some quarters that the priginal idea pf
sacrifice was prppitiatipn — a view which carries with
it the thepry that the prigin pf Religipn is to be
sought in selfish terror. According to this view,
sacrifice is at the best a present to avert the wrath
of a deity whose favour can be bought only by food
and drink ; at the worst a sop to a cruel monster
delighting in blood for the sake of blood. But the
more careful researches of men like the late Professor
Robertson Smith* have shown that the idea of the
* The Religion ofthe Semites (New Edition, 1894), p. 214 seq. The
same views are developed by Dr. F. B. Jevons in his admirable
History of Religion. 164

THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE 165
sacrifice as a present, and still more of the sacrifice as
expiation, are comparatively late after-growths upon
the original conception. The original notion of the
sacrifice was the common meal in which the merabers
of a clan or tribe entered into or ratified their union
with the friendly tribal deity, and also with one
another, by mixing with their own blood the blood
of the Totem-aniraal — of the aniraal from which the
tribe was supposed to be sprung, and which was in
some sense identical with or representative of the
tribal god. The rite of sacrifice is thus connected
on the one hand with the idea of the blood-covenant
by which, through the shedding and interchange of
blood, an artificial union is established between those
who are not of kindred stock by nature, and on the
other with the natural and universal symbolism of
the family meal. In a word, the primitive idea of
sacrifice was not so much propitiation or expiation as
comraunlon. It would of course be fanciful to credit the author
of the Epistle to the Hebrews with any anticipation
of these anthropological views about the origin of
sacrifice, but the light which modern investigatipns
have thrpwn upon the sacrificial idea will, I think,
really help us to enter into the writer's attitude to
wards sacrifice. There is no book of the New
Testaraent which is so full of sacrificial language as
the Epistle to the Hebrews. Its author has con
tributed raore perhaps than even St. Paul or St.
Peter to fix and stereotype the idea of sacrifice in
connexion with the death of Christ.
And yet it would, I think, be easy to show that

i66 THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE
raany of the theories that have grown out of his
teaching are the very opposite to what he intended.
To understand hira, we must think ourselves back
into the mental atmosphere of a world in which the
idea of religion was inseparable from the idea of
sacrifice. He was labouring to persuade Jewish
Christians that for them the sacrificial system of the
old world ought to b& regarded as a thing of the
past. To effect his purpose he had to put himself
at their point of view, to assume (with them) that
sacrifice was somehow essential to the wiping away
of sin. And therefore he tries by every subtlety of
interpretation known to Alexandrian Judaism to
show that the old sacrifices had been types of a true
sacrifice yet to come, the one all-sufficient sacrifice
which had been offered by Jesus the Messiah in
His death upon the cross. It is not necessary to
suppose that he analysed very precisely in what
sense sacrifice was necessary to take away sin. He
was content to acquiescence in the ordinary Jewish
point of view. His argument is largely an argumen
tum ad hominem. But, though he uses the language
of the sacrificial theory, you will find, I think, how
constantly he is trying to substitute higher and more
spiritual ideas for the crude notions of his readers
about the atoning efficacy of blood ; and very often
(to say the least of it) he does this simply by going
back tP the primitive idea pf cpmmunion and trying
to separate it from the later and lower idea of expia
tion. It was not possible, he tells his readers, for the
blood of bulls and of goats to take away sin. There
at once he destroys the whole idea of expiation in its

THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE 167
literal, materialistic form. The blood of Jesus would
have been equally powerless so long as it was looked
upon merely in the same light as the old sacrifice,
merely as the offering of a very precious thing to
an angry god, or as a piece of mere magic which
in some wholly non-moral and non-spiritual way was
to remove the stain of guilt. But, constantly as he
uses the language of ritual sacrifice so natural to him
self and to his readers, that language does not ex
press his deepest thought about the matter. Fpr him
it was npt the physical death, but the perfect pbedi
ence pf Christ which gave that sacrifice its atpning
value. " Sacrifice and offering thou wouldest not . . , , in
burnt offerings and sacrifice of sin thou hast no
pleasure " (so the writer quotes one of the most
anti-ritualistic utterances in the Old Testament),
" Then said I, Lo, I come, in the volume of the
book it is written of rae, that I should do Thy Will,
O my God," Obedience to the Will of God is the
only true sacrifice ! Half of the crudeness of the
old Atonement doctrines would be gone if that had
been always remembered. Although he does speak
in the symbolic language which his hearers would
appreciate of the new covenant between God and
the spiritual Israel as ratified by the blood of His
Son, he is always trying to lead their minds up from
the merely physical to the moral aspect of sacrifice.
The essence of the new covenant was not a physical
participation in blood but a union of wills. "This
is the covenant that I will raake with the house of
Israel after those days, saith the Lord; I will put

i68 THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE
my laws into their mind, and write them on their
hearts ; and I will be to thera a God, and they shall
be to me a people." *
We must remember too the illuminating remark of
the present Bishop of Durhara, t that to the Jewish
mind blood suggested not the idea of death but the
idea of life. In the blopd is the life. That, as we
have seen, is the idea which lay at the rppt pf
primitive sacrifice. Let us pnly think pf the death
of Christ — the crowning act in a whole life of
sacrifice — as giving, new life to the world, renewing
its spiritual and moral being by a life of love such
as had never been lived before and has not been
lived since (in so far as it has been lived), without
help from the virtue that has come out of that one
life. Let us think of the death of Christ so, and
we shall have no difficulty in giving a real, spiritual,
present-day meaning to the idea of Christ's Atone
ment. By communicating His life to us Jesus Christ
has verily and indeed taken away — is now verily and
indeed, by no juridical fiction, but as a matter of
actual human experience, taking away the sins of
the whole world.
Or if we turn to the God-ward aspect of Christ's
work, we may think of a sacrifice as that which
establishes and raakes possible communion between
God and man. We shall see in that life of love the
supreme self-revelation of God to Man — the love of
God revealing itself in a human life and so awaken-
* Jer. xxxi. 33 ; Heb. viii. 8.
t Westcott's Epistles of St. John (1883), p. 34, and Epistle to the
Hebrews (iSHg), p. 293.

THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE 169
ing answering love in other souls and breaking down
the sin which alone keeps God and man apart. By
His life and death the Christ communicates to us
too His own sense of Sonship, enabling us too to
lead that life of Sonship which He had realized so
perfectly. This surely gives a more real and a far
higher sense to the New Testament doctrine that
God was in Christ reconciling the world to Hiraself
than we shall ever get at by any attenuation or
refinement of the idea that Christ's sufferings and
death were a punishment which God had sent the
innocent Jesus to endure as the substitute or repre
sentative of guilty man.
And then observe how, iraraedlately after the
words of my text, the writer goes on to spiritualise
and elevate the idea of worship as he had spiritualised
the idea of Atoneraent. The spiritual sacrifice of
the heart and the will is what the new covenant
requires in the place of ritual oblation. The Chris
tian Church has, indeed, '' an altar whereof they have
no right to eat who serve the tabernacle." The work
of Christ, commemorated in the Christian Eucharist,
is what enables us to offer more or less imperfectly
the one true sacrifice — that sacrifice of the will which
He once offered perfectly. "By him therefore let
us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually,
that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his
name." And then (as he goes on to suggest) the
sacrifice of the will in worship is but a means to
the sacrifice of the life ; communion with God must
inspire and be realized in communion with our
fellow-men. Almsgiving too — from the earliest times

I70 THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE
an essential element of every Eucharistic oblation —
almsgiving too is sacrifice. "To do good and to
distribute forget not, for with such sacrifices God is
well pleased."
All through the history of Religion you will find
a struggle between these two ideas of sacrifice — com
munion on the one hand, expiation on the other.
We need not deny that there was a moral side to
the craving for expiation — even when it showed itself
in wild and savage and cruel rites — in so far as it
testified to that sense of sin which, as the writer of
our Epistle sees, such rites could never really take
away. But still, it is broadly true, I think, that
Religion has become higher or lower, its influence
has been moralising or lowering, just in proportion as
the idea of communion has predominated over that
of propitiation or expiation. The religions of the old
world, the most primitive cults, the crudest rituals
were a beneficent and moralising influence just so
far as they testified to a sense of communion between
members of the same tribe or family and between
the worshipper and the kindly, friendly tribal deity.
They became non-moral or imraoral in proportion as
the idea of communion was supplanted or overlaid
by the idea of propitiating a cruel or hostile deity
who took pleasure in torture and in death. Here
was the motive which inspired the old aborainations
of Moloch, or the hideous cult of Juju which has just
been ended by the annexation of Benin to the British
Empire. It is a comfort to be assured by Anthropo
logists that human sacrifice does not represent a
universal primitive stage of Religion out of which

THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE 171
humanity has but slowly and gradually emerged,
but is raerely a comparatively late and occasional
degeneration from earlier and more healthful ideas
and practices, I need not dwell on the manifold
ways in which men's conception of God has at
certain moments in the history of Christian thought
been blackened by propitiatory theories of the Atone
ment, The Theology of Substitution is happily
melting away before that representation of the
Atonement as a revelation of the love of God
which, though it has never been without a witness
in Christian Theology, is associated especially with
the teaching of Abelard and in modern times with
that of Frederick Denison Maurice,
So, too, the idea and the influence of the Christian
Eucharist has risen or fallen far as the idea of cora
munion has or has not predominated over that of
propitiation. There is no real antagonisra between
the idea of coramunion and the idea of sacrifice.
Sacrifice at its highest means comraunlon with God
and our fellow-men. We may welcome heartily and
unreservedly the modern tendency to eraphasise the
sacrificial character of the Church's Eucharist, if only
we do not forget that the true sacrifice is the sacrifice
of the will. The old liturgies are full of the idea of
sacrifice, but then they assert with equal emphasis
what their modern imitators soraetiraes forget, the
contrast between the bloody sacrifices of the old
covenant and the unbloody spiritual sacrifice, the
reasonable sacrifice, the Xoyt/c^ Xarpela of the new.
And this idea that sacrifice is coramunion is not
without deep significance for practical morality. The

172 THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE
idea of self-sacrifice does indeed represent the very
heart of the Christian ideal of life. That a raan
finds his true life, his true self, in giving up the
lower life for others — that is the very essence of
the Gospel which Christ taught to the world by
His life and by His death. But soraetiraes we find
exaggerations, distortions even, of this purely ethical
doctrine of self-sacrifice. Soraetiraes it is forgotten
that the value of the Sacrifice depends upon the
value of that for. which lower goods are surrendered.
" Sacrifice alone, bare and unrelieved," says Frederick
Robertson, " is ghastly, unnatural, and dead ; but self-
sacrifice, illurainated by love, is warmth and life."
The true self-sacrifice should be always a sacrifice
of something Ipwer fpr the Ipve pf spmething higher
pr fpr the Ipve of other men.
There is no noble life without service, and the
service of others always must involve some sacrifice
of self — of things otherwise good and innocent for
the sake of others. But we must not fall into the
way of talking (there are few in our day who are
terapted to such raistakes in practice) as if the ideal
life allowed no enjoyraent, in moderation and due
subordination, of lower pleasures, and still less as if
there could be no place in a Christian's life for Art or
Literature or Science. Only we must not fprget the
pne thing which can sanctify pur enjpyment — its
being shared with pthers. The pld animal sacrifice,
Pagan or Jewish, was not as a rule a giving up of the
whole victim to the god, but rather a sharing it — with
the deity and with his other worshippers. On us who
believe that it is not some little circle of tribe or

THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE 173
family that is linked to us by the tie of brother
hood, but the whole humanity whose sonship to God
was proclaimed and made possible by Christy — on us
this burden of communicating ought to weigh more
heavily and yet more joyfully than on those who
knew only the ties of blood or of class. Those who
find most of their own joy in the joy of others come
closest to the ideal of brotherhood. But still it
would give us clearer ideas of social duty, I think,
if we bore in mind that sacrifice is essentially sharing,
not self-denial or self-mortification as such. It is not
because pleasure and enjoyment are wrong or bad
in themselves that a Christian conscience may find
scruples about some of the amusements and in
dulgences which the world takes as a matter of
course in the rich and well-to-do, but because
pleasure and enjoyment are so good, and such vast
numbers of our fellow-men get so little of them, and
they raight get so rauch more if rich men would spend
less on big houses and smart carriages, on dinings
and yachtings, or in enabling their sons to spend a
great deal more money than is good for them in the
Array or at the Universities. It is not because culture
and intellectual life are unworthy of a Christian
man's attention that the Christian wiU condemn a
life of mere selfish dilettantism, and that even the
student raust sanctify his intellectual life (as he raust
sanctify all other enjoyments) by in some way or
other sharing it with others. It is not because a
highly cultivated class is not an invaluable element
of social well-being that we pronounce the gospel
of culture one-sided, but because others outside that

174 THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE
class possess capacities for a higher life which can
only be realized if those who possess culture will
share it with those who have not. One need not
be a believer in any mechanical equality or State
Socialism to ask oneself anxiously sometiraes whether
we of the corafortable classes do not in some ways
and directions get much more than our share of the
good things of life. How. much and in what direction
each one of us might and ought to surrender some of
these things for others, I must not now enquire.
On this matter as in others there are differences
of vocation. Let us reverence those who are called
to the higher and more exacting kinds of social
service — those whose work may be described as
missionary work, whether at home or abroad,
whether of the directly religious order or in the
numerous spheres of philanthropic and social work,
which call for heroic sacrifices, essentially unpleasant
services, great surrender of the ordinary comforts,
recreations, and interests of cultivated life. And for
all of us, in the most humdrum and conventional
spheres of labour, the resolution to serve will
certainly involve some sacrifice of pleasure and
inclination, some endurance of hardness — at some
crisis or other of our lives, probably, some more or
less agonizing conflict with selfish inclinations. Do
not think for one raoraent that I am trying to per
suade myself or others that the service of Christ
is a soft and easy thing. The Christian life would
be a poor thing if it involved no sacrifice, and in all
sacrifice there is pain. But after all, it is a mistake,
and a ruinous mistake, to speak as if social service

THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE 175
were essentially and necessarily unpleasant or un
interesting or inconsistent with the high development
and enjoyable exercise of our highest capacities — as
if self-sacrifice in one direction were not usually and
normally compensated by a higher development of
self in another. The work pf every prpfession may
be made into a branch of strenuous social service if
it is really the opportunity of social service that we
are looking out for, and not merely the pay and the
reputation and the social position. Work does not
always cease to be interesting when it ceases to be
showy. A highly-educated man might find, for
instance, in the work of local governraent and social
reform in his own immediate neighbourhood as much
exercise for the highest gifts of statesmanship or
administration as a Cabinet Minister or the governor
of an Indian province, if only his ambition be really
to serve his country and not to win a ribbon or to
pose as a personage in fashionable drawing-rooras.
Others might find in the teaching of the poor a
sphere for exactly the same faculties that are raore
rerauneratively exercised in the teaching of the well-
to-do. Medical work among the poor or the dis
interested pursuit of Science is not surely less rich
in intellectual interest than an aristocratic practice.
Mere amusements again would not lose all their
charm if pursued sometimes in the company of the
poor who want npthing raore than just to be taught
how to arause themselves rationally : and the society
of a working-men's club would sometiraes probably
be found less boring than the society which men
struggle most and squander most to enter.

176 THE IDEA OF SACRIFICE
But these are mere suggestions as to the way in
which we ought to seek to apply, each for himself,
the great law of sacrifice. Applications I must
leave: all that I want to do here is just to enforce
the principle — the principle that for the Christian the
enjoyment of all good things must be sanctified by
being in some way or other shared with others. For
most of us, in practice, I think, the living out of that
principle will raean not so rauch any eccentric
asceticism, extreme hardship, or heroic self-renuncia
tion, as a life of hard work, self-restraint, simplicity,
raoderation in living and in enjoyment, that we may
have time and money, interest and energy left to
help others enjoy top all that is best wprth enjpy
ment in life — npt sp much surrender pf privilege
pr ppsition as a stronger sense of social duty and
of the needs — material, intellectual, spiritual — of
those less favoured classes of our fellow-men whom
Christ taught us to call brothers.
True Sacrifice is Comraunlon — that is the principle
that we want to apply to our Theology, to our
worship, but most of all to our practical and social
life.

XI.
THE RESURRECTION AND
IMMORTALITY
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's,
May 1 6, 1897.
' ' But as touching the dead, that they are raised ; have ye not read
in the book of Moses, in the place concerning the Bush, how God
spake unto him, saying, I am the God of Abraham, the God of
Isaac, and the God of Jacob ? He is not the God of the dead, but
of the living : ye do greatly err." — St. Mark xii. 26. (R. V.)
AT times I imagine that some of us have been
-t~V. inclined, or would have been inclined, did
reverence allow, to suspect something irrelevant or
sophistical in these words of Christ. And yet, I
think, a very little consideration will show that they
really express, in a form adapted to Jewish ideas, the
one great argument which has made most sincere
believers in God believers in Immortality also. It
was inconceivable, our Lord teaches, that a being
who had once been deeraed worthy to hold com
munion with the Eternal should really be the mere
creature of a day, " coming up as a flower, cut down
as the grass, never continuing in one stay." If God
had ever really regarded with favour the traditional
forefathers of the Jewish race, it was impossible that
N 177

178 THE RESURRECTION AND
that favour should be limited to the brief span of this
earthly life. A being so honoured must surely be
reserved for some higher destiny than a mere going
down into silence. If God had indeed been their
God unto death, must He not be their God even
beyond death ? Such was the line of thought — if we
should not rather say the line of feeling — which had
actually engendered in the more earnest and religious
section of the Jewish race, between the age of the
exile and the Christian era, what has been well
described as " the greatest revolution which the
human mind had ever experienced" — the revolution
by which " man had come to consider or suspect
himself to be immortal." * Such was the argument
by which our Lord now meets the objections of
the worldly, rationalistic, conservative Sadducean
hierarchy. To Him no doubt the thought presented
itself rather as a spiritual intuition than as a formal
argument : but it is in principle the same argument
which has made almost every thinker who has been
in earnest about Theism a believer in Imraortality
also. The inadequacy of the present life to satisfy
the demands of the moral consciousness, the aspira
tion of the human spirit not merely or chiefly for
happiness but for knowledge and for holiness, the
enormous contrast between the capacities with which
human nature has been endowed and the meagre
realizatipn which can in general be given tp them
within the span pf this earthly life, the energy with
which Reason affirms that Justice ought to prevail in
the affairs of men when contrasted with the equally
* Ecce Homo, chap, iv.

IMMORTALITY 179
emphatic teaching of experience that Justice prevails
not yet — these are the commonplaces of Christian
Philosophy (amid however rauch raore questionable
arguraentation) from the anima naturaliter Christiana
of Plato down to the days of Kant and of Lotze.
Surely when we find this reasoning sanctioned — in
however different an outward dress — by Jesus Christ
Himself, we may be allowed to question the wisdom
of those who in His name have sought to disparage
all arguments for Immortality except that which is
based upon the historical evidence of His Resurrection.
Beyond all doubt the tidings that mortal eyes had
seen the Lord after that He had risen from the dead
did, when taken in connexion with the rest of the
Christian Gospel, produce an intensity of belief in
a life beyond the grave which probably could have
been developed by no other means. Beyond all
doubt that simple tradition is even now capable
of inspiring with spiritual hopes souls and lives that
would be deaf to all our reasonings from the facts
of the moral consciousness and the rationality of the
Universe. But, for those who have once learned to
look with critical eyes on the recorded narratives
of wonderful events, the historical evidence of the
Resurrection story will seldom bear all the weight
of this moraentous belief For thera assuredly what
they think of the historic Resurrection will depend
largely on what they have independently come to
believe about God and Christ, about the meaning
of human life and the destiny of the human soul.
The evidence that the Apostles believed themselves
to have seen the risen Lord is, indeed, evidence which

i8o THE RESURRECTION AND
no sober criticism can set aside : but each of us must
inevitably interpret and explain that belief of theirs
in ~ accordance with his own presuppositions. I do
not think that many of those who have accepted the
faith that in a real sense Jesus Christ was the Son
of God will permanently be content to look upon
the appearance of the risen Jesus as a mere illusion,
though they may demand more latitude than Theo
logians have sometimes allowed, in their theories — or
perchance in their refusal to bind themselves by any
theory — about the exact nature of the recorded ap
pearances of the risen Lord.
We should not then disparage the clearness and
the definiteness which is added to the Resurrection
hope by the belief in Christ's risen and eternal life
with God, symbolised and attested by the vision
of the Apostles. Nor need we reject the support
which may be given alike to the Resurrection of
Christ and to the Resurrection of all men by sifted
and well-attested evidence pf mpre pr less analpgpus
appearances of the dead or the dying to their, friends.
But it is not wise unnecessarily to hazard so vital
a part of the Christian Faith upon a particular
answer to difficult historical, critical, or psychological
problems. The evidence for the Resurrection vision
is of a kind which can hardly appeal to those who
are not already at least predisposed to the belief in
human Immortality. Contact with critical problems
inevitably awakens doubts and difficulties : and, how
ever conservative our own solution of those problems
may be, it is madness to tell people that unless they
can give a particular answer to these critical and

IMMORTALITY i8i
historical questions, they have no ground for believing
in the Immortality of the Soul. It is better to say
"we believe in Immortality because we believe in
God ; and because we believe in Immortality we find
it possible to believe that the Son of God may have
appeared to His disciples after that He was risen from
the dead."
Undoubtedly the arguraent of our text does iraply
that one great presupposition — belief in God. In the
form in which our Lord addressed it to His Sadducean
opponents it assumes of course further that Abraham
and Isaac and Jacob were special favourites of the
God of Israel. For those who share Christ's own
faith in God as the common Father, not merely
of the Jewish nation but of the whole human brother
hood, the argument will have to be universalised.
It is not merely Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, but
the whole race of raankind — the race whose raoral
capacities have been illustrated by the saints and
heroes of all time, and most of all by Him on whom
Christendora looks as soraething more than saint
or hero — it is that whole race of raankind that we
cannot believe to have been destined by God for
a life so poof and so meaningless as this life must
needs seem to be for the vast majority, if it be not
intended as the prelude and the education for some
thing better. " Christ the first-fruits, afterwards they
that are Christ's."
There are indeed just a few thinkers who, looking
at the whole course of human affairs, are able to
satisfy themselves by mere empiric evidence of the
rationality of the world's history without any faith

i82 THE RESURRECTION AND
in Imraortality. I confess I can only envy such men
their philosophic optimism. I cannot but suspect
that they sometimes forget that at most it is only
to a Reason that sees the whole that the whole
course of events can justify itself on the assumption
that for each individual soul death ends all. Clearly
there can be no good that is not enjoyed by some
conscious spirit. And, if this life taken by itself is
but a questionable good to so very many, it is
difficult to see how the sum or the series of human
lives, each of them individually unsatisfactory, can
make up collectively a panorama on which the eye
of reason can rest with any real satisfaction.
I do not mean for one raoraent to suggest that
pain and sorrow in themselves raake life evil on the
whole. Pain and suffering may become relatively
good on account of the moral discipline which they
involve. But, if we are to look upon life as an
education, must not that education be pushed further
than we see it pushed here for the vast majority?
The spiritual results of life to the vast majority seem,
taken by themselves, to be as inadequate as its results
in the way of pleasure or enjoyment. I cannot see
how human life can be good on the whole when it is
not good for the individual souls who live it. If we
admit that life is unsatisfying and unintelligible from
the point of view of most individuals, and yet seek
to represent the whole course of nature as a beautiful
picture of rational order and rational evolution, are
we not really justifying the world's history as a sort
of dramatic entertainment got up for the benefit
of the superior people who are able to discover the

IMMORTALITY 183
secret of it all, who know the plot and can appreciate
the " tragic irpny " pf the situations and the beauti
ful interconnexion — say, of Hellenic slavery and
Hellenic culture? If life is only good upon the
whole, it must be good only for those who see the
whple. And after all, how many of us can pretend
to derive rauch satisfaction from the survey of pain
and sorrow, sin and imperfection, unjust destiny and
unfulfilled aspiration which history discloses to hira
who looks upon it not as a many-hued kaleidoscopic
show of impersonal laws and movements, actions and"
reactions, theses and antitheses and conciliations,
but as the record of joy or sorrow, aspiration or
despair, spiritual success or spiritual failure for in
dividual souls ?
Or if (as really seems to be hinted in some
quarters)* all this tragi-comedy of human life is
to be justified by the pleasure or satisfaction which
it gives to a God who is personal enough to be
amused but not personal enough to love, then such
a God raust be a Being who cannot with impunity be
worshipped by raen who want to becpme humane
and gppd. Nor again does the history of the world
justify itself to the moral Reason merely because
some philosopher, or the deity whom he fashions
after his own image, finds in it a beautiful and
interesting illustration of his doctrine of categories.
But I raust not stray further afield into the paths
of speculation. I only just want to leave with you
this thought — that belief in God and belief in Im
mortality must in the long run stand or fall together;
* See above, p. 14.

i84 THE RESURRECTION AND
and that therefore, if we are not ashamed of faith in
God, we ought resolutely to resist the habit of think
ing or speaking in a hazy or apologetic manner about
the Christian hope of Imraortality, or seek a delusive
refuge from speculative difficulties by nebulous talk
about an Immortality which is not personal, as
though we could attach any meaning to the idea of
impersonal spirit. Faith languishes and dies unless,
in worship and in other ways, we sometimes give
it articulate expression.
The only people who (as it seems to rae) ought
to find a difficulty in believing in Iraraortality are
those (and I believe they are few) who find it possible
to think that Reason has got nothing to do with the
world's raaking or sustaining, that history is a mere
meaningless dance of independent and yet law-bound
atoms which has as one of its incidental, accidental,
purposeless effects or concomitants — consciousness,
knowledge, virtue, sin, beauty, aspiration, conscience.
That there are reasonable people who do not draw
this great corollary from their faith in God, who do
believe in a living God or at least in some inner
reasonableness of things, who do recognise that con
science is more than a contraction of the diaphragm
which somehow helps in the struggle for existence,
and the human spirit more than a concpurse of
material atoms, which have inexplicably become
conscious of themselves — that there are such people
who yet find it easy to justify the world which we
see around us on the supposition that there is no
future after death for the individual human spirit —
this is a fact which I can only explain to myself by

IMMORTALITY 185
the misrepresentations, the degradations, the cari
catures to which the doctrine of Immortalfty has
sometimes been exposed. But after all, it may be
that those who let the coarseness of popular religion
ism in some of its forms blind them to the nobler side
of the Christian hope are as unreasonable as those
who suffer theraselves to be so blinded by the dirt
and dust of election carapaigns as to see nothing
in politics but a struggle araong knaves for the Put-
witting of fools.
One of these raisrepresentations is of so obvious
and gross a kind that I am almost ashamed of having
to notice it in this place. And yet one does occasion
ally hear intelligent and otherwise not ill-informed
persons talking as if Christianity had made the hope
of heaven and the fear of hell into the sole motives
of human duty. It will hardly be pretended that
this is the teaching of Christ Himself or of the New
Testament. The love that is selfish is no love at all,
and the morality of the New Testament is summed
up in the word love. When the Master taught that
it were better for a man that a millstone were hanged
about his neck and that he were drowned in the
depth of the sea than that he should cause another
soul to sin, we cannot believe that He was thinking
wholly or chiefly of the physical pains of Hell.
When He said, " Blessed are the pure in heart," He
cannot have meant that it was as a mere arbitrary
reward or premium that to this virtue was annexed
the vision of God ; nor could raen whose hunger and
thirst after righteousness was really a hungering and
thirsting after a carnal paradise find their reward

i86 THE RESURRECTION AND
in just being filled with that same righteousness.
Nor is this one of those distortions of the Master's
teaching which can justly be laid to the door of
Theologians as a class. Had they been inclined so
far to forget their Christianity, there was too much
of Plato in the education of the Fathers and too
much of Aristotle in the minds of the greatest
Schoolmen to let them do so. Universal selfishness,
duty for the sake of reward, life here and hereafter
for the sake of pleasure — these are the doctrines
of Christian Theology only at one or two periods
of its deepest degradation. And, thank God, what
ever may be the sins of preachers at the present
moment, anyone who ascribes such teaching to
the Churches of to-day must have been singularly
limited or singularly unfprtunate in his church-gping
experiences. On the other hand, there is, I think, no reason for
the lofty scorn which one sometimes hears expressed
for those who put forward the consequences of sin
in another life as a very powerful motive for effort
and for self-discipline. We do not put aside the
consequences of actions in this life — their conse
quences even to ourselves — in estimating their moral
quality. We ought no doubt to look upon a single
act of drunkenness, for instance, even where it has
practically no physical ill-effects, as intrinsically un
worthy and degrading. But to those who do not
feel this, or do not feel it as intensely as they ought,
we do not hesitate to represent the probable growth
of intemperate habits with all their consequences —
even their ph5^sical consequences, and still more their

IMMORTALITY 187
debasing effects on mind and character — as additional
reasons for moderation and self-restraint. The wrong-
ness of drunkenness does after all depend partly upon
these tendencies. In exactly the same way we ought
to admit — nay, most emphatically to assert — that
teraperance and chastity, love of truth and love
of our fellow-men, are good in themselves — good for
the life that now is, entirely apart frora all thought
of the life that is to corae. Assuredly a raan is not
in a right moral condition who would be prepared
deliberately to abandon the struggle to be pure and
temperate, truthful and hard-working and charitable,
on accpunt pf any loss or weakening of his theological
belief Assuredly he that does not will to do Christ's
will for its own sake can never really understand His
doctrine. But all the same we need not hesitate to
admit that goodness and sin can rarely be the same
things to the man who believes that in a few years
it will make no difference to himself or to any
of those whom his conduct may affect, whether he
has worked and fought and struggled hard and un
remittingly or weakly and fitfully or (it may be)
not at all. Goodness and sin can with difficulty be
the same things to him as they are to the man who
sees in his own life and in the lives of those around
him a stage in the development of immortal souls.
In the hour of weakness and despondency, to the
poor and the suffering and the unfortunate and the
rauch tempted, it is not easy to underrate the value
pf the dpctrine pf Immprtality as a source of per
sonal support, encouragement, and consolation. But
it may well be that to raany men in the full vigour of

i88 THE RESURRECTION AND
youth and prosperity, to whom life presents itself still
as a fairly long series of opportunities both of enjoy
raent and of useful activity, to raen whose ideas of
happiness are healthy and whose ambitions and
aspirations are generous and unselfish — to them it
may well be that this is not the chief value of the
Easter faith. To them it is not so much for thera
selves as for others that the idea of Iraraortality is
the one condition of hopefulness — that hopefulness
without which few raen have the strength to lead
effective lives. A living moralist has said : " When
a man passionately refuses to believe that the ' Wages
of Virtue' can be dust, it is often less from any
private reckoning about his own wages, than from
a disinterested aversion to a universe so funda
mentally irrational that 'Good for the individual'
is not ultimately identified with Universal Good."
And so " we are not surprised to find Socrates
declaring with simple conviction that ' if the Rulers
of the Universe do not prefer the just man to the
unjust, it is better to die than live.' " *
Such are the noble words of one who is after all
corapelled by his professed philosophy of pleasure
to look upon the future life raainly frora the point
of view of reward or posthumous compensation. I
will supplement them with the words of one whose
faith in Immortality was of a more unhesitat
ingly Christian cast. "Evidently," writes Arnold
Toynbee, "the starting-point of religion and philo
sophy is the same. It is the faith that the end of
* Professor Henry Sidgwick, The Methods of Ethics, Ed. iii.
p. 504.

IMMORTALITY 189
life is rightepusness, and that the wprld is so ordered
that righteousness is possible through human will."
" If an astronomer show that the earth within a
limited time must be destroyed, and the race with
it, where is our hope of the happiness and perfecti
bility of the race ? We want an eternal end : and
this cannpt be found in the good of the human race."
And again : " Man lifts his head for one raoraent
above the waves, gives one wild glance around, and
perishes. But that glance, was it for nothing ? " And
from this point of view he can even say : " We do
believe it would be irrational to try to be good if the
course of the world were not ordered for holiness and
justice."* I will conclude with one more quotation which
sums up all that I have been trying to say: "The
more we think of reason as the highest thing in the
world" (writes the late Master of Balliol in 1881),
"and of man as a rational being, the more disposed
we shall be to think of huraan beings as iraraortal." t
And, we may add, all the reasons that we derive from
the consideration of human nature in general, reach
their maximum intensity when we think of human
nature as it is exhibited in Jesus Christ, the Son of
God. * The I-ndust-rial Revolution, p. 246.
t Life, by Campbell and Abbott, vol. ii. pp. 244, 256, 240.

XII.
THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE OF
PROPERTY
Assize Sermon, preached bef ore the University of Oxford, at
St. Mar^s, November 19, 1893.
"Neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed
was his own ; but they had all things common. " — Acts iv. 32.
THE first impression of anybody who read these
words apart from their context would be, I
suppose, that in the first days of Christianity there
was established in the Church of Jerusalem a literal
community of goods. A closer study of these early
chapters of the Acts in their entirety must, hpwever,
result in a very cpnsiderable mpdificatipn pf this
ppinion. It will be observed that it is only those
who possessed accumulated property who are repre
sented as bringing their wealth into the common
stock. Only those who possessed houses or lands
(we are told) sold them, and brought the prices
of the things which were sold, and laid them at the
Apostles' feet. And even in their case, the story
of Ananias goes to show that this surrender was not
essential to membership in the infant Church, though,
no doubt, more or less expected of well-to-do persons.
190

THE DOCTRINE OF PROPERTY 191
There is, however, no trace of the ordinary wages or
earnings of the less wealthy being brought into a
common fund. Nor, if we turn to the system of dis
tribution adopted, does it appear that the whole
community participated — still less that they partici
pated equally — in the common property, except in
so far as the 'AyoTrat or love-feasts may have been
held with sufficient frequency to constitute a partial
approach to the ideal of a common life. In that
daily distribution of money or food, at which Hellenist
widows were neglected, there is no reason to believe
that anyone participated except those who, like the
widows — a class whose position in ancient society
was a peculiarly hard one — were without the means
of earning their own livelihood. And there are
sufficient indications of the raode of life adopted by
those early Christians of Jerusalem to make it quite
clear that the system of charitable relief adopted
among them fell very far short either of a com
munistic equality or of a monastic renunciation of
individual property. Mary, the mother of John
Mark, it is clear, lived in a house of her own,
sufficiently ample to accommodate a large prayer-
meeting, and she could afford to keep a maidservant.
What appears to have actually occurred was simply
this : that the richer members of the community
made large sacrifices to supply the needs of the
poorer. " He that gathered much had nothing over,
and he that gathered little had no lack." In short,
the system of charitable relief adopted by the Church
of Jerusalem differed rather in degree than in kind
from the system of organized benevolence which

192 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
played so large a part in the activity of all Christian
Churches during the earliest and purest ages of their
existence. The impression which this spectacle of
active love made upon the world has long been one
of the commonplaces of Christian apologetics. But
it is only recently that we have begun to appreciate
the extent to which the collection and distribution
of common funds entered into the raison detre ofthe
Christian society, moulded its organization, and con
stituted the functions of its ministers. The beauty
of early Christian life has never, perhaps, been more
touchingly brought horae to the raodern raind than
in Count Tolstoi's powerful story, Work while it is
called to-day. But in one respect that great artist
has done scant justice to the lesson which the life
of the primitive Church has still to teach us. It was
not merely (as he appears to suggest) by the wide
diffusion of an enthusiastic spirit of brotherhood, not
merely by a sort of extension to a wider society
of the instinctive communisra of the horae, that the
Christian Church did so much to expel from its
midst alike the material and the raoral evils of ex
treme inequalities in wealth. Without this enthusiasm
of self-sacrifice mere machinery would, of course, have
availed nought : but still we must not forget that it
was by deliberate organization, and vigorous dis
cipline, and statesmanlike administration that the
Christian Church succeeded to so large an extent
in exorcising the twin-demons of squalid poverty
and selfish luxury. The first church-officials (after
the Apostles themselves) whom the Church acquired
were those Seven who have been quite uncritically

OF PROPERTY 193
described as the first Deacons, but who are quite
as likely to have been the first Presbyters ; and the
Seven were appointed exclusively for the discharge
of financial and eleeraosynary duties, while in the
pastoral Epistles among the qualifications demanded,
not only of the Deacons but of the Presbyter-bishops,
those of the ruler and administrator are at least as
conspicuous as those of the teacher and preacher.
So prominent was this social aspect of the early
Church's activity that an outside observer might have
been forgiven had he mistaken the whole organization
for a great, world-wide Mutual Assurance Society,
and its ministers for nothing raore than the officials
of a benefit club. The lamented Oxford scholar,* to
whom we are so much indebted for recalling to our
minds this side of the Church's early life, is some
times indeed accused (not, I think, quite justly)
of actually making this very mistake. But while
we recollect that from the first the supreme end
of the Church's existence was a spiritual one, we
must no less emphatically recognise that those who
cry out against the Church's interference in social
questions, who want to make of the Christian Presby
ter a mere preacher of sermons or a raere performer
of sacred rites, who protest against his busying hiraself
with questions of charity organization or social
justice, of sanitary improvement or the amusements
of the people, are really putting forward a theory
of the Church's functions which is belied by the
whole cpurse pf her histpry frpm the days pf the
• Dr. Hatch, in his Bampton Lectures, The Organization of the
Early Christian Churches (1882).
O

194 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
daily distribution at Jerusalera to the days of Mansion
House Committees and Bishop Auckland Conferences.
If anyone doubts whether the words of our text,
" they had all things common," is susceptible of the
interpretation which I have given it, I should like
to call his attention to the fact that, when Justin
Martyr wrote his first Apology, he uses alraost the
very same expression as still applicable to the mode
of life adopted by Christians in his own day. What
ever may be the case with the Jerusalera Church
of the first century, it is quite certain that nothing
like an actual renunciation of personal property ob
tained in the Church of Saraaria in the middle of the
second. There was no actual equality, no community
of goods, no monastic or economic communism.
But equally there was no selfish and ostentatious
luxury on the one hand ; no abject misery or un
relieved want on the other. "We," he says, "who
once loved the getting of money and possessions
more than aught else, npw bring even what we have
already into the coraraon stock (ety koivov ^epovreg),
and share it with every one in his need."*
We see, then, that in the days of Justin Martyr,
no less than in the apostolic age, it was still true,
in a sense, that Christians had all things coramon.
Could that be said in any sense whatever of Chris
tians now ? And if not, why not ? That is a serious
question for us to face, and it is a question, I think,
that, as Christians, we are imperatively called upon
to answer.
Let us glance for a raoraent at the philosophical
* Apol. i. 14.

OF PROPERTY 195
theories as to the basis of property. It was natural
enough that Locke,* absorbed with the burning
practical question how to secure person and property
against the absolutism of Stuart kings, should have
sought to invest property with a sacredness which
would place it beyond the control of even the raost
lawful and beneficent of governments. The required
speculative basis for the received Whig doctrine that
a man could not be taxed without his consent was
found in the theory that by the Law of Nature — by a
self-evident principle which was prior to and inde
pendent of the social contract in which governments
were supposed to originate — whatever a man mixed
his labour with, that was indefeasibly his own. The
doctrine was one which practically denied all rights
whatever to the landless man, who could only live
in a country by sufferance of its landlords. However
little labour the supposed first occupier of land might
choose to raingle with however rauch territory, not all
the kings or all the parliaments or all the assembled
manhood of the country could lawfully take from
him a single acre. If a combination of landlords
chose to grow no food upon their land, the rest of the
inhabitants must starve without protest. Were a
combination of landlords to prefer the scenery of a
wilderness to the profits of agriculture and coraraerce,
they could lawfully (it would seem on Lockian prin
ciples) compel the rest of its inhabitants to quit the
country. In so doing they would not infringe upon
the natural freedom of mankind, for are not the
evicted population free to walk into the sea? To
* Treatise of Civil Government.

196 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
develope the logical consequences of such a doctrine
is surely refutation enough. Yet it must not be
supposed that the doctrine is dead. It lives still
in the writings of not a few political philosophers,
especially in America.* And a remarkable illustration
has recently been afforded of the lengths to which
a priori views of property may yet be carried in the
great paradise of democracy, when the advocates
of the United States in the Behring Sea Arbitration
solemnly contended .that the labour of letting the
seals breed upon their shores gave them an in
defeasible right against all the world to pursue them
and capture them upon the high seas. It is true
that the chief stress was laid upon the highly specu
lative' psychology which attributed to the vagrant
animals an animus revertendi, but that contention
would hardly have served the purpose for which it
was intended without the initial assuraption that any
quantity of the natural wealth of the Universe may
be for ever appropriated by whoever chooses to take
the trouble of first annexing it.
There is a rauch more popular doctrine abroad
as to the basis of property, which after all rests upon
essentially the same precarious foundations. It is the
doctrine which seeks to base property upon the sup
posed right of every raan to the products of his
labour. It is forgotten that, as a general rule, labour
creates no wealth without being " mixed " (as Locke
puts it) with more or less of the raw material of
the earth. And it will produce less or raore wealth
* See, for instance, Mr. Herbert Spencer's ysw/'zVe and Woolsby's
Political Science.

OF PROPERTY 197
according to the opportunities which each individual
enjoys of access to the richest soil, the most
precious minerals, or the raost convenient harbours.
Hence there is no possibility of estimating what the
labour of each individual has produced unless we
have already arrived at some laws for the previous
distribution of the earth and its products. And
then again, if we suppose this difficulty surmounted,
even in the rudest society agricultural work requires
some combination. Even in the rudest society the
individual workman's labour would produce nothing
unless he were secured by the assistance of the chief
or the soldier or the organized village comraunity
against the hostile attacks of raan and beast. And
in our cpmplex industrial prganizatipn it becpmes
every day rapre and rapre imppssible tP say how
much wealth has actually been produced by each
individual citizen. In the manufactory itself each
piece of work is the joint product of many hands
and many brains : and outside the manufactory its
output could never become available for use or for
foreign exchange without the co-operation of all kinds
of social and industrial agencies. It is becoming
more and more true every day that wealth is the pro
duct of the whole of society, exclusive of the idlers.
That is true even of material wealth : it is still more
true if we remember that a nation's real life consists
not exclusively in the abundance of the things which
it possesses. Hence, even if we admitted the abstract
justice of the theory which seeks to find a basis for
property in the inalienable right of every man to the
labour of his hands and of his brain, the thepry

198 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
is one which turns out to be wholly incapable of
practical application.
A priori theories of property are sometimes urged
in a revolutionary, sometimes in a conservative
interest. In the latter case they labour under an
additional difficulty. Granted that it is a law of
nature that a man should have an exclusive right
to all that he can annex or all that the existing order
of society enables him to accumulate, it will hardly
be seriously alleged that it is equally a law of nature
that he should be able to transmit it to whom he
pleases. History teaches us how late a product of
civilization this unrestricted liberty of bequest, which
seems so natural to Englishmen and Americans,
really is : while on the continent of Europe no such
liberty actually exists. And if (with some violence
to history) the provisions of continental codes are set
aside as so many violations of natural right due to
the wickedness of the French 'Revolution, we may
remind ourselves of the provisions of the old Common
Law of England, by which, from the growth of
Feudalism till the time of Henry VIII., lands (with
certain exceptions) could not be devised by will at
all, while till a still raore recent date a testator who
left wife and children was unable to deprive them
of two-thirds of his personalty. And if we turn
to the distribution of the intestate's estates, it can
hardly be a law of nature that in Sussex land should
descend to the eldest son, in one part of the county
of Kent to the youngest, and in certain other parts
of the county of Kent to all the children equally.
The only theory of property (as it seeras to me)

OF PROPERTY 199
which will really bear examination is that which
finds its justification in the social effects of the in
stitution. It can only be justified, in so far as
it is justified, in the same way in which anything
whatever can be justified — be it a law or an insti
tution or an individual human action : — by the end
which it subserves. It can be justified only in so far
as it tends ultimately to bring about the largest
amount of Good on the whole (whatever we mean
by " good ") for society at large.
Property then is the creation of positive law.
Historically it originated in custom, which was the
earliest form of Law; and at the present raoraent
no one of us could prove his title to what he calls
his without citing the Common or Statute Law under
which it has descended or been bequeathed to him,
or to those from whom (in exchange for whatever
services) he has received it. Property, though based
no doubt on certain very deeply-seated instincts and
tendencies of huraan nature, is still the creation of
law ; and what law has created law raay alter, has
altered, is altering, and will alter. The very same
considerations of social expediency which justify the
right of private property as the best means hitherto
devised for stimulating the individual's energies in
productive work raust dictate its liraits. To the
fraraers of those Araerican constitutions which de
clared the sacredness of property to be part of the
law of nature, it seeraed axiomatic that property
in slaves was as sacred an institution as property in
land, or that property in the services of others which
is the real meaning of all other capital. Yet slavery

200 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
has been abolished by Acts of Parliament and Acts
of Congress. Every tax that is voted, every Act
which imposes, in the interest of human life and
health, fresh duties upon the owners of mines or
factories or dwelling-houses, is as emphatic an asser
tion of the State's supremacy over property as the
most high-handed confiscatipns pf a revplutipnary
gpvernment. Tp what extent it is pr may becpme
expedient that this mpdificatipn pf private rights
should ultimately be carried is a question about
which reasonable raen may hold very different
opinions : and it is a question which I do not
propose to discuss now. I merely wish to discuss
the question of right. In questions of abstract
right, theories which are not thoroughgoing are
worse than useless : in questions of social expediency
the shortest views are perhaps the best. And here
perhaps it may not be wholly out of place to
remark on the reckless short-sightedness of those
who, believing (with all sensible Socialists) that it
is only by the slow and orderly methods of legis
lative improvement that social progress can be
achieved, still seem to lose no opportunity of
encouraging every effort to bring contempt upon
the law and its administrators, and to appeal
on every occasion to raob violence as the readiest
means of achieving their purpose. Those who
believe most in the power of the State to bring
about justice and better social conditions ought surely
to be foremost in promoting a religious obedience to
its laws, and an absolutely unflinching severity in
their execution. Every addition that is made to the

OF PROPERTY 201
functions of the State is an addition to the duties
of the Judge and the Magistrate, and only enhances
the importance of maintaining the authority, the
dignity, and the independence as much of the
humblest rural bench as of the highest judicial
tribunal. Those who. doubt the wisdom of an un
limited increase of State activity do so (if they are
wise) not so rauch on some a priori theory about
the rights of the individual, as because they doubt
whether a socialistic democracy would always possess
the intelligence to place power and leadership in the
hands of those who know, or exhibit the ruthless
severity which would be needed in a society wherein
idleness should be restrained only pr chiefly by the
terrprs pf the criminal law.
And nPw let us gp back tP the distinctively
Christian aspect pf Pur subject. If Christ be (as the
Church has ever taught and as we believe) the
supreme manifestation of that Reason or Wisdom of
God which speaks also in the intellect and conscience
of every human being, we raight expect to find that His
teaching would be in harraony with that of natural
Reason. There are, indeed, those who think they
can dispose (for Christian consciences at all events) of
the uncomfortable demands of social reformers by
simply referring thera to the Eighth Coramandment.
Such. persons might perhaps be puzzled to supply us
with an intelligible definition of stealing other than
"the taking of that which the Law declares to be
another man's." But it is better perhaps to meet such
objections by the broad principle that it was only by
transcending it that pur Lord professed to fulfil the

202 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
Mosaic Law. The eighth commandment as such is
no more binding upon Christian raen than the fourth.
It is only in so far as it is deducible from the great
law of love to God and man that it binds the Church
of Christ to-day. There is therefore nothing in
the Christian Law to confer upon property any
greater sacredness than it can claim as a condition of
social well-being. "Jure naturae sunt omnia com-
munia omnibus : per jura regum possidentur pos-
sessiones." "By the law of nature all things are
common to all : it is through the laws of kings that
possessions are possessed." That is the doctrine of
the Canon Law about property, and it is based upon
the teaching of St. Augustine. *
We may not, indeed, identify the eternal principle
of Christian morality with the precepts of modern
Utilitarianisra or raodern Philanthropisra, without a
word of protest. To love one's neighbpur in the
Christian sense is tP Ipve what is best and highest in
him, to prompte the best and npblest life fpr him so
far as it is consistent with the equal claims of every
Pther neighbour to a share in the best and noblest
that life affords. And the Christian conception of
this best and noblest is indeed a very different one
from what logically ought (as it seems to me) to be
the ideal of consistent Hedonism, and from the ideals
which are soraetiraes actually presented to us in the
writings of the baser sort of secularistic socialists.
Christian love will not always promote maximum
pleasure ; Christian love, as has been finely said by
* Augustine, Tract vi. ad c. i. 25 Johannis: Decretum Gratiani,
Pt. I. Dist. viii.

OF PROPERTY 203
the most Christian of raodern moralists, is the love
of the ideal man in each man.* But while we
affirm decidedly that the best social polity is not
always that which promises the quickest aliundance
of food and raiment, the maximum of amusement
and the miniraura of work for the largest nuraber of
human beings, let us beware of that easy Optimisra
which tacitly identifies vague phrases about social
stability or social order or social progress with the
welfare and the predominance of that numerically
insignificant class to which most of us in this Church
belong. If the general diffusion of a low standard of
material comfort is not always in the long run the
best thing for the poor, the raaintenance of our very
much higher standard of material comfort and luxury
may not always be really the best thing for us.
It is quite as much in the interest of the rich as of
the poor that we desire to see a less unequal distribu
tion of the national wealth. We are told by
Aristotle in the best of all arguments against
Socialism that it destroys the possibility of two of
the greatest virtues — liberality and self-control, f It
would be interesting to enquire how raany of the
virtues are raade, to say the least of it, difficult for
the possessors of great wealth, so long as they
continue to live as the possessors of great wealth are
expected to live. I do not at all seek to disparage
the generous qualities that seem often to be positively
fostered by wealth when it comes attended by
hereditary responsibilities and traditions of public
* Ecce homo, chap, xviii.
t Pol. ii. c. 5 (p. 1263^).

204 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
service. But can it seriously be contended that the
education of a rich man's son in England at this day
is the best calculated to foster such virtues as
humility, thrift, industry, temperance in its widest
and highest sense, reverence for authority, respect
and consideration for all sorts and conditions of men
— in a word, a due sense of the relative importance
of himself and other people ? This is a questipn tp
which those who are so solicitous lest the raorals of
the poor should be corrupted by overmuch material
prosperity might well be invited to address them
selves. And, lest we fall into the pharisaic self-
satisfaction which attends the condemnation of
modes of life which are not within our own power,
we raay remind ourselves that many of us who enjoy
what the world calls quite small incomes may yet
find themselves practically in very much the same
position — able to take our fill of all the pleasures
and enjoyments for which we have really any mind,
without feeling the faintest breath of social re
prehension even from that portion of society which
professes to make Christ's standard its own.
And this brings me to the point on which I chiefly
want to insist. What may or raay not be done by
the State to bring about a less unequal, a juster, a
more spcially expedient distributipn of wealth, this is
not the time or place to enquire ; even if it were wise
to go, in such a forecast, very far beyond the next
step which is warranted by the actual results of past
experience. But what I want specially to suggest
for our consideration this morning is this — that the
same principle which justifies the existence of

OF PROPERTY 205
property should govern the expenditure of it by each
member of a Christian society. The existence of
property is justified only in so far as it tends to the
common good : the expenditure of property ought
to be governed by the sarae rule. There are un
doubtedly many reasons (so far as I see, it will always
be so more or less) which make it socially expedient
and therefore right for the State to allow the in
dividual to accumulate and to bequeath a rauch
larger share of the wealth produced by the coraraon
toil than he could claim on any principle pf abstract
justice as the reward pf his pwn perspnal exertipns.
But these pplitical cpnsideratipns do not require the
individual to spend upon himself and his family all
that the Law declares to be his. And as Christians
we are bound to regulate our expenditure by the law
of General Weil-Being which (as I have tried to
shpw) is, prpperly interpreted, identical with the
Christian law pf Love. By that it is not meant that
the individual is to disregard altogether his own
happiness even in the most material sense of the
word. My happiness is of exactly the same intrinsic
iraportance as that of anybody else. No raan is
required to love his neighbour better than hiraself
I could not, indeed, say with a philosophic Judge,
that we are so constituted that the greater part — im
measurably the greater part — of my conduct ought
to be regulated by a regard to rayself and ray own
interests rather than by a regard to my neighbour
and his interests. Even were the social effects of a
general selfishness just tinged by Altruism so un
exceptionable as this dictum seeras tp suggest, tP

206 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
admit such a rule of conduct without limitation or
explanation would be to ignore the great Aristotelian
doctrine that the unselfish man after all cares for the
best part of himself Still, the principle is sound in
some things and to some extent. It is best in the
general interest that we should each of us raake
reasonable provision for his own health, comfort, and
happiness — in spite of the philosophical prejudice
against pleasure, I am not ashamed to say his own
pleasure — provided we remeraber always that the
external goods with which we seek to provide our
selves can never be more than the conditions of any
happiness which the Christian can call his good.
Under existing circumstances (and probably under
any circumstances that we need look forward to) the
application of this principle will undoubtedly demand
very considerable inequality in the distribution of
the good things of life — even in that distribution
which each of us has to raake for hiraself of the
raaterial goods over which he has legal control. It
would not be for the general good that we should all
of us — there are of course exceptional sacrifices
which may always be made by those whom God has
called to them — but it would not be for the general
good that we should all of us under all circumstances
allow ourselves only such enjoyments and indulgences
as might fall to our lot under some ideal distribution
of goods. As things are now, a higher standard of
comfort is demanded for the reasonable satisfaction
of natural desires, and even for the due perforraance
of social duty, in sorae classes than in others. And
other things which hardly admit of rational justifica-

OF PROPERTY 207
tion in themselves are made necessary by social con
ventions and arrangements which cannot rapidly be
changed. But, while making all allowance for these
and many other practical considerations on which I
have no time to dwell, I would venture to insist that
neither any rational nor any Christian morality can
justify any expenditure except in so far as it is in the
long run, given the existing circurastances, on the
whole best for the general well-being (including
therein the individual's own well-being) that the
wealth should be so expended.
And, after making all allowance for the necessity
of more or less conformity with raore or less
irrational conventions, can it be said that the raode
of living which is usual even among public-spirited
and religiously-minded rich people really commends
itself to the enlightened conscience as socially ex
pedient ? Or that the rich would not be better and
as happy with fewer houses, servants, yachts, and
horses? And are we not all of us tempted with
every increase of income siraply to mount one step
higher on the ladder of luxury, or to make provision
for doing so, or enabling our heirs to do so, at some
future time? Are we not all apt to forget the
perfectly indisputable truth that there is only a
limited araount of wealth at any given time for the
comraunity to divide, and that it is not possible, by
any contrivance or hocus-pocus of economic sophis
try, to show that I can take more of it for myself
without somebody else taking less ?
It is not every one who has earned the right to
offer rauch in the way of practical counsel or sugges-

2o8 THE CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE
tion upon this raatter of personal expenditure.
Certainly I have none. And therefore I shall
confine rayself to laying down a principle, and
leaving others to apply it to their own individual
circurastances. But, to prevent misunderstanding, I
will venture to add just two remarks, at the risk of
seeraing to some to be making excuses for capitalistic
self-indulgence, and to others to be plunging into
an abyss of socialistic extravagance, (i) I do not
myself believe that for people situated as are most
of us any very conspicuous or eccentric departure
from the conventionalities of the society in which
we live is at present what is really wanted. It is in
that considerable margin^ of expenditure which social
customs do leave within our own discretion that
room should be found for the restitution to society of
some part of whatever superfluous unearned wealth
existing social arrangements may have made legally
ours. And, if we steadily make this our aim, it may
be that we shall be able in tirae to contribute just a
little to raake unusual kinds of expenditure which
are now usual though not strictly necessary, and tp
make less necessary sprae things which raay npw be
more or less plausibly considered necessary. (2) On
the other hand, we must not for one raoment lay to
our souls the flattering unction that we can do our
duty in this matter without some self-denial, and
perhaps at times in some cases a little moral courage.
We are not called upon to make ourselves miserable,
or solitary, or ridiculous, or to injure our health or
capacity for work, even though some of our wants
may possibly be wants which would never be felt in

OF PROPERTY 209
a more healthily organized society. That would iiot
be sociably expedient. It would clearly not be for
the general good that no one should begin to enjoy
his life till all wrongs were righted, all inequalities
removed, and all misery abated. But still some
things that we should like we must try to learn how
to do without. Neither by any legislative improve-
raent, nor by any ingenious device of economical
philanthropy, will it ever be possible to make the
poor about us a little more corafortable (as we all
profess we should like to raake thera) withput the
rich becpming a gppd deal less rich (whether on com
pulsion or by their own voluntary abstinence), and
without many of us who would never call ourselves
rich being made or making ourselves a little poorer.
The great work which lies before the Church of our
day is to revive among Christians, not what I believe
to be the completely imaginary and unhistorical
comraunisra sometimes attributed to the infant
Church of Jerusalem, but some approach to that
relative comraunity of goods which enabled the early
apologists all through the first age of the Church to
boast that Christians still in a real sense had all
things common.

XIII.
DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's,
March 7, 1891.
' ' For the body is not one member but many. "
I Cor. xii. 14.
IT is often assumed that religious differences relate
wholly to Theology, while Morality is a matter
about which all decent and well-meaning people are
substantially agreed. I believe it would be truer to
say that all the deepest religious differences which
divide men and nations into hostile camps are ulti
mately traceable to differences of moral ideal. This
is true of the profoundest religious divisions such
as that which separates Christianity from Paganism
or Mohammedanism : and it is true also of conflicting
schools and sects and tendencies within the bosom
of Christendom itself, especially of the great line
of demarcation between Protestantism and Roman
Catholicism. No doubt the raoral ideal often survives
for a tirae the Theplpgy out of which it has sprung,
while in other cases the Theology outlives the raoral
ideal which it created. The Christian ideal of life

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 211
commands the homage of thousands among sceptical
Europeans or educated Hindoos who reject the
Christian Creed. On the other hand, if we go behind
words and formulae and get at things, the moral ideal
of an enlightened raodern Dorainican like Lacordaire
is as different as can well be conceived from the
raoral ideal which animated the Dominican Inquisitor
of the Middle Ages. We may, indeed, thankfully
acknowledge that as regards the fundamentals of the
Christian ideal, stripped of foreign accretions and im- ^
purities, there is an agreement which often transcends
the formal limits of the Christian Churches. But we
should deceive ourselves, if we imagined that were
Christian Theology to disappear as an effective force
in moulding the minds of men, Christian Morality, at
least, would still reraain beyond the reach of criticism.
If we have forgotten the intellectual history of the
Renaissance, there is enough in the literature of our
own age to remind us that a recrudescence of
Paganism in belief is but too likely to bring with it
a recrudescence of Paganism in morals. And if we
penetrate behind a thin veil of conventional decorum
(sometimes very thin), we shall find, I think, that the
moral ideal actually taught by many writers (even in
England) who cannpt be charged with Paganism in
any grpsser sense, is nevertheless fundamentally
ppppsed to the ideal with which Christianity is
eternally bound up.
The symbol of the Christian Faith in all ages has
been the cross, and the cross means nothing if it does
not mean self-sacrifice. No one who accepts — I will
not say the divine Nature or the divine Mission — but

212 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
the moral leadership of Jesus Christ, can consistently
accept any moral ideal which puts anything else above
character or which estimates any quality of character
more highly than Love, I do not say that the word
"self-sacrifice" is by itself an adequate account of the
moral ideal, I do not deny that the ideal of self-
sacrifice has sometiraes been taught by the Christian
Church in a way which is at the least lamentably one
sided, even when it has not been pushed to the point
of degrading superstition. When once self-sacrifice
is inculcated as an end in itself, when once self-
inflicted torture is regarded either as intrinsically
meritorious and well -pleasing to God, or as at least
conducive to holiness apart from the higher object for
the sake of which the sacrifice is made, it is diffi
cult to see on what grounds we can withhold our
sympathy and our admiration from the Indian Fakir
hanging suspended from a hook driven through his
flesh, or extending an arm for a week together with
out rest or sleep. The moral ideal which fpund its
highest expressipn in St. Simon Stylites, is, indeed,
removed but one hair's-breadth from the moral ideal
of the Fakir. But at the present time it can hardly
be necessary to show that the Stylite ideal is not the
ideal of Jesus or of his Apostles. By the best even
araong the ascetics of Christendom painful austerities
are recommended only as the means to a higher life,
even though some of them may differ widely from
modern opinion and from St. Paul as to the profit
ableness of o-w/xaTiKi] yvfivacria for that purpose ; and
in the genuine teaching of our Lord Himself (when
purged of the allusions to fasting introduced by later

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 213
transcribers*), I think it will be found that self-sacrifice
is always inculcated for the sake of others. Not the
abnegation of self, but the preference for others over
self is the essence of Christian morality.
When this explanation is given, it will be seen
that there is no necessary antagonisra between the
moral ideal which takes self-sacrifice as its watch
word, and the raoral ideal which is expressed by
those phrases so popular in the philosophical cant
of our day — "self-development, self-realization, self-
culture." Christian self-sacrifice only means the sacri
fice of one part of the self to another and higher
part. Self-development may be explained to mean
only the development of the higher self — the social
self — at the expense of the lower, the self-seeking,
the individualistic self We are all familiar with the
hackneyed attempt to Christianise the self-love, the
(fnXavTia, of Aristotle. But it will hardly be ques
tioned that this effort to bridge over the gulf between
the Christian and the Hellenic ideals really ignores
fundamental differences. We have given up the
attempt to harmonise Aristotle and Bishop Butler :
and, if we turn from the ancients to the modern
admirers of Hellenic morality, they would be .the
first to repudiate with scorn the gloss which the
raedieval comraentators and the Oxford tutors of
three generations back used to put upon the Aris
totelian formulae. It is of the essence of the ideal
which the apostles of self-development propound
that no part of the self shall be sacrificed. The
* In Mark ix. 29 the xaX vriarelq. and in Matt. xvii. 21 the whole
verse, are insertions rejected by Westcott and Hort and the Revisers.

2X4 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
aniraal eleraents in our nature are to have full play
no less than the spiritual, the aesthetic no less than
the raoral, the self-regarding quite as rauch as the
social, if indeed the intrusion of society and its
clairas is not resented as mere "parochialism" or
mere fanaticism. At all events, it is the tendency of
this Neo-Hellenic morality to put the intellectual
above the altruistic impulses, to raake individual
culture a self-sufficing end, and to laugh to scorn all
atterapts to justify or to limit such culture by the
requirements of social well-being, even when the
widest and highest extension is given to the con
ception of social well-being. Development of the
faculties, art for art's sake, poetry without preaching,
novels without a purpose, description of life without
criticism of life, self-culture without literary activity,
passion without restraint, intensity at all costs, study
without teaching — such are some of the notes of the
school, or rather schools (for the tendency has various
phases), which I have in mind. Indeed, the only way
in which it is possible to find a definite content for
the purely formal notion of self-development is to
understand it as demanding the equal, or at all events
the perfectly harmonious development of all the
faculties and impulses of our nature. To assert
merely that some development of all parts of our
nature is desirable would be to assert what hardly
anyone will deny. The most uncoraproraising of
ascetics have condemned at least the more violent
and rapid methods of self-destruction. The obscu
rantism of the Dark Ages allowed a certain develop
ment of the intellectual faculties — at least with a

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 215
view to the comprehension of the constructions and
syllogisms, the rhetorical tropes and figures, which
they adraitted to be contained in the pages of Holy
Scripture itself. The question is how rauch develop
ment is to be accorded to the animal nature, how
much to the intellectual, how much to the social?
and in case of collision which is to give way to
which? Hence the only intelligible raeaning which
can be given to this ideal of self-development is to
understand it as implying an equal, all-round
development in which no one part of man's nature
shall be sacrificed to the claims of any other, still
less the claims of individual perfection to those of
social well-being. Now it may be worth while to
consider for a moment not whether this ideal supplies
a basis for either a Christian or a rational raorality,
but whether it supplies a possible, a self-consistent
ideal of human life at all.
Take for instance the relation of bodily to intel
lectual developraent. The "mens sana in corpore
sano " is of course a charming ideal. But there are
different kinds of bodily health. And the health
which is most favourable to intellectual activity is
certainly not the rude health of the athlete or the
fox-hunter. When a man who was once celebrated
as an oar or a cricketer becomes a Bishop or a
Judge, we commonly find the incident hailed by
certain portions of the press as a welcome indication
that athleticism is compatible with the highest intel
lectual achievement. And of course it is true enough
that a few raen do succeed in so far reconciling the
conflicting claims as to attain high success in the

2i6 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
schools, in athletics, and in after life. But this does
not show that even these exceptional men have
sacrificed nothing of their intellectual development
to their athletic prowess. They have had time to
row or play cricket, to read enough for a first class,
and to get on in the world. But have they left
themselves tirae to think ? Moreover, the athletic
success which such raen obtain is seldom the very
highest success — the success of avowed or virtual
professionals : at all events it usually closes with
their undergraduate career. Of course at this time
of day it will be quite superfluous to insist that some
active exercise is positively conducive to intellectual
work, or that with some men a raoderate athleticism
is not inconsistent with very high intellectual de
velopment. All that I want to point out is the fact
which will hardly be disputed — that as a rule the
highest development of the bodily faculties is incom
patible with the highest intellectual development.
Body raust be sacrificed to raind, or mind to body.
And so when we come to competing forras of
intellectual activity, we shall find that it is impossible
to develope one side of a man's intellectual nature
except at the expense of some other. Specialism is
(at least at the present day) the condition of doing
anything considerable in any branch of knowledge
whatever. A man may undoubtedly specialise in
more than one direction, he may even make a
speciality of the relations between two or more
branches of knowledge — but specialise in some way
he must. And specialism always means sacrifice.
Just think for a raoment of the sacrifices which a

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 217
man must make to achieve any considerable piece
of scientific or literary work. He must spend weeks,
months, years over details which do very little for
the general development of his own mental powers.
He raust be content to remain ignorant of things
which other raen know, not to read what everybody
about hira is reading, deliberately to narrow and
restrict the range of his natural interests. It is not
raerely that his time is devoted to one particular
subject, instead of being divided among several. The
concentration upon one subject involves the exercise
of certain faculties, the disuse and consequent de
generation of others. The reasoning faculties are
developed at the expense of the imagination, or the
imagination at the expense of the Reason. Philo
sophic subtlety is developed at the expense of
literary power, or literary power at the expense of
philosophic subtlety. Exactness is sacrificed to
picturesque presentation, or picturesque presentation
to exactness. The mind is stored with some par
ticular class of facts or ideas, its capacity for some
particular kind of observation is quickened and
strengthened, while it contracts a proportionate in
capacity for observing or dealing with other facts and
ideas. Charles Darwin has told us how completely
in his own case the contemplation of nature in her
" subtilior metaschematismus " extinguished his once
keen sensibility to her beauty and her poetry. We
may fully admit the desirability of guarding (so far
as possible) against the narrowing influence of highly
specialised studies : we may assert emphatically that
in most departments the man who is a mere specialist

2i8 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
will not be a good specialist. But put as high as you
like the importance of correcting the narrowness of
specialisra by general culture, and it will not avert
the inevitable conclusion that high excellence in any
department of intellectual effort is only attainable by
sacrifice — by raore or less sacrifice of one faculty to
another, of pne part pf the self tp anPther. The
atterapt at an equal, prppprtipnate, all-round develop
raent can only end in sciolism, in mediocrity, in an
ineffectual dilettantism.
And is it otherwise with the conflict between
intellectual and practical or social claims ? One
would like to think there was none. But, if we look
the matter in the face, one can hardly deny that
what is best for a man's intellectual development is
not always best for his moral development, if for
the moraent I raay provisionally limit the idea of
moral development to the development of the social
activities and the social sympathies. For the sake
of clearness let us take two careers, one practical
and the other speculative, but in all other respects
as like one another as possible. Let us suppose a
man hesitating between the career of an East London
clergyman, and the career of a student and teacher
of Theology. Can there be much doubt that at the
end of ten years of really earnest parish work in
East London, sympathy for suffering, indifference to
personal comfort and luxury, active zeal for righteous
ness and justice, personal devoutness, active hatred
of evil, the conviction of the necessity of spiritual
remedies for the disease of a sick world — can there
be any reasonable doubt (I say) that in all human

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 219
probability these qualities will be more developed,
this side of the man's self will be more developed
than would have been the case had the same raan
devoted those ten years raainly to the study of such
raatters as the origin of the Synoptic Gospels, or the
evolution of Christian dogma ? It is not fair indeed
to state the case as if it were wholly a question of
moral versus intellectual development: there is an
antagonism between conflicting qualities even within
the moral sphere itself The speculative life has its
virtues as well as the practical, though these virtues
may rank lower in the moral scale. To say nothing
of the laborious patience which is demanded by both
lives, it is not only in knowledge, in intellectual
insight, in subtlety, in acuteness, in breadth of view
that the practical man will, sooner or later, fall
behind the student. As a rule, the necessities of
active work — especially of active religious work —
are not favourable to love of truth (wherever truth
cannot be made immediately available for purposes
of edification or practical utility), to appreciation for
opponents,, to scrupulous accuracy of statement, to
delicate discrimination between degrees of probability
and so on. Here again it is clear that one part of
the raan's nature is necessarily developed at the
expense of another, "There are very few," says
Goethe, "who have a great mind, and at the same
time are disposed to action. Intellect broadens our
thought, but tends to weaken the will ; action in
spires, but it is liable to limit our breadth of view."
One may fully and cordially admit that it is well for
the practical man to keep up his studies, and for the

220 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
speculative man to keep up his contact with practical
life and practical human needs. Up -to a certain
point knowledge increases usefulness and experience
deepens insight — but only up to a certain point.
Here also it remains true that sooner or later one
kind of development must be sacrificed to another.
Excellence is only obtainable at the price of self-
sacrifice. We have a choice of sacrifices, but that is
all. Sacrifice there must be in every noble life.
There is no such thing as abstract, all-round per
fection. Whether it be a person or a thing, perfection
is essentially relative. That is perfect which perfectly
performs its furictions. To seek for an ideal of the
individual human life without regard to the needs of
the complex society of which the individual is a
member, without reference to the function which he
is called upon to discharge in that society, is like
asking what is the perfect form or the perfect
structure of a particular feature or a particular
member in the human body, apart from its relation
to other parts with which it is in organic union.
There may be a perfect lawyer or a perfect clergy
man : there cannot, strictly speaking, be any such
thing as a perfect raan in the abstract. Indeed, if
we push the matter further, the moral ideal cannot
be quite the same for any two persons. No two
persons are exactly alike either in the circumstances
of their life or in their natural endowments : and the
moral ideal for every man — in its actual content —
is relative to these two things, circumstance and
capacity. Every man's duty depends on his vocation :
and the vocation of no two men is exactly alike.

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 221
The raan is perfect, his true self is developed, when
he is perfect after his kind, when he perfectly fulfils
his true vocation ; just as every leaf in the forest is
perfect after its kind, though no two are exactly alike.
The principle of self-developraent and the principle
of self-sacrifice are harraonised by the principle of
vocation. Apart from the principle that the develop
ment of the individual must be subordinated to the
demands of the particular function which he is to
discharge in a society, why should we withhold our
respectful admiration from the exquisite intellectual
cultivation incidental to a successful career in the
higher branches of forgery ? By all possible avenues
of human activity self-development may be pursued ;
we can only say which direction, which kind of self-
development is the true one when we look at the
individual in his relations to the society of which
he forras a part : and, when we do look at him in
that light, it at once becomes apparent that the
principle of self-development is only the reverse, the
opposite side — as the convex to the concave — of
the great Christian law of self-sacrifice. The anti
social self is sacrificed that the social self may be
developed. It may possibly -be thought that what I have said
as to the impossiblity of a perfect man in the abstract,
is in some way inconsistent with the position which
all Christians accord to Christ as the perfect man, the
pne true and perfect mpdel fpr the imitation of us
all.- But Christ was not (if I may say so) a perfect man
in general. He was a man who perfectly fulfilled a
certain definite social function. The function which

222 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
he discharged was indeed an absolutely unique one :
his vocation was the highest of all vocations. All of
us are called to follow him, but not all are called
upon to follow him in the same way. All are called
to tread in his footsteps, but not all are called upon to
tread in them with equal - closeness. The actual
vocation which Christ discharged no other man can
ever fulfil. His whole career was inspired by the
conviction of His own unique vocation as the Messiah,
He is the Head, we are the raembers. There can be
but one Head of the human race. No other man's
vocation can ever be the same as Christ's. Some
vocations may approximate more closely to Christ's
than others. In proportion to the measure of sacrifice
which they demand, in proportion to the moral
dignity of their service, is the approximation of
other vocations to His. The vocation of the mis
sionary approximates more closely to Christ's than
that of the lawyer or the soldier. The work of
rescuing souls from sin, the vocation of a Wesley
or a Whitfield, of a Lowder or a Mackonochie, is
(if we consider it in the abstract) raorally higher
than that of the student, the critic, or the historian,
even though the subject-matter of his work be
Theology, even though in the saintliness of his life
he may tread in the footsteps of Green, of Lightfoot,
or of Church. But vocations which in the form of
their service may be less like Christ's are none the
less necessary than the vocations which approximate
most closely to His in their spirituality, in their
austerity, in the weight of the cross which they
impose. The task of the eye is nobler than that

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 223
of the hand ; but " the eye cannot say unto the hand,
I have no need of thee," nor again the hand to the
feet, " I have no need of you." Directly spiritual is
higher than intellectual work : some kinds of intel
lectual work are higher than others ; philanthropy is
higher work than the ordinary business of lucrative
trades or professions ; and among professions some
are higher than others : but all are necessary. One
vocation differs from another vocation in glory, but
all are necessary to the well-being of the body —
Humanity — that body which, if it realized the ideal
for which it was created, would be identical with
the Body of which Christ is the Head. In one
respect only all alike are called upon to a- literal
imitation of Christ. The work of all vocations
requires self-sacrifice — different in measure, different
in kind, but all alike are called upon to take up
the cross and follow Christ by the surrender of
their individual desires and inclinations to the per
fect fulfilment of the task allotted to each in
promoting the highest well-being of Humanity. In
the perfect fulfilment of that task — never exactly
the same for any two persons — lies the only true
perfection, the only true self-development, of which
each of us is capable.
When we compare the kind of life which raost of
us lead in a place like Oxford with the life involun
tarily endured by the working classes of our own
tirae, or with the life voluntarily adopted by the best
parochial clergyraen, it must be confessed that one is
apt to be struck by the feeling that there is an un
reality in attempting to bring the idea of self-sacrifice

224 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
into connection with such a life as ours. Let rae
endeavour therefore to give a practical turn to the
principle which I have been laying down, by two
reflections. (i) I have said that the true self which each of
us is called upon to develope to the utraost extent
of his capacity is the self which is most perfectly
adapted for the service of his fellow-men in the par
ticular relation of life wherein he stands. The self
therefore which we are called upon to deny or to
renounce is the self which is unadapted to that
particular social function. All that stands in the
way of our work, the work of our vocation, that is
the first thing that we have to give up, that we are
called upon to deny ourselves remorselessly. Perfect
self-surrender to the work of our calling, the per
formance of every demand that it makes upon us
as a religious duty, as a piece of service to our fellow-
men — that is the primary,, that is the most important
kind of self-sacrifice which we are called upon to
practise. It ought not to distress us, if we are sure
that we have discerned our vocation rightly, that our
service is less onerous and therefore in a sense less
exalted service than that of some, that its demands
are less exacting, that our work is found to be pleasant
and accordant with our natural tastes and inclinations.
Every vocation imposes some unpleasant duties : let
us be content with performing thera. Every vocation
offers some opportunities of usefulness — even of
spiritual usefulness. Let us raake the most of them.
The self that likes its work is the self tP be developed
freely, not to be denied.

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 225
(2) But besides the work of his calling or pro
fession, everybody has clearly anpther life in which
he raay, he raust if he is tP be a Christian, practise
spme self-denial. The vocation of most of us in
Oxford, whether we are here for a longer or a shorter
time, the vocation of many of the ordinary secular
professions to which Oxford raen go when they leave
Oxfprd, is a rapre or less easy and attractive one.
The work of such vocations, however laborious, is
generally more or less interesting. Compared with
the work of the miner or the factory hand, even the
drudgery of commonplace professions ceases to be
very burdensome. And the life of such professions
not only admits, but even demands, a good deal of
what a Christian Apostle or a working man of the
present day would call luxury. To confine ourselves
to our own life here, there is a good deal of this
luxury which we could not give up if we were willing
to make the sacrifice, without more or less making
ourselves less fitted for the work that we have to do
here. It would not, indeed, hinder, perhaps it would
aid our work as teachers and as students, if we did
literally obey the Gospel precept by taking a little
less thought than we do about what we eat and drink.
But the individual would in raost cases not do his
work better, but worse, if he were to withdraw hira
self altogether from the social life, frora the ordinary
-hospitalities, from the ordinary amusements of the
place. The teacher and the student would become
less fit for their work : the undergraduate would lose
some of his preparation for future work. We should,
Q

226 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
most of us, do our work, not better but worse, were
we housed like working men, were we never to allow
ourselves a holiday abroad, were we never to buy a
book which we could possibly do without. A certain
measure of comfort and luxury — in some cases a
very considerable measure — is practically (for ordi
nary men) involved in the position in life to which
we are called. But if that is so, surely we are
specially bound to practice such self-denial as is
possible, — such self-denial as will not destroy health,
spirits, energy, contentment of mind, capacity for
work. In order that we raay fulfil our vocation as
students, it is necessary that we should often turn a
deaf ear to the cry of human raisery, — that we should
spend the bulk of our tirae on matters which may
often seem trifling enough when we look to their
iraraediate results, and then turn to the world with
its sorrows and its sins, which we are doing so little
directly to combat. It is right and necessary that
we should do so ; nobody will doubt that, who studies
in history the disastrous results of attempting to
confine intellectual culture to the immediately useful
or the immediately edifying — the disastrous results
of attempting to condemn intellectual life in the
interest of Morality or Religion. It is right and
necessary; but do we do all that we can to com
pensate for our lack of personal service by freely
giving back to others some portion of the large share
which we absorb of the wealth which the labour of
others has created for us ?
Such and such expenses and indulgences are

DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION 227
positively good and necessary, such and such others
: — fn theraselves hard to reconcile with the claims of
our fellow-men — are practically inevitable under
existing circumstances; but do we not soraetiraes
unduly extend the bounds of the necessary and
inevitable? Such and such concessions raust be
made to the requireraents of hospitality, to social
conventionalities, to our own acquired habits, to
our own weakness, to the circurastances of our
position ; but do we not sometiraes push such con
cessions to a point which practically means that
we have adopted another ideal than that of the
Cross ?
Such are some of the questions which every recur
ring Lent, every approaching Holy Week, ought to
bring before our minds — which we must answer for
ourselves, each of us in the depths of his own con
science. For raost of us, it is not what is ordinarily
called asceticism, either in the stern sense which it
bore when people really believed in the supreme
excellence of self-torture, or in the attenuated form
which it usually assumes in raodern times, so much
as simplicity, and moderation, and respect for the
clairas of others, which will forra the best Lenten
discipline in our time and station. Simplicity and
moderation in pleasure and amusement of every
kind, not only in Lent, hard work (not for six
months of the year only), systematic liberality in
giving — such (as it seems to me) is the true asceti
cism for our own day. All of them are necessary
if we would (in any, however iraperfect raeasure)

228 DIFFERENCES OF VOCATION
realize the Christian ideal of self-sacrifice interpreted
by the great Pauline principle of Vocation — the
principle which calls upon us to develope the self
most perfectly adapted to the work which our ex
ternal position and our inward capacities point out
for us, the work which the providence of God has
assigned to each of us as merabers of the one body
in union with Christ the Head.

XIV.
CHRIST AND CULTURE
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mary's, 1897.
" And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature." — Luke ii. 52.
SUCH are the words of the Evangelist. And here
are the words of a commentator, no less a one
than the great St. Bernard : " Semper Jesus virilem
animum habuit, etsi semper in corpore vir non appa-
ruit."* "Jesus had always the mind of a man, even
though he did not always appear ih bodily form a
man." The Saint even goes on out of the fulness of
his information to tell us that our Lord was a full-
grown man even before his birth — "not less," he
assures us, "in wisdom when conceived than when
born, when sraall than when full-grown."
The history of the evasions, the sophistries, the
dishonesties by which Theologians have attempted to
explain away such statements as those of our text in
the interests of a dogmatic theory about the Person
of our Lord Jesus Christ is one of the most curious
chapters in the history of huraan thought. The con
troversy as to the limits of Christ's human knowledge
is a very old one. It occupies a prominent place
* Horn, super Missus est, ii. lo, quoted by Canon Gore, Disserta
tions on subjects connected with the Incarnation, p. 167 (note).
229

230 CHRIST AND CULTURE
both in the later patristic age and in the age of the
Schoolmen. And in both periods there were men
of unblemished orthodoxy who declined to outrage
common sense and to distort the language of Scrip
ture by representing Christ as a non-natural man in
whom the indwelling Logos had practically removed
all the limitations necessarily involved in a true
humanity. A very little thought is necessary to
show that if Christ really knew everything, knew
all the facts of Physical Science, of History, of
Criticisra ; truths which it has taken many thousand
years to accumulate, truths of which not one-
twentieth part can be mastered by the raost gifted
individual in the longest lifetirae, and which taken
together must form but an infinitesimal part of the all
that there is to know — if He knew all this, without
having ever learned, He would not have been in any
true sense a man. The medieval Realist might see
in Him the union of an abstract humanity with an
abstract divinity, but such a humanity could liave
had nothing in common with the humanity that we
know, with the humanity that in each one of us cries
out for someone to help it in its aspirations after the
knowledge and the love of God. To ascribe such a
knowledge to Christ is to destrpy the very idea of an
Incarnation. Not many years ago the notion that
such doctrine was necessarily implied in the Church's
doctrine of the Divinity of Jesus Christ was slowly
eating away the faith of many who were crying out
for a rational belief It was possible for a popular
novelist to represent a highly-educated clergyman as
surrendering all faith in historical Christianity because

CHRIST AND CULTURE 231
he had come to the conclusion that the book of Daniel
was not a true piece of history — a fact supposed to be
included in the general guarantee which our Lord
was represented to have given to the plenary inspira
tion and historic infallibility of the whole Old Testa
ment We cannot be too grateful to the living
Theologian* whose courage and leaming have made
it possible without concealment and without reproach
to adopt the view of the greatest Fathers and of the
boldest Schoolmen as to the limitations of Christ's
knowledge ; and to take in literal earnest the doctrine
of the New Testament and of the Church of England :
" Christ in the truth of our nature was made like unto
us in all things, sin only excepted."
But I do not wish to-day to dwell upon the
dogmatic aspects of our text. I want rather to draw
a practical lesson from this siraple statement that
Jesus Christ had to learn, that He spent (as is implied
by the words of our text) some years in intellectual
study, and that such study was necessary to fit Him
for the unique task which lay before Him, We are
so familiar with the idea of our intellectual debt to
Greece, and our moral and religious obligations to
Judea, culminating in the supreme debt that the
world owes to our Lord Jesus Christ, that we are
perhaps apt to overlook the intellectual side of His
work. Nobody will deny the vast amount of truth
that is contained in that striking generalisation of Sir
Henry Maine's : " Everything in the world that moves
is Greek in its origin." The more the ultimate
sources of the Philosophy, the Science, the Mathe-
* Canon Gore.

232 CHRIST AND CULTURE
matics, the Medicine of the Arabs and other Oriental
pepples are explpred, the rapre clear dpes it becpme
that in such raatters the functipn pf the Semitic
pepples was adaptatipn, transmissipn, develppraent,
rather than priginatipn. But spraetimes an a priori
theory as to the Greek origin of the world's greatest
ideas finds expression in baseless attempts to affiliate
even religious ideas of Jewish and Christian origin
to various phases of Greek philosophic thought:
while the same prejudice also causes Christian minds
to overlook the intellectual greatness of the Jewish
prophets and the intellectual revolution which was
effected by the appearance upon the stage of his
tory of Hira whora we reverence as the Son of
God. True it is that in the raain the work of
Jesus was moral and spiritual, not intellectual. The
truths that He came to reveal were intensely practical
moral and religious truths, not truths of Philosophy,
or Science, or Criticism. It is the character of God,
His moral relation to us and our relation to Him, not
the laws of His government in the Physical Universe,
that we see reflected in the life and consciousness of
Jesus Christ. The purpose too of His work was all
primarily moral — to change raen's hearts and wills,
not to instruct their intellects. His raethod again was
primarily moral, not intellectual. He appealed to
the conscience rather than to the speculative intellect:
He moved men by personal influence rather than
by intellectual cross-examination. And lastly He
founded a Church, whose terms of communion are
primarily moral — attachment to a Person and to an

CHRIST AND CULTURE 233
Ideal — not a school whose unity depends upon
intellectual agreement.
And in this contrast of raethod lies no doubt the
secret of His success (if we raay reverently say so) as
corapared with the failure of the Philosophers. But
for all this, we raust not overlook the fact that the
teaching of Jesus Christ did constitute an intellectual
revolution ; and that this intellectual revolution was a
necessary part of His spiritual work. The destruction
of paganisra, with all the enorraous intellectual
advance which that implies, was His work, not that of
the Philosophers. It was due to Him that the world
accepted, freed from all Jewish narrowness, that
magnificent conception of the worid as a universal
order — the effect of a single cause — which the Jewish
prophets had slowly built up. Do we, again, often
enough reraeraber the earnestness which has been lent
to the pursuit of truth by the breaking down of the
gulf which in ancient thought- divided speculative
thought and religious practice, ethical theory and spcial
organization ? For that too was the work of Christ
and His Church. A tirae was to corae when ecclesi
astical influences should in practice be unfavourable
to the recpgnition of the supreme value of truth.
But that was not till Religion had ceased to be purely
religious and had become political. And after all,
even the logomachies of the post-Constantinian
Church were in their way a homage to truth. The
ancient world knew little of persecution, just because
as a rule nobody cared enough about truth to attempt
putting it into practice. And truth begins to excite
hatred and opposition only when you begin to live it

234 CHRIST AND CULTURE
out. Just because Christianity was the first great
attempt — the first great ecumenical attempt at least
— to mould the whole of life, personal and social, upon
a reasoned theory, it brought with it not peace but a
sword. And all these intellectual results of Christ's life
were not accomplished without intellectual work.
No reverent mind which acknowledges in the con
sciousness of Christ a revelation of the Supreme, not
to be placed merely on one line with those other
revelations which have prepared the way for it or
completed its development — no such mind will insist
on building up a detailed or elaborate theory as to
the relations between our Lord's human thinking and
the Divine Wisdom or Logos which revealed itself in
Him. But this at least the facts warrant us in
saying. It was not without diligent study of the
Hebrew scriptures, not without real thinking that
Jesus did his unique work as Messiah, Redeemer, Son
of God. To recognise — fully and unreservedly — the
activity of the human brain in the production of
those words which have proved the spirit and the life
of the world np mpre diminishes frpm the divineness
of the revelation which they enshrine than the
recognition of the activity of a huraan will in the
deeds which form no less real an exhibition of that
mind and character in which God is eternally
revealed. And now let us dwell upon the practical signifi
cance of this fact. One of the difficulties which
we encounter in attempting to make the life of Christ
a raodel for our own imitation is the great difference

CHRIST AND CULTURE 235
between the actual occupations of His life and what
many of us feel are, must be, ought to be, the occu
pations of ours. The public life of Jesus— the life with
which most of the Gospel narratives are occupied — •
consisted for the most part in teaching of a directly
practical, ethical, religious character, and in healing
the sick. We recognise easily enough the oppor
tunity of Christ-like life in the work of. the Pastor,
the Physician, the Hospital Nurse, the Missionary,
the Philanthropist, And perhaps, enlighteried by
such teachers as Sir John Seeley or living writers
whom I need not name, we may not even find it
difficult to discern in the work, of Charity organiza
tion, of Sanitary Committees, and other voluntary
efforts at social reform, of Poor Law Guardians and
School Boards and County Councils, when these are
pursued in the spirit of self-denying human brother
hood, opportunities for lives quite as Christ-like as
those spent in the spiritual teaching of individual souls
or the personal ministration to individual bodies. It
is more difficult to see how the intellectual life can
be Christ-like. For us whose main business here —
whatever subordinate tasks we rightly take up — is to
be students, whether for a longer or shorter time, it
may not be amiss to dwell awhile upon the fact that
the life of Jesus Christ did include rauch intellectual
activity. Christians may then freely recognise in
tellectual activity as an element in the Christian ideal
of human nature, though we must proclaim also that
even intellectual self-development must be made
subordinate to that service of the brethren in which
Christ taught us that the highest life of the individual

236 CHRIST AND CULTURE
consists. True intellectual life, like true practical life,
must, in a sense, find itself by losing itself in the life
of others.
Most emphatically must we assert against the
defenders of an anti-social ' self-realization ' that the
student and the artist are bound as much as other
men to recognise the claims upon them of their
fellow-men. Intellectual goods must be consecrated,
like other good things, by being shared with others —
in one way or another — by teaching, by professional
work, by public service or the like. The primitive
idea of sacrifice, we may remind ourselves, is not
self-annihilation, but coraraunion. I am referring
of course to the kind of intellectual work which
becomes the business of life, not the mere adorn
ment and refreshment of it. In due measure it is
undoubtedly good and right to enjoy intellectual
pleasures which have no social consequences. If a
thing is good for me to give to my neighbour, it
cannot be wrong for me in due measure to enjoy it
myself It could not for instance be lawful for me
to devote my life to writing novels which it would be
a sinful waste of time for another man to read.
Intellectual culture is an essential part of that true
well-being of humanity which Christ bid His followers
to promote — more important than mere physical
satisfaction, though inferior to its highest spiritual
and moral needs. Intellectual work must be sancti
fied and christianised, as all other work is sanctified
and christianised, by being in some way or other
turned into a branch of social service.
It is a materialistic theory of life after all which

CHRIST AND CULTURE 237
acknowledges the possibility of Christian service in
the work which ministers to bodily wants and denies
it in the work which supplies huraanity even with
such intellectual luxuries as various readings, or
occasional verse, or antiquarian theories. But in
the sphere of intellectual work, as in other spheres
of life, we raust recognise that not all services can
claim the same moral dignity. Some vocations are
higher than others. Not all men have the same
vocation. The less important tasks in the service
of raankind must be performed as well as the most
iraportant — the pleasanter tasks as well as the raore
ardupus. All spcial service is Christian. But there are
spme kinds pf intellectual wprk in which (if in spme
ways and tp spme men they demand less severity of
sacrifice than more active life) it ought to be specially
easy to recpgnise the ppssibility pf Christ-like service,
I do npt knpw that we sufficiently appreciate the
great service which the Mendicant Friars have ren
dered to the Church by their consecration of the
student's life. When we think of a Friar and a
Friar's work, we naturally think first of toilsome
preaching - journeys and sick - bed ministries, of
spiritual counsel and sympathy for sick and poor.
But this was not the only side of the Friars' work.
It was mainly to the Friars that Europe owes the
absorption of Aristotle into the thought of Christen
dom, It was the Friars who appreciated, as men
had never appreciated before, how a life of love
might be spent in diffusing knowledge — secular
knowledge no less than religious knowledge — of
which humanity had sore need. There are no

238 CHRIST AND CULTURE
doubt departments of knowledge in which, how
ever fully we may be persuaded of their ultimate
social value, a too clearly conceived and conscious
utilitarian aim would be injurious to the study.
There is political guidance to be got out of the
study of History, but the historian who conducted
his researches primarily in quest of political morals
would be a bad historian. There are practical dis
coveries to be got out of Physical Science, but it
will often be most abundant where the " fruit "
has not been sought. But there are other branches
of knowledge in which (so long only as we resist the
temptation to make truth give way to immediate
edification) the direct consciousness pf a practical
aim is eminently beneficial tp the best interests of
the Science itself And it is well, I think, that we
should distinctly realize the imperativeness of the
social demand for knowledge of certain kinds.
Never in the history of the world has it been truer
that the people perish for lack of knowledge.
Never has it been more necessary that those who
possess knowledge should become, if I may so say,
missionaries of knowledge. There is indeed a
social value in all knowledge. One of the best
things we can do for other people, whether for
individuals or for classes, is to help thera to love
and to enjoy the knowledge and the culture which
we enjoy ourselves, even without direct reference to
any more practical social end. But in two depart
ments of life, especially and more directly, we are
called upon — even the most ordinary of students,
and the least intellectual of educated men are

CHRIST AND CULTURE 239
called upon — to listen to the cry of a people perish
ing for lack of knowledge.
(i) Firstly, in the whole region of political, social,
and economic thought. Here there is eminently a
sphere for the discoverer. Economic problems want
solving which have the directest practical bearing
upon the duties of the rich and the lives of the poor ;
and patient, self-forgetful, unassuraing study of very
sraall questions will all tend in due tirae to the
solution of very big questions. And there is a still
more urgent need for the diffusion of the knowledge
that we possess. Here there is work to do for the
humblest economic student and even for people who
can hardly claim to be that. We still hear noble
lords who pose as statesmen gravely justifying
racing because it gives so much employment.
Oxford is still the happiest hunting-ground of
tramps and beggars because so raany educated men
do not know the harm they do in giving to thera,
or what they ought to do with the money that they
waste in that and other ways. And, if we take a
wider view of things, really it is no exaggeration to
say that the issue of the great democratic social
experiment upon which inevitably, as much under
Conservative governments as under Liberal govern
ments, we are now entering, depends mainly upon
the extent to which it sliall be found possible to
diffuse araong the people and their leaders sound
ideas upon great social, political, and econoraic
questions. If they believe the deraagogue who tells
thera that the "social revolution" can be accom
plished in five years, it will not be accomplished in

240 CHRIST AND CULTURE
SOO. If they hearken rather to those who say that
something like Socialism in this country might be
possible if it were not for the Socialists,* I will not
say that the dreams of the Socialists may be accom
plished, but there may be in store for this country
a future which shall as far exceed the glory of
materialist Utopias as the glory of Christ's King
dora has already exceeded the glory of the railitary
Messiahship foretold by the prophets of Israel.
It was a dream, if you like, of Plato's when he
supposed that the idea of the Good was to be reached
chiefly by the study of Pure Matheraatics, but it was
soberest reality when he pronounced that the future
well-being of huraanity depended upon the possession
of knowledge by a class who would regard it not
merely as a priceless enjoyment for themselves but
as an equipment for the highest tasks in the service
of their fellow-raen.
And there is another department of life in which
the people perish for lack of knowledge — I mean in
all that relates to the sphere of Religion. Here too
there is room alike for the profoundest thinker, for
the raost patient of students, and for the humblest
intelligent Christian who will really make the effort
to add to his faith a little knowledge. On all sides
raen's religious ideas are being shaken, changed,
transforraed by the advances of historical and critical
enquiry, and by the growth of new philosophical
ideas and new ethical ideals. There is a demand for
a great reconstruction of Christian Theology, such a
reconstruction of Christian Theology in the light of
* The remark is due to Mr, Bernard Shaw,

CHRIST AND CULTURE 241
our improved knowledge of the Universe as Thomas
Aquinas accomplished for his own day at the great
crisis when the recovered works of Aristotle repre
sented the world's richest intellectual inheritance.
The mere handful of men who are seriously engaged
in that great task want many helpers, and still more
they want raissionaries of the knowledge which they
are building up. When we turn from the cultivated
few to the great raass — let us say even of ordinary
fairly educated people, what a chaos there is in
religious belief and no-belief! Everywhere we find
Keligious belief losing its hold on the minds of men
on account of the silence of the instructed clergy, the
flimsiness of the religious ideas which are taught by
the less instructed, and the vagueness and indefinite-
ness of the only substitutes which are offered in their
place by those who have parted company, or all but
parted company, with the Christian tradition.
And we go on perpetuating this chaos by the
religious teaching which is provided at home and at
school. We go on teaching children things which we
do not believe ourselves. Or we do not teach them
anything definite at all. We subtly insinuate into
the minds of children and schoolboys our own dis
beliefs, and we do not teach them why it is that the
story of Jesus is more credible and raore important
to huraan souls than the biographies of the
Patriarchs. It would be ungrateful not to acknow
ledge the enormous services which great Head
masters like Dr. Arnold and his many followers
have rendered in the matter of religious education.
Yet even in public schools the theological chaos of the
R

242 CHRIST AND CULTURE
master — sometimes based simply upon ignorance and
want of study where it is not based upon indiffer
ence and neglect — too often reflects itself in the mere
repetition of an unbelieved tradition, or in insinua
tions which simply destroy without rebuilding, or in
a frank substitution of Syrian geography and Greek
paradigms for the religious lesson which it is his
duty to give. And if we turn to the ordinary
Sunday School, it may be doubted whether there
are twenty Sunday or eleraentary Church Schools in
the kingdom where the altered ideas of the clergy
man have introduced any appreciable change in the
received manner of teaching the Old Testament.
What wonder then if we are told that the secularistic
lecturer is invariably the ex-pupil of a Sunday
School ? What wonder if the fanatics of secular
education fail to see that the Scripture lesson,
properly conducted, may be made the most interest
ing, the most intellectually stimulating, the most
philosophical lesson of the whole week ? I do not
ignore or underrate the tremendous difficulty of this
task which lies before us, the task of popularising
the best Theology of our day ; still, it has got to be
faced, and everyone who will be a clergyman, a school
master, or even a parent must do his or her part in
facing it. But be it noticed that, difficult as some of
the questions before us may be, there are some things
so plain and so easy that every man who will take
the trouble to acquire the most elementary informa
tion, everyone who will be bold enpugh to give open
expression to ideas which are now scarcely matters
of dispute with instructed Theologians of any school.

CHRIST AND CULTURE 243
may really contribute something towards this great
end of freeing Christian belief from the unnecessary
accretions with which so many uncritical centuries
have laden it. Everyone who takes the trouble can
understand the conception of a gradual or progressive
revelation, that revelation is not confined to Judea,
that revelation is not the same as historical infalli
bility, and so on. Yet if these siraple ideas were
widely taught, half the difficulty would be gone.
For remeraber that here in enlightened Oxford there
are still people who do not see how they can believe
in Christianity at all if they do not believe that the
sun stood still or that Balaam's ass spoke. And
among thousands of the less instructed every idea
about God and Christ, about Duty here and
Immortality hereafter, is being swept away by the
pot-house ¦ dialecticians who regard the question
" Who was Cain's wife ? " as a sufficient refutation of
the claims of Christianity.
" Freely ye have received, freely give." That raust
be the maxim for every Christian student. In re
spect of intellectual wealth as of other wealth, we
want to realize more fully than we do the responsi
bilities of possession. And there is one class of
course upon whom there rests an especial measure
of this responsibility. Is it sufficiently realized
what exceptional opportunities the position of a
parochial clergyman gives for the diffusion of know
ledge — especially knowledge of these two kinds, the
political and economic knowledge which is necessary
for social salvation, and the intellectual religious
knowledge which, though it is not the unum neces-

244 CHRIST AND CULTURE
sarium, is in these days to so raany the all but
essential condition of their soul's health.' On all
sides of us the life of souls is withering because they
do not know how to use or understand the Bible
when they have given up raechanical and impossible
theories of inspiration ; how to pray without dis
believing in the laws of nature ; how to believe in
and worship and imitate Christ as the supreme
Revealer of God to us, though some of the tradi
tions about Him may seem to them raore or less
uncertain and some of the Church's formulae about
Him scarcely intelligible to men who are not
theological experts. Arnold Toynbee used to say
that two things were essential for the work of the
priest — sympathy and knowledge. Syrapathy —
sympathy of the particular kind which is needed
for such work — is a rarer and a diviner gift than
knowledge : it does not always go with knowledge.
Without some measure of it no doubt the work of
the parish priest cannot be done. But it is no sub
stitute for knowledge.
It is irapossible for us who live here in comfort and
enjoyment to reverence too highly the lives which
are led by our brethren in the crowded alleys of
large towns, where often the time and opportunity
or sometimes even the desire and capacity for know
ledge are all but wanting. But is there not a danger
lest the very severity of the ideal which these men
set before themselves may frighten away from the
Church's Ministry men of whom she has much need,
men who have intellectual needs and intellectual
interests and intellectual enthusiasms ? They would

CHRIST AND CULTURE 245
fain sacrifice much to employ thera in the service of
the Church if they were encouraged to believe that
the Church wanted them : but they do not feel that
they would be really serving God or man by com
mitting a kind of intellectual suicide. Might not
such men be raore often won for the service of the
Church if it were better understood that the clergy
man is a teacher, and that if he is to teach to any
purpose he must also be soraething of a student ?
I am not for one raoraent urging that anyone
should take holy orders who does not believe that
Christianity contains for this age as for former ages
a true revelation of God, and who does not feel a
real desire to help other people to lead Christian
lives. But the intellectual interpretation and presen
tation of Christian truth must needs keep pace with
the changing needs and the expanding knowledge of
successive ages. An unthinking acquiescence in
every detail of traditional Theology is no qualifica
tion for the Church's Ministry, nor is a lively sense
of some of the weaknesses of the ecclesiastical
temper a disqualification. In every age in which
Theology has been really alive, Theology has been
a growing Science : where there is life, there is
growth. And therefore the Church does want for
her service men who will love the truth, who will
diligently seek the truth, and will have the courage
to proclaim whatever truth may be revealed to them.
Such men are wanted even for the most practical
work among the poor. The possession of superior
knowledge, when the knowledge is placed at the
command of love, is one of the raost effective

246 CHRIST AND CULTURE
recommendations to the confidence of the best
working men. The clergymen who mpst bpldly
speak their real mind pn theplpgical and spcial
raatters are the raen whpm they trust rapst. And
after all the upper and raiddle classes have spuls tPP.
There are, tP say the least, large numbers pf them
who want to be helped to think and to believe
intelligently, and to act upon reasonable views of
social duty and of Christian faith. And they will
not be able to get that help unless thoughtful,
studious men (not of course necessarily men of
conspicuous or showy abilities) will sacrifice some
thing to come and teach them — will sacrifice careers
that are more attractive from the point of view of
ambition, of profit, and of inclination for the sake
of Christ and His Church. Men are not generally
brought to Christ by argument or intellectual en
lightenment, but they are very often raost grievously
kept back from Him by the want of intellectual
light. Unless the teaching side of the priestly office
be duly recognised, as well as its yet higher functions
of sympathy and inspiration and practical service;
the Church will never claira the undivided allegiance
of her members. Their sympathies will be Christian,
but not their intellects. And if the soul is not wholly
Christian, the life will not be wholly Christian either.
"Jesus increased in wisdom." The Church must
increase in wisdom likewise, if it is to be in very
deed the body of which He is head.

XV.
THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
Preached before the University of Oxford, at St. Mar/s,
1897.
"The church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth."
I Tim. iii. 15.
THE theological controversies about the Church
have centred round the question whether the
true Church of Christ is visible or invisible. If the
question be put broadly and nakedly, there cannot be
much dpubt pr difficulty abput pur answer tp it. If the
Church means merely a number of individual persons
predestined to everlasting salvation, living isolated,
unrecognised, and unrecognisable by one another
in the midst of a society whose organization takes
no account of this unascertainable merabership —
such a conception of the Church destroys the very
nature of a human society. A mere collection is
not a society, even where it consists of known .
individuals. It destroys the essence, as Aristotle
or St. Paul might say, of a Koivwvia ; or if we like
to express ourselves in the fashionable but somewhat
misleading cant of the hour, we might say that a
society must be an organism, and a number of
247

248 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
human beings can hardly form an organism when
their action and interaction, their common work
and their common life, is of a kind which is in
accessible to human observation. An invisible
Church is a contradiction in terras. Equally un
tenable is such a theory if we turn from the idea
of the spciety tP the end which it is tP serve.
Whatever else we may doubt about the Church,
it will hardly be disputed that it is a society which
has a mission here on earth to fight against that
merely natural, unspiritual element in human society
which is called in the New Testament "the world."
Is there anything that the world would rejoice at
more heartily — is there anything that wpuld serve its
purppses better than that the Church pf Christ should
be as unorganized, as inconspicuous, as invisible as
possible? An invisible Church wpuld be an impptent
Church. But if we reject the thepry pf an invisible Church,
dp we necessarily admit that the treraendpus things
that are said pf the Church, whether by pur Lprd
Himself or by the Apostles and early fathers, can
really be applied to the actual, visible, tangible
spciety which history speaks of as the Church, or
to any or all of the bodies which it speaks of as
Churches or as sects ? Is it true that admission into
this body by water is as necessary to inheritance
of the Kingdom of Heaven as the Baptisra by the
Spirit? Can anyone seriously contend that any
particular Church or all the Churches together have
always taught the truth and never taught anything
but the truth, or that all the bindings and loosings of

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 249
every tumultuous Synod or worldly Bishop have been
or will be ratified in heaven? Surely it is scarcely
possible for any reflecting person to say 'Yes' to such
questions, and yet that is what we must do if we
are to identify the Church of Christ's promises and
of early Christian theory with any actual, visible,
organized human society.
Let us dwell on this difficulty with reference to
two of the main ideas connected with the Church —
its duty in the matter of doctrine, and its powers of
discipline. (i) First then its function as to doctrine. The
Church, we are told, is " the pillar * and ground
of the truth." Certainly it is part pf St. Paul's
conception of the Church that it should be the de
pository, the teacher, the interpreter of spiritual
truth. Certainly there are promises of Christ's
continual presence and guidance made historically
to His actual disciples, but which we can hardly be
wrong in applying in some sense to the Church of
all tirae. It is difficult, indeed, to see what con
ception of the Church would not include in itself
the idea at least of teaching and preserving, if not
of interpreting and developing, the faith which
Christ committed to His disciples. Are we then
to say that the historic Church has not erred?
Surely such an assertion could only be made out
by reducing the idea of a Church to a mere
tautology. If we say that the Church is the body
which teaches the truth, no doubt we may hold
that the Church has not erred. But then that
implies that we know from some other source what

250 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
is the truth, and renders nugatory the attempt to
raake the judgment of the Church the criterion
of truth or error. Moreover, the whole conception
of infallibility, if it is applied to the actual concrete
determinations of synods and councils, implies a
reliance upon mere majorities which seems utterly
inconsistent with any spiritual or worthy view of
the Holy Spirit's working. If we say that the
Monpphysites must have been wrong because they
were outvoted, what becomes of the Western revolt
against the Eastern majority or of our own resist
ance to the decrees of Trent?
(2) And then if we turn to that other great function
of the Church, the power of binding and loosing,
that is, the power of defining, fixing, interpreting,
applying, the moral ideal, are we to say that the
actual historic Church (define it what way you
will)— are we to say that any particular, historical,
visible society upon earth has never actually called
good evil and evil good? Here surely (what
ever raay be the case with doctrine) we cannot
limit the voice of the Church to the decision
of ecumenical or of any other . Councils, for conciliar
decisions have not, until very modern times, dealt
much with raorality as distinct from doctrine. And
if we look to the actual teaching of the living,
working Church at any one time, can we say that
the Church has ever held up to the world a perfectly
pure representation, a perfectly legitimate develop
raent of the teaching of her Founder? Does not
every reasonable historian of the Church— no matter
what his theological position — admit more or less

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 251
emphatically that the Church of one age preached
celibacy to the disparagement of Christian marriage,
that the Church of another age or of the same
exaggerated asceticism at the expense of ordinary
morality, and monastic contemplation at the expense
of patriotic and private duty ; while those who would
have most sympathy with these tendencies would
agree neither with what would seem to them the
worldly laxity of the Protestant Churches nor with
the casuistical laxity of post-Reformation Romanism?
Or if we turn from general moral principles to their
particular application — from the binding or loosing of
acts to the binding or loosing of persons — who will
maintain either that all excommunications have been
just, or that excomraunications which are not just
are ratified in heaven?
What are we to say then to these antinoraies?
The Church must be visible or it is no Church.
And yet if it is visible, we cannot find in actual
history or actual life the Church which corresponds
to Christ's prPmises. Is it npt clear that in all
the New Testament teaching abPut the Church of
Christ we are presented with an ideal — an ideal
of what Christ's Society was meant to be; an
ideal which she is meant to realize, which to
some extent every community of Christians has
realized, but which no Church of any one time or
place — no, nor the whole Church of all times and
places, has ever actually attained ? Just in so far as
the Church has answered to her ideal, so far can she
claim that the tremendous things that are spoken of
the ideal Church are true of her. Just in so far as

252 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
she has fallen from her ideal, these things cease to
be true of her ; just so far the Church ceases to be
the Church at all.*
Do you say that if we reduce this conception of
the Church to an ideal, we deprive it of its value ?
Yes, certainly, if what you want is a mechanical and
unspiritual test of spiritual truth and spiritual life,
then the conception of the Church as an ideal does
become useless. If what Christ says of the Church
is wholly and absolutely true only of the ideal
* For a full examination of the New Testament doctrine as to the
Church see Dr. Hort's The Christian Ecclesia (1897), the result of
which seems in the main to support the view here taken. Among
earlier writers who have maintained the ideality of the Church I may
mention Myers, Catholic Thoughts on the Church of Christ and the
Church of England, and Mr. Llewelyn Davies in many published
writings. It is partially recognised by Prof. Stanton : " I would premise
that there will be before us an ideal which is far from being anywhere
fully, and which has never been more than approximately, realized.
Yet there may be, and I believe are, broad distinctions in the extent
to which different communities of Christians depart from it, such as
will justify the view that some are portions of the Church and others
are not." (The Place of Authority in Religious Belief, p. 195.) I could
accept the last clause if it is meant to apply to the community in which
Christian love is wholly extinct, not if it is meant to apply to com
munities which are irregular about orders and sacraments. It is inter
esting to find John Henry Newman (as an Anglican) saying, "Anyone
who maintains that the Church is all that Christ intended her to be
has the analogy of Theism fiill against him." (Lectures on the Pro
phetical Office of the Church, 1837, Lect. viii. p. 235.) He goes on
to contend that since the Church is not now one, it is not infallible
("since the one has become in one sense many, the full prophetical
idea is not now fulfilled." Ib. p. 239). Those who believe that even
a united Church would not be infallible should be still more ready to
admit that the division of Christendom into many sects, episcopal or
non-episcopal, prevents any one of them claiming to be all that an ideal
Church might be. The ideal Church would be, in the language of
St. Augustine, a " Congregatio societasque hominum in qua fraterna
charitas operetur.'' (De fide et syvib. 21.)

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 253
Church, then you cannot use the Apostolical suc
cession as an absolute criterion of the difference
between a true Church and a false, or the decisions
of conciliar majorities as an infallible test of divine
truth, or the reception of the Holy Eucharist from
a duly authorised person as an absolute test of
present grace, pr the sentence pf a Bprgia Pppe or
a fanatical Council as the test of a man's spiritual
position in the sight of God. If this is what you
want (and I do not suppose that at the present day
any reflecting person does want so to apply his
theory of the Church), then I admit that the doctrine
of the Church's ideality is fatal to her practical value.
Anyone who would take such a view would be
capable no doubt of holding that an ideal is of no
use because it is " only " an ideal. But, if in the
raoral and even in the political sphere, ideals are the
" fountain light of all our day," why should it not be
so in the ecclesiastical sphere also? If the indi
vidual's raoral and spiritual life is raade what it is
by the pursuit of an ideal which can never be fully
realized, why should the high and magnificent ideal
which Christ's vision of His kingdom sets up before
the Christian Society fail to be the very life of actual
Christian coraraunities, though no one of them at
any given time and place nor all of them together
can be absolutely identified with that holy city, the
New Jerusalem, which the Seer of Patmos saw
" coming down from God out of heaven prepared as
a bride adorned for her husband ? "
And now let us see how this principle — that the
Church is ideal — helps us in our attitude towards the

254 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
many cpntrpversies which have raged and still rage
rpund this great questipn pf the Church.
(i) Firstly then, there is the question of the Church's
Unity. Certainly if we have any adequate concep
tion of the Church as the organized army of God
enlisted in a great crusade against the powers of
evil, in the great enterprise pf setting up Christ's
kingdom among men, we raust say that Unity
belongs to the very essence of the Church — yes,
outward, visible, organized Unity. That is the ideal,
and an ideal which, like other ideals, we should
certainly seek to make real. But when the Church
is actually divided, we have no right to say that
this body which has seceded from the Church is
a mere Schism, while that body which has been
seceded from is the true Church of Christ. Schism
— schism among persons in whom there is anything
left of the Christian character — is pro tanto injurious
to the full realization of the Church idea, alike in the
body that forsakes the communion of their fathers
and in the body that is seceded from. Sometimes
the balance of blame may be on one side, sometimes
on the other, sometimes on neither, except so far as
mere ignorance and error and misunderstanding are
objects of blame. Schism is always an evil, but
sometimes it is a duty. It is a sin only in so far
as it is wilful and unnecessary. Still, however the
schism originated, it is always right to make for
reunion, though not for reunion at all costs. Unity
is a note of the true Church, but it is not the only
note. If the Church is not infallible, there may
sometimes be evils worse than schism. And re-

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 255
member that just as schism is a question of degree
(there may be raore or less of the schismatic
character about the acts of individuals or of bodies),
so unity is a question of degree also. Ideal unity
could certainly involve what is sometimes called
corporate reunion ; but, where corporate reunion is
not possible except at a price too heavy to pay,
then the more unity the better. Under present
circumstances, while we certainly ought not to lose
sight of the ideal of organized, formal, canonical
unity, more unity may really be obtainable by in
creased intercourse, recognition, and co-operation
among the forraally divided fragments of Christ's
Church — especially upon great moral and social
questions — than by active proselytism or premature
and one-sided schemes of formal amalgaraation.*
(2) There is the question of the Church's office in
the matter of doctrine. If we recognise the ideality
of the true Church, we can attribute authority to
the Church without attributing to her infallibility.
The authority of the Church in the matter of
doctrine means the authority of the Christian con
sciousness. It belongs to the mission and ideal of
the Church to be the organized expression of this
• Even Newman could admit that any assembly of two or three
Christians had in it something of the true Church character: "The
meeting of two or three private men in Christ's name is one kind of
fiilfilment, and in default of higher opportunities, may be attended
with a portion of divine blessing," while the highest "measures of
truth," "amounting to a continual infallibility, were it ever intended,
might require the presence of a superhuman charity and peace" [not
merely apostolical succession, &c.], " which has never been witnessed
since the disciples ' continued steadfastly in the Apostles' doctrine and
fellowship,'" &c. (/. c. pp. 240, 241.)

256 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
consciousness : the raore fully she does so, the raore
the Church becomes all that Christ meant His Church
to be. But let us remeraber that, though the Spirit
of God works in the Christian community, and
though in due time the work of the Holy Spirit
in the consciousness of the comraunity finds ex
pression in formal ecclesiastical changes, that work
begins in the heart and intellect of- individual
persons. Even the Homo-ousion was the formula
of a local Church before it was adopted by the
Catholic Church at Nicaea, and it must have been
the suggestion of an individual brain before it was
received by the local Church of Palestine. And,
when it was first suggested, it is likely enough that
it was treated as the rash and heretical speculation
of an audacious and unspiritual thinker. It is by
the action of the Church, organized and formal or
unorganized and informal, that the advances of
Christian thought, the continual and progressive
revelations which the Spirit makes to the Christian
consciousness — pass from the individual soul into
an abiding possession of the Christian comraunity.
The more the organized, visible Church answers to
her ideal, the more fully she performs this function :
it is only the authority of the Church that can
convert the ideas of private Theologians into the
faith of a Society.
And (3) all that I have said of doctrine is
equally applicable to Christian morality. We should
have truer ideas of the nature of Church authority, if
^e thought of it more frequently in connexion with
morality than in connexion with doctrine. There is,

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 257
indeed, a place for authority even in the matter of
doctrine. Clearly, if there were no place for authority
in Christian doctrine, the great mass of non-specula
tive persons could not be Christians at all. There
could be no such thing as Christian education, and it
is clear that without Christian education Christianity
could be only a phase of individual opinion : it could
riever be a Religion. And the same must be true of
every kind of religious or of irreligious belief — even
the most negative. Not to teach children that there
is a God and something which we call Duty, is for
all practical purposes to teach them that there is no
God and no such thing as Duty. Silence is a more
effective teacher of negation than denial, for denial
must at least convey a knowledge of the propositions
denied. Whether children believe or disbelieve, their
creed will be equally, in the first instance, based upon
authority. And, however high you raay place the duty
of subsequent enquiry and private judgraent, it is
obvious that the vast raajority of raen will alike on
matters of Religion and of Morality, and even of Science
or History, believe what they think is believed by the
people whom they raay think are likely to know. It
is an exaggeration (with Mr. Balfour*) to treat all
belief on authority as wholly non-rational. Not only
may the choice of authority rest upon a rational
process, but the believers may have very good reasons
for the actual substance of what they believe. Only
those reasons are theraselves suggested by authority.
It is due to the action of some form of social
influence — whether it be from parent or teacher, from
* In The FoundcUions of Belief.
S

258 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
University Professor or frora the diffused consensus of
what the man takes to be the body of religious people
or of sensible people — that the man knows of these
reasons, and estimates them highly, while the reasons
for any alternative belief he does not know of, or has
heard mentioned in such a way that he has never
fairly weighed their claims against those which came
to him commended by the larger weight of authority.
This is true of the beliefs of the great majority in
matters of Science and Religion, but it is still more
completely true of moral beliefs. If we were asked
to say why the average modern Englishman condemns
a hpst pf practices in which the cultivated Greek saw
no harm, and approves conduct which he would have
regarded as weak, sentimental, and irrational, the
answer is briefly, "Because the Christian Church —
summing up in its. judgments the fruits of whole
centuries of moral thought and experience, and
especially of the unique impetus given to moral
progress by the work and teaching of Jesus the
Christ — long ago bound one set of practices and
loosed the other : and the Church of to-day, while in
some points it has amended or supplemented the
judgraents of the past, still in the main, on these
fundamental matters, ratifies and confirms these past
judgments of the Church." That is the main reason
why the average man of to-day condemns suicide,
abortion, infanticide, and the like, as well as the more
recently condemned practices of slavery and religious
persecution ; and that is why he approves on the
whole in others, even when he does not practise it
himself, self-denying charity towards the weak and
the poor and the outcast.

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 259
No doubt it will be said that the conscience of the
raodern world approves or conderans these things.
Quite true. It does so with greater or less vigour and
independence — ranging frora the merest external
acquiescence to the most passionate conviction. But
then this conscience of the individual is itself moulded
by the society in which he lives; if his conscience is
really Christian in its judgments, by the Christian
society in which he has moved. In some cases his
acceptance of the authoritative raoral creed may be
skin-deep, as appears when he takes service under a
Chartered Corap&ny, and finding himself among a
society of ruffians throws off the yoke of Christian
civilization, and submits his private judgment to the
raoral code prevalent among ruffians. At other times
the moral conviction is passionate and deep enough,
but it is not the result of an unbiassed thinking out of
the moral problems, even by a Moral Reason itself
raoulded by centuries of Christianity. That is a thing
few of us ever attempt to do, and it is well that we do
not. For the task is utterly impossible. It would
be scarcely possible to discriminate fully between
the part of one's ethical judgments which is due to
reverence for authority, and the part which is due to
the independent workings of one's own Reason ; and
who would trust himself to make the attempt? In
speculative matters, though we all start from authority,
though we never wholly escape from its influence
(the influence of fashion is as plainly discernible in
Philosophy as it is in the cut of a coat or the shape
of a hat), yet we do partially escape from it, and it
should be the effort of all good education ultimately

26o THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
tp enable us tP fprm our own judgments at least up
to the point to which the individual's capacity and
information qualify him to do so. But in moral
matters, when the judgment is to such a large extent
the expression of character, then the wise man will
hesitate much more and much longer, before he sets
up his private judgment against a consensus of good
men. Of course, in pronouncing them good men he
is exercising his own moral judgment. The choice of
the authority, whenever it is not unconscious, is always
an act of private judgment. And moral education
consists very largely in emancipating the individual
from the dominion of authority accepted or imposed
by mere chance or external circumstance and en
abling him to choose his authority on truly ethical
grounds. No doubt it is the aim of all moral
education to enable the raan ultiraately to form
independent ethical judgments of his own, but that
very power is acquired through a process of habitua
tion which itself involves a continual warping and
contracting of the moral judgment. We may choose
our authority, as the painter chooses the school in
which he studies art. It is no more possible to remain
impartial in the choice between good and evil after a
long course of imitation of good men and familiarity
with good ideas than it is to remain impartial between
beauty and ugliness after an artist's long study of
great masters. And yet without that education the
man wpuld never have learned tp judge at all. The
original step that we took in submitting ourselves —
however provisionally and with whatever reserves —
to a moral master whom we took to be good, will

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 261
infallibly have lessened the freedom of all future acts
of choice.
In the field of morals therefore the influence of
authority, and in particular of the authority of the
Church, is far raore directly and raore demonstrably
inevitable, unavoidable, and salutary than it is in
the sphere of doctrine or other intellectual raatters.
It is no doubt desirable to cultivate the habit of
forming raoral judgraents for ourselves and of acting
upon them. But in the vast majority of cases these
independent judgments will still be visibly charged
— in their actual matter or content — with the influence
of the society in which we have lived ; and when the
individual does take one of thpse great fprward steps
in which he cpnderans thpse things in which even his
best cpntemporaries have seen no harm, or hears a
new categorical imperative where they have heard it
not, in that very act he is very often showing most
conspicuously and most triumphantly the success of
the moral education which had moulded that sen
sitive cpnscience pf his. When the brave monk
Telemachus leapt down into the arena and pro-
clairaed at the cost of his life the cessation of
gladiatorial corabats in the now Christian Erapire,
that was the triuraph not of an individual conscience
at war with its environment, but the triumph of the
collective consciousness of the Christian Church
which spoke in him. Only because the best part
of the Christian society had already condemned the
combats, and because the very men who stoned him
were secretly conscious that the thing was wrong, did
that one man's act of individual loyalty to Christ

262 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
and truth close that shameful chapter in the annals
of humanity.
I have been trying to show how undeniable a thing
has been this influence of the Christian Church in
the sphere of Morals. Binding and loosing is, always
has been, and always will be of the essence of the
Church's work. But all the same, it is just in the
case of morals that the Christian Church — interpret
it how you will ; any local or other section of the
Church or the whole Christian Church of any one
time put together — is most evidently not infallible.
By attending exclusively to the formulae used and
not to the meaning which is put upon them, and by
excluding from your conception of the Church the
worsted minorities, it is just possible to represent
the Church as infallible in the matter of doctrine.
Unless we arbitrarily limit our ideas of the Church's
authoritative teaching to the decisions of Councils,
and thereby evacuate that idea of all present mean
ing, no student of ecclesiastical history can seriously
contend that the Church's practical teaching on
ethical questions has been always the same or
always right. Put as high as you like (and I should
be disposed to put very high indeed) the distinction
between all Christian ethics and all ethical teaching
that has been entirely uninfluenced by Christianity,
yet it is surely impossible to maintain that the ideal
of the " Imitatio Christi " is the same as the ideal
say of that typical product of eighteenth-century"
Anglicanism, " The Whole Duty of Man." On par
ticular and detailed questions of Ethics, on the host
of questions connected with marriage and family

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 263
relations, as to the lawfulness of War, as to the
Christian's attitude to the State, to the theatre, to
all manner of worldly pleasures and enjoyments, as
to the right eraployraent of property and the right
treatment of the poor, as to the duty and the liraits
of Veracity, the attitude of the Church or of the
Christian consciousness has differed frequently and
widely. Now whenever authority does not amount
to infallibility, it is clear that the admission of error
carries with it the right of rebellion. Any theory of
State authority which is now held by educated men —
however high it places that authority and the duty
of submission to the State — admits that that authority
and that duty have limits. The very same considera
tions which compel submission in all ordinary cases,
compel and require rebellion in the exceptional case.
The higher, the raore sacred the institution of the
State, the more imperative the duty of obedience in
ordinary cases, so much the raore undeniable and the
more solemn becomes the obligation of rebellion in
the exceptional case. The State, like the Church, is
a more or less imperfect embodiment of an Ideal.
In the vast majority of cases we best show our
reverence for that ideal, and help forward its realiza
tion by submission to the actual State with all its
failings and shortcomings. The higher our ideal, the
greater should be our reverence for the poor, halting,
clumsy, corrupt, sometimes ridiculous efforts of actual
communities to embody this ideal in living, concrete
human organization.
But all the same this very reverence for the Ideal
will now and again compel the good citizen to rebel

264 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
against the actual State, when the contrast between
the actual State and such an approximation of the
Ideal as seems practicable under given circumstances
reaches a certain intensity, though the protest raay
vary from passive resistance to armed rebellion.
Is it not time that we should apply a similar
attitude towards the Church and the Churches?
Would it not supply us with more intelligible, more
natural solutions of many practical problems? We
could reverence Unity, we could recognise the value
of Episcopacy, without proclaiming it a duty in
Spain to acquiesce in the superstitions and the
falsehoods which we think it right to denounce
and repudiate in England. We could recognise
the Church of England as the best and raost satis
factory representative for us of the true Church of
Christ in this land without denying the right of the
Church in Scotland to organize herself on a non-
episcopal basis. We can do our utmost tp prpmpte
visible Unity in England withput denying that Npn-
cpnfprmist bodies may still be attempts — more or
less successful — to realize the true Church idea, and
their Ministries as more or less successful attempts
to embody the true ideal of Priesthood. We can
recognise the absolute necessity of a teaching
Church — of Chui-ch doctrine, of formulae or dogma —
without claiming finality for any actual deliverance
either of the whole Church or of any branch of it,
or denying the right of the Christian consciousness,
and therefore, in the first instance, of the individual
to be faithful to the teaching of Science, of Criticism,
of History, of enlarged and developed spiritual ex-

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 265
perience. Finally and raost iraportant of all, it
would teach us to make more of the Christian
Church in its relation to practical morality — to
realize raore alike our debt tp the Church and Pur
pbligatipns tP her — withput any surrender of the
right and duty of loyalty to the voice of conscience
within us. There can be no progress unless human
society is so organized as to mould and shape the
character and conduct of individuals, so that the
new moral conquests so to speak of the best men
are in time registered and embodied in a social law.
Equally little can there be any moral progress unless
individual men will have the courage to go beyond
the established conventional morality of their society
in their judgments and in their conduct. Ultimately
it is the moral consciousness of individuals that
creates moral progress in the society.
I have left myself little time to dwell on the
practical outcome of these principles in their bear
ing upon the conduct of the individual life : yet
they have most important practical lessons. To
some I know that any exaltation of authority in
the sphere of practice may seem positively immoral.
The doctrine of authority may of course be abused
or exaggerated ; it is exaggerated fpr instance when
a writer, little enpugh inclined to attach import
ance to the judgment of the Christian Church, pro
nounces that to wish to be better than the world is
to be already on the threshold of immorality.* It
is the authority of the best men, not of the majority
or of the average raan, that I have tried to extol, the
* Bradley, Ethical Studies, p. i8o.

266 THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH
authority of the best raen interpreting and develop
ing the authority which their consciences have owned
in Christ. And yet after all, is not the root of the
low standard of feeling and conduct on practical
raatters with which so raany raen are content, trace
able precisely to this — that they trust too much to
their consciences ? Their religion consists, they will
tell you, simply in this — in not doing what their
conscience (conscience unsolicited, untrained, unen
lightened) tells them to be wrong. That is what
they understand by doing their duty. The duty of
educating, enlightening, informing the conscience, is
one which they do not recognise at all. They come
up to their ideal more often perhaps than better raen ;
it is precisely their ideal that is at fault. It never
occurs tp thera to corapare and test their ideal by
higher ideals ; to strive and struggle after a higher
ideal ; to subrait themselves to all those influences
by which men's ideals are elevated and their con
sciences made more sensitive. They do not recognise
that to such a very large extent they are entrusted
with the making of their own consciences ; and yet
they cannot make them aright without the help of
higher influences outside themselves, and pre
eminently the influence of Christ and His Church.
They fail to recognise that their consciences are day
by day being moulded and fashioned — enlightened
and quickened, or blunted and numbed — by the
atraosphere which they voluntarily breathe, by the
prayers that they say or leave unsaid, by the self-
examination that they practise or omit, by the com
pany they keep, by the worship and the Communions

THE IDEA OF THE CHURCH 267
which they attend or neglect, by the books which they
read, by the amusements in which they indulge, by
the use which they raake or neglect to make of the
opportunities of their life. In a word, what they
neglect is the education of Conscience; and yet it
is as absurd to expect a noble life to result even
from a tolerably faithful submission to the demands
of an uneducated conscience as it is to suppose that
we shall attain knowledge and culture by simply not
wilfully setting ourselves against the claims of truth
or of beauty when they happen to fall in our way,
without raaking any effort to seek for them, and to
find them.
All true education, in a sense, must be self-educa
tion ; and yet it is equally true to say that all
education is social. Church and State alike we
ought more and raore to look upon in the light of
great educational institutions, in which we must seek
to educate both ourselves and others, — as the two
great organizations of the One Human Society
whose highest end it is to realize the ideal which
Christ called the Kingdom of Heaven.*
* It is a remarkable fact that the only instance which has reached the
English press of an oflScer facing professional ruin and social obloquy
by refusing to fight a duel was not a Protestant or secularistic champion
of the rights of conscience, but a Roman Catholic, whose reverence for
the Church had taught him to believe in the existence of a standard
of conduct higher than the conventional practice of his class.

XVI.
PERSONALITY IN GOD AND MAN
Myrtle Lecture in the University of Aberdeen,
February 16, 1898.
EVERY student of ancient Philosophy is familiar
with the difficulty and embarrassment mani
fested by the Greeks whenever they want to speak
about the will. The Classical Greek writers have
simply no word for expressing it, still less have they
a word which will enable them to affirm or deny the
existence of what the moderns call Freewill, The word
avTeiovtrla (used in this sense) is one which we owe to
those strenuous assertors of freedora, the philosophi
cally educated Greek Fathers, And a disposition to
eliminate, to minimise, or to explain away this
element in human nature has descended to some
of the modern thinkers who owe the best that is in
thera .to Plato and Aristotle. They atterapt to
analyse away the will into thought, or a corabinatlon
of thought and feeling, just as their opponents, the
empiricists, try to explain it away into feeling. For
the purpose which I have in view it is hardly
necessary to discuss the difficult psychological
question whether or in what sense the will is a
separate faculty, still less to enter for a single
moment upon the old controversy over Freewill
which is likely for an indefinite time, if not for ever,
268

PERSONALITY IN GOD AND MAN 269
to distract and to fascinate every mind that is
capable of the fierce delights of serious thinking.
Those who, from the intellectualist point of view,
deny that volition, or conation, is something distinct
from desire taken in connection with Reason, have
to adrait that when we desire a thing without taking
raeasures to obtain it, we do not desire it in the same
sense in which we do when the desire leads to
action. This desire that results in action is just
what ordinary people call will. On the other hand,
those who identify will with feeling can hardly
decline, if pressed, to admit that there is an im
portant distinction between feelings which inspire
action and those which do not.
There is perhaps no direction in which sorae of
the raost recent Metaphysic shows a raore decided
advance than in its more definite insistence upon
volition as one of the three inseparable functions of
the human soul. " Whenever we are awake, we are
thinking; whenever we are awake, we are willing,"
says Mr, Bosanquet, He naturally thought it un
necessary to add (though perhaps this undenied fact
is not always remembered in some quarters) "when
ever we are awake, we are feeling." * No doubt it is
important to insist that these three activities imply
one another, that none of them would be intelligible
without the others. I will not ask whether in the
lowest creatures there can be such a thing as feeling
without thought; but in the adult huraan being, at all
events, there is no such thing as feeling without
• Mr. Bradley's Appearance a-nd Reality is still more decided on
this point, however different the inferences which he draws as to the
ultimate nature of reality from that which I should draw myself.

270 PERSONALITY
thought. We at least do not feel without knowing
that we feel. Moreover, an unrelated feeling is
something which we never experience. , Our feelings
come to us before or after other feelings, and we
know that they have this relation of priority or
posteriority to one another ; we do not feel a pain
without knowing when and where we feel it, or
without being able to assign to it a more or less
definite degree. Equally impossible is the attempt
to get at a raoment of consciousness which is pure
thinking. All our thoughts are inseparably bound
up with feeling, or the content of feeling. I will
not dwell upon the fact (for it does not directly
concern us here) that our thoughts, when they are
thoughts of something actual and not of mere
abstractions, are always thoughts of something which
could under certain circumstances be felt, or else
of soraething that could feel. But at least it is
undeniable that the act of thinking is itself accom
panied by all manner of feelings. Nobody is capable
of such intellectual concentration as to be at any
given raoraent all thought. The thinking being is
always conscious of being hot or cold, conscious of a
mass of feelings — of sight, of touch, and the like
at every moment of his thought. Some of these
feelings are so inseparable from the act of thinking
that the beginner in such subjects finds it difficult to
realize that the tension of the nerves, which when
continued developes into a headache, is not really
the thought itself and does not warrant his speaking
of his mind as actually occupying a certain amount
of space inside his head.

IN GOD AND MAN 271
Still raore vain is the attempt to isolate volition
from either thought or feeling. We do not will
without knowing what we will, and the imagined
object which we seek to realize could not affect us
unless it appealed to some kind of desire in- us, and
desire, though it may and must be more than
feeling, is feeling. Not only have we no actual
experience of either thought or feeling or volition
in isolation frora the other two, but none of thera can
be made intelligible to us apart from the other two.
Each of thera by itself is a mere abstraction. We
have no reason to believe that a wholly thinking
being, a wholly feeling, or a wholly willing being
is possible. Even in the creatures below us there
may, we might conjecture, be soraething faintly
analogous to the thinking element ; while the lowest
appetite in the lowest sentient being seems to
contain in it an element of conscious impulse
which is not a raere feeling or mere thought. There
may be beings above us in whom feeling and volition
may be something so different from what we under
stand by the words, that we can only apply those
terms to them as mere analogies or symbols of some
higher reality, but then, if that be so with their feel
ings and their volitions, it must be equally so with
their thoughts. To take one simple illustration of
this: attention is an act of the will, and thought
cannot exist without attention. Thought which
went on without attention would be something very
different from thought as we know it. To us thought
without will is as meaningless an abstraction as the
" unconscious will " of another school.

272 PERSONALITY
But I raust check rayself from straying further
into these interesting problems of Psychology and
Metaphysic. I hope that I have said nothing which
will be unintelligible even to those (if there be such
persons in an academic audience north of the Tweed)
who are without an eleraentary knowledge or a rudi
mentary love for Philosophy. I want to go on to
apply these truths — so simple that they are seldom
explicitly denied, though they are often ignored — to
certain questions of Theology and then to certain
very practical questions of Religion. We have seen
that it belongs to the very nature of mind to be
active. In raind as we know it volition is as essential
an element as thought or feeling. And if this is true
of mind as we know it in raan, must it not be true
also of mind as we believe it to exist in God ?
I raust not here attempt to reproduce the argu
ments which lead us to think of the ultimate principle
or ground or cause of all things in terras of Mind.
I will only say that I believe the philosophical argu
ments for Theism are but a thinking out with greater
thoroughness and explicitness of the reasons which
actually lead the religious consciousness of the plain
man up tP Theism, pr which satisfy his reflecting
years pf the truth pf a creed which he has accepted
pn authprity in childhppd. When the plain man says,
"The world could not have raade itself: there must
have been somebody to raake it," he is only epitomis
ing the Philosopher's argument that the demand of
reason for a cause can only be satisfied by a rational
will — that the only true cause is a final cause, and
that final causes can only becorae efficient causes

IN GOD AND MAN 273
in a conscious being who unites in himself power and
knowledge — in other words in a rational will. So
again the plain man says there must be a God
because he vaguely feels the superiority of raind
to raatter, and the improbability or incredibility
of the production of the higher by the lower, of the
developraent of raind in a mindless Universe. When
that line of thought is worked out by a Metaphysician,
it developes into the Idealist argument that matter
is inconceivable, unintelligible, raeaningless, apart
frora raind. But I raust not stay to follow up these
lines of thought. What I want to plead for is this —
that, if you determine to interpret the Universe in
terras of raind, you should do it thoroughly. Mind,
as we know it, includes will and feeling as well as
thought. You have no right, therefore, to think of
God only as thought without thinking of Hira also as
feeling and as willing.
From the intellectual point of view, this Aristo
telian idea of God as pure thought is based upon the
apotheosis of an abstraction, and it is, I contend,
a conception of God which, if thoroughly realized,
would satisfy no religious or moral need of the
human soul. For you must remember that this
God of the Hegelians, or (I will say) of some
Hegelians, is not in any sense the cause of the
Universe. If that is not made quite clear by the
Master, from whose volurainous writings you could
no doubt quote passages which seem to afford some
sanction for the idea of creation, no doubt is left
about it in the writings of his disciples. Their
Deity at least does not make or cause the world
T

274 PERSONALITY
to be what it is. He merely knows it to be what
it is; he only causes the world in the sense in
which you or I may be said from the Idealist point
of view to "make nature" — that is to say in the
sense that an object cannot exist without a subject
to know it — except that he knows the whole and
we know only fragmentary portions of it.
When we think of all the pain and the sorrow, the
sin and the disappointment and the misery of life,
perhaps we may be tempted to imagine that we are
better off than such a Deity for seeing but the utter
most part of thi^ spectacle of pain. For we can at
least sympathise with the sorrow that we cannot cure,
while the heartless Deity of the Hegelians can only
regard it as an interesting object of intellectual
contemplation. And we can do something — each
of us can do something, and by union with our
fellow-men we can do much — to fight against all this
evil, whereas a Deity who only thinks can do nothing
at all. It is true that if we knew the whole, we
might be enabled to see all things working together
for a final, goal of good. With personal immortality
that is a possible conception, but then Hegelianism
rarely adraits, and hardly ever insists upon, the
idea of personal Immortality. And surely without
Immortality for raan, such a Deity, if he were cap
able of the sympathy and the love which Christianity
has taught us to attribute to God, would (if I may
say so without irreverence) spend his life in lamenta
tion at the imperfections of the Universe to which he
finds himself annexed as by some inevitable, eternal,
unintelligible fate. For such a Universe might have

IN GOD AND MAN 275
a meanihg " on the whole," but what of those whose
short life ends in misery, failure, and sin? If the
Hegelian Deity were capable of sympathy, surely
he raust sorrow with these. I have said he would
spend his life : but I had forgotten that the Hegelian
Deity is out of tirae altogether. And that rerainds
me that after all, in attributing to this timeless being
even this one function of thought, I am attributing
to him more than would be done by some of his
worshippers. For, though they are clear that God is
thought, they will not always allow us to say that he
thinks. There have been eminent Philosophers of
this School — men of whom I would speak with
the profoundest respect, men to whom British
Philosophy owes an incalculable debt — who certainly
have believed in a God who is self-conscious ; but
I know also not undistinguished disciples of theirs
who believe themselves to be in substantial harraony
with the teaching of their Masters and who yet
ridicule the idea that the Philosopher's God can have
anything in comraon with the God of Christianity.
For such men God may be thought, but he is not
a thinker: he raay be thought, but he comes to a
consciousness of himself — he "finds himself," as the
phrase is — only in the consciousness of individual
mortal men. There must be something wrong
surely with a Philosophy when it provides a phrase
ology which can be used equally and indiscriminately
by those who adopt absolutely contradictory answers
to the most momentous question which can possibly
divide serious thinkers into opposite camps !
But I waive this question. Even when God is
conceived of as a thinking Personality, how, I

276 PERSONALITY
venture to ask, can we be the better for believing
in or worshipping a will-less and unfeeling Deity?
We cannot think of him as moral. Those Hegelians
who do think of God as morally perfect omit to tell
us what Goodness can raean in a being who does
nothing, causes nothing, wills nothing; who sym
pathises not and loves not. Aristotle was only
consistent when, with such a conception of the Deity,
he ridiculed the notion that God can care whether
men are good or bad, and when he urged that we
becorae like him most when we lose ourselves in
isolated, anti-social contemplation or study of
nature. Even Aristotle forgot himself so far as to
make pure thought capable of pleasure, and failed
to observe that when he makes nature aim at the
good he was bringing back that moral ideal which he
had proposed to banish from his interpretation of the
Universe. The word ' good ' could mean nothing tp
us apart from the judgments of value upon which our
moral activity depends. It is creditable to the heart,
if not to the head, of Aristotle's Hegelian iraitators
that they are seldom consistent and thorough-going
in the working out of their fundamental thesis, and
that they will persist in bringing into some kind of
ill-defined connexipn with the mpral life a Being
to whom they theoretically refuse the essential
conditions of a raoral existence.
I have tried to set before you the two rival con
ceptions of God with which raodern Philosophy is
confronted, and I have tried to indicate some of the
logical consequences of accepting the one which is,
I fear, most in vogue among students of Philosophy

IN GOD AND MAN 277
at the present time — at least in the southern parts of
this island. But I do not want for a moment to
scare anyone away from it for fear of its practical
consequences. What I do want to insist upon is the
irrationality and inconsistency of first pretending to
interpret the Universe in terms of mind, and then
substituting for raind as we know it a one-sided
abstraction of pure thought which is unlike anything
that we know or have any reason to believe to be
possible. The whole tendency of raodern specula
tion confirms the natural tendency of the religious
consciousness to interpret the Universe in terms of
Mind. So far the Christian thinker will welcome its
results ; only let us have the courage to say that, if
we accept so much, we will not be juggled into
accepting some miserable abstraction in place of the
living God by that old bugbear of philosophical pol
emics, the charge of anthroporaorphisra. Of course
our God is anthroporaorphic : and so must be every
God whom the raind of man can really conceive.
When the Hegelian speaks of God as Thought he
is as anthropomorphic as we are when we insist that,
if God is Mind, he must be Will and Feeling as well
as Thought. Indeed, the Hegelian is more anthro
poraorphic than the ordinary Theologian. For the
Hegelian,, when he is in earnest about his Theisra,
always seems to assume that God's thinking is
exactly the sarae as ours except for the fact that he
coraprehends all the Universe at once : whereas the
Theologians have always insisted that such terms as
Thought and Will and Love are always applied to
God sensu eminentiori. We apply these terms to

278 PERSONALITY
him because they are the highest categories that we
have. We must use them or we must cease to think
at all. We shall not think of God more worthily or
truly by hypostatizing one side of human nature, and
banishing frora our conception of God all that gives
his highest worth and lovableness to raan. Far
raore philosophical is the position of the orthpdpx
Scholasticism which declares that God is essentially
a Trinity — Power, Wisdom, and Love — Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost — three Persons or eternally distin
guishable properties united in one indivisible Unity.
Such a God too can be intelligibly conceived of as re
vealing himself in Man — imperfectly, progressively in
the whole history of the human race, pre-eminently
and supremely in Him who beheld the open vision of
God as His Father and taught us by character and word
and life to think of Him as being essentially Love.
This Lecture is to be devpted tp some subject
connected with practical Religion. So far I have
been dealing with somewhat speculative matters, and
yet I do not think I have been unpractical. For I
do not know anything raore iraportant from the raost
severely practical point of view than to keep our
conception of God high and pure. And therefore
I do not think I have been departing frora the
purposes of this lecture in warning you against the
imposing rhetoric in which an essentially irreligious
and unchristian conception of God is sometimes so
skilfully disguised as to deceive the very elect. But
I go on to the more directly practical application of
my subject. In Religion as in Theology — on the sub
jective side as on the objective — there is a danger in a

IN GOD AND MAN 279
one-sided insistence on any of these three aspects of
spiritual being, knowledge or feeling or will.
We know the danger of substituting intellectual
speculation or the mere acceptance of an intellectual
Creed for practical Religion. It was exhibited by the
early Gnostic heresies which hovered between an un
social asceticism and a sensual antinomianism. It
has been exhibited all through the Church's history
by that paralysis of spiritual life which ensues when
the acceptance of dogma is taken to be an end in
itself instead of simply a means to a holy life. It is
exhibited in its way by the modern mode of thought
to whiqh I have already alluded, which, in spite of
the high spiritual aims of many of its representatives,
does tend towards substituting an attitude of self-
satisfied contemplatipn of things in general for the
attitude of antagonisra towards moral evil. Man is
apt to become like the God whom he worships.
Thinking of God as a mere contemplator of all time
and all existence raust tend to substitute in ourselves
an attitude of interested and amused contemplation
of evil for the attitude of strenuous resistance to it.
There is a danger lest we should end, like such men
as Renan, in regarding human sin and human misery
as simply adding something to the piquancy of the
.cultivated man's self-centred survey of an eminently
curious Universe.
And so with the one-sided effort to make the
religious life centre or terminate in feeling. When
it is supposed that salvation consists essentially in a
certain state of emotion, in comfortable experiences,
in inward peace or the like and not in a certain state

28o PERSONALITY
of will, we are already on the high road to moral and
social apathy. No doubt it is in religious and social
emotion that we must seek for the springs of re
ligious and social life. True faith, as the sober
teachers of justification by faith have always taught,
is the faith that works by love. The conversion of
the heart means conversion of the will. Nor can
there be a real love of God whom we have not
seen without a love of the brethren whom we have
seen. But, when all the stress of religious teaching
is laid upon the emotional state and the reference of
this state to the will is forgotten, the feeling that is
cultivated by such teaching is apt itself to degenerate
into a kind of feeling which is by no raeans always
fruitful in good works. Some of us have been
reminded of the possibility of such degradation of
true religious emotion by the picture drawn in the
life of Tennyson of the old aunt whose eyes streamed
with tears as she spoke of the goodness of God who
had eternally damned all those nearest and dearest
to her and predestined her, no better than the rest,
to everlasting salvation. It is very likely that this
particular old lady was a kindly old woman enough,
who did not in the least realize the awful meaning of
the conventional language she was using. But the
history of Religion is full of indications of the natural
tendency of such wholly individualistic religious
ideals to realize theraselves in the lives of those
by whom they are absorbed. In recent times we
may perhaps find a more formidable danger in the
tendency of mere aestheticism to clothe itself in the
language of spiritual edification. The schopl in

IN GOD AND MAN 281
question is right when it teaches that the enjoy
ment of beautiful things is an element of the ideal
life. But when we find a recent thinker suggesting
that the listening to instrumental music is becoming
the only rational forra of worship, we cannot but
suspect a tendency to degrade moral goodness — ^the
right direction of the will — from the supreme place
which it ought to occupy in the scale of spiritual
values in favour of raere eraotional exaltation. At
all events, in more vulgar minds there is a tendency
beneath the specious naraes of self-realization or cul
ture to cast a halo of spiritual blessedness over what
is siraply a refined way of arausing ourselves. Amuse
ment has its due place in life, the noblest kinds of
amusement have a very high place indeed ; but we
shall give it more than its right place if we suppose
that we can sanctify an existence divided between con
tinental lounging and questionable French novels by
calling it devotion to the sacred study of Art.
Lastly, there may be such a thing as a one-sided
insistence upon the importance of the will in the
religious life. Of all the three exaggerations, this is
to my mind the least dangerous. For essentially we
are in the right when we say that Religion consists in
a certain state of the will. We can only exaggerate
this doctrine when we forget the essential connexion
of the state of our wills with the ideas or ideals that
dominate our thoughts and the emotional states
which determine the character of our desires. " The
stern daughter of the voice of God," writes Lord
Tennyson, " unclothed with the warmth of the feel- '
ings, is as impotent to convert as the old Stoicism."

282 PERSONALITY
There is no shallower idea, again, than to suppose
that what we believe has no effect on what we will,
or that the state of our wills has no effect on what
we believe. Our moral ideal itself is a kind of belief
— the most important of all beliefs ; and yet who will
say that the ideal does not reveal the character — the
habitual direction or bent of the man's will ? Our moral
ideal is the belief which is most closely connected
with the will : this is the belief which most of all it
rests with our wills to hold fast or to let go. But
there are many other beliefs which have a powerful
influence upon conduct, and which in greater or less
degree are connected with the state of our wills.
Creed and character act and react upon one another.
What then, you raay ask, is the practical outcome
of these facts ? I do not mean for one moraent to
urge anyone to stifle intellectual doubt for fear of
its practical consequences ; nor do I raean to suggest
that a man is necessarily a bad man because he is
for a time or even permanently unable to accept the
Christian or the Theistic view of the Universe, It
would indeed be imraoral to try to believe things
which seem to us contrary to reason or unsupported
by evidence, if only we give a sufficiently wide ex
tension to our idea of " evidence." But a very little
study of the evidence for Theism will assure you
that in the ordinary sense of the word there can
hardly be said to be "evidence" either for or against
Theism, The raost that can be shown is that Theisra
is the hypothesis about the ultimate nature of things
which fits and explains the facts better than any other.
Now if we were dealing with purely speculative or

IN GOD AND MAN 283
scientific matters, we should of course accord to our
hypothesis only just the amount of weight which was
warranted by its probability. This attitude of sus
pended judgment becomes impossible when belief
calls for action. And even in purely scientific
raatters it is just in proportion as we find any
hypothesis to give us the power of prevision or any
other kind of power over nature, just when we find
that a hypothesis will work, that we may raost truly
be said to believe it. Practical acceptance of a
belief is no doubt consistent with speculative doubt,
but even in the scientific sphere it may be said that
our willingness to act upon an hypothesis is the
measure of our belief in its truth.
Now for certain purposes I think we ought to treat
belief in God as a working hypothesis. I do not
wish tP attenuate the degree pf speculative certainty
with which the existence pf Gpd is capable of being
established. To some of us there raay be no specu
lative doubt about it except what is iraplied by the
necessity of admitting that it involves difficulties
which we cannot altogether explain. But then there
are probably minds, especially among the unmeta-
physical, to which it will present itself rather as a
highly probable hypothesis, and what I want to
urge is, that if there seems to you a probability in
its favour, and if you find it to be the belief that
will serve as a guide to the noblest kind of life, the
belief that inspires action best, that keeps alive most
fully the sense of moral responsibility, that gives you
the highest view of the possibilities of the world in
which you are called upon to work — then you are

284 PERSONALITY
absolutely entitled to believe it. Do not be afraid or
ashamed of admitting that you believe because you
choose to believe, because you find it an hypothesis
which spiritually works.
So far you will be pnly dping what the man of
Science does when he adopts as a working hypothesis
the theory which has given him, as far as his present
experience goes, the greatest command over nature
for the purposes both of further knowledge and of
further command over nature. But here comes a
difference. The practical acceptance of a scientific
belief for scientific purposes can hardly be said to
involve the direction of feeling and emotion into
one groove. You can use your hypothesis even at
the moment when you are most inclined to doubt its
finality, though I suspect that in practice it is the
enthusiast for the new theory rather than the sceptic
who will do most for that further investigation which
will either confirm or displace it. But this is not so
with our practical acceptance of the religious hypo
thesis. Religious feeling does not, indeed, demand
the extinction of speculative open-mindedness ; but
it does demand the habitual dwelling upon the truth
which it accepts, the habitual exclusion of the con
trary hypothesis from our practical working life.
For the working creed to have its practical effect
upon the mind, it must dominate not merely the
outward action but the habitual tone of thought,
the emotions, the affections, the desires. It is pre
cisely by exciting and maintaining these emotions
that religious belief affects conduct.
Let me illustrate what I mean by two examples.

IN GOD AND MAN 285
You are trying to climb a difficult mountain. You
do not know which is the best way to the top. You
will certainly never get there if you wait till it is
proved which way will lead there. You must take
what seems to you the more probable course and
keep on persistently. You would fail if you refused
to start till the evidence for your hypothesis was
complete: you would fail still more certainly and
disastrously if you kept wandering about from one
path to another or attempting to strike sorae raean
course between them. You must act as if you knew
that the way you are going on was right until you
see a definite reason for retracing your steps. That
is what Bishop Butler meant by his doctrine that
probability is the guide of life ;* and your chances of
success will be all the greater in proportion to the
emotional confidence with which you dismiss from
your minds the possibility of your being wrong.
Or if the kind of emotional confidence which in such
a case you place in the truth of your hypothesis
seems to you a poor and inadequate parallel to the
confidence which Christianity invites you to repose
in Christ and the God whom He reveals, I will
suggest an analogy which may be thought more
adequate — the trust that we place in persons. To
the metaphysical thinker the very existence of
another human being besides himself is but an
hypothesis — an enorraously probable hypothesis
because it so completely explains the facts. But
there are other hypotheses which will do that;
• There is a new and a very striking restatement of this doctrine in
Professor jAMES' admirable work, The Will io Believe.

286 PERSONALITY
Solipsism is an hypothesis which can never be
positively disproved. And ypt surely no friendship
was ever dulled or dimmed by the thought that the
very existence of your friend was only an hypothesis.
And when you go on to examine the logical basis of
your belief in your friend's character, still more
evident is it that your estimate of him is after all
only an hypothesis for which there is a greater or less
probability. In the beginning of your friendship you
acted on a belief in his goodness, or whatever the
qualities were that attracted you to him, which went
considerably in advance of the evidence. Even in
the most reserved dealings with strangers we
have to make a certain venture of faith. The
most ordinary social intercourse would be frozen
at its very source if we did not assume something
more than was proved about the people we meet.
And when we attempt to exercise spiritual influence
on others, does not success very largely depend upon
a willingness to believe the best of people, which
not merely runs ahead of positive knowledge but
implies a voluntary putting aside of much to which
experience raight seem to point?
Of course this provisional acceptance of an hypo
thesis about others falls very far short of what I mean
to suggest as a parallel to our trust in God. And yet
when our reasons for believing in a person's good
qualities reach a certain point — a point falling very
far short of scientific demonstration (for history tells us
that men are often less good and friends less faithful
than they seem), our confidence in them and our love
of them does reach an intensity to which the most

IN GOD AND MAN 287
complete mathematical demonstration or the raost
overwhelming accumulation of experiential evidence
would be capable of adding nothing. There is there
fore nothing cold-hearted or cold-blooded in the
admission that our belief in God can only rest specu
latively upon a certain degree of probability. There
is nothing in it which is in the least calculated to
cloud the most ardent faith or to cool the warmest
love. It was not a cynic or a sceptic who defined faith
as a voluntary certainty concerning things absent.
Before I conclude, I should like to elicit from these
brief reflections on the place of the will in our
religious life a few definite practical counsels. I
would say, then —
(i) If you determine to accept the spiritual
interpretation of the world, be thorough with it.
Think of God as willing and feeling, as Power and
Love, and not as Thought only. Think of Him and
treat Him as a Person to whom you can pray.
(2) Regard the state of the will as the raost
important thing in your religious life. To aim at the
highest that you know, that is the most important
element in Religion. That you may always secure,
whatever turn your speculative ideas may take. But
do not forget that some views as to the ultimate nature
of things supply a better support and basis for this
moral effort than others, and do not be afraid to
adopt the Creed which seems to you to supply the
raost rational basis for the highest and most
sustained moral effort, because you admit that the
speculative reasons in its favour only amount to a
greater or less degree of probability.

288 PERSONALITY IN GOD AND MAN
And (3) remeraber that belief can only influence
conduct when it dominates the emotions : and
remember further that emotion can be cultivated.
Friendships die and wither (at least in their earlier
stages) unless they are sustained by personal inter
course. No enthusiasm of huraanity could reraain
undimmed by the life of an anchorite. And so if we
want to make the sense of God's presence a living
reality to us, if we want to make our belief in His
goodness the inspiration of our lives, if we want to
make the belief in Iraraortality a source of hope
fulness and strength, then we must think on these
things. We must cultivate the sense of these things
by prayer and by worship, by the study of the best
thoughts of the best men, whether in the Bible or out
of the Bible, by frequenting (if I may so say) the
society of those among the living and the departed,
in whom we see most fully realized the ideal relation
of God to Man, and especially by constantly keeping
before our mental gaze the image of that conscious
ness in which we believe the ideal of Sonship to
have been realized in an altogether unique and pre
eminent way. Frequent, deliberate coraraunion with
God as He has been revealed in Christ is the road
to the knowledge and the love which inspire a
Christian will.

W. Brendon a-nd Son, Printers, Plymouth.

A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS
AND ANNOUNCEMENTS OF
METHUEN AND COMPANY
PUBLISHERS : LONDON
36 ESSEX STREET
W.C.
CONTENTS

FOSTHCOHING BOOKS,
POETRY, ....
BELLES LETTRES, ANTHOLOGIES, ETC.,
ILLUSRTATED BOOKS, ,
HISTORV, .....
BIOGRAPHY, ....
TRAVEL, ADVENTURE AND TOPOGRAPHY,
NAVAL AND MILITARY,
GENERAL LITERATURE,
SCIENCE AND TECHNOLOGY, .
PHILOSOPHY, ....
THEOLOGY,
FICTION,BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, .
THE PEACOCK LIBRARY,
UNIVERSITY EXTEN.";iON SERIES,
SOCIAL QUESTIONS OF TO-DAY
CLASSICAL TRANSLATIONS
EDUCATIONAL BOOKS,

14 IS18

24
34 34
3336 37
37

SEPTEMBER 1898

September 1898.

Messrs. Methuen's
ANNOUNCEMENTS

Travel and Adventure
NORTHWARD: OVER THE GREAT ICE. By R. E.
Peary. With over 800 Illustrations, Maps and Diagrams. Two
Volumes, 1 100 pp. Demy Svo* ^2s, net.
In this important work Lieutenant Peary tells the story of His travels and adven
tures in the Arctic regions. His extraordinary sledge journey and his experiences
among the Eskimos are fully described, and this book is a complete record of his
Arctic work, for which tbe Royal Geographical Society has tnis year awarded
faim their Gold Medal.
The fact that Lieutenant Peary is about to start on a determined effort to reach the
North Pole lends a special interest to this book.
THROUGH ASIA. By Sven Hedin. With 250 Illustrations
by the Author and from Photographs, and 10 Maps. Two volumes.
Royal Svo, 36J. nel.
In this book Dr. Sven Hedin, the distinguished Swedish explorer, describes his
four years* experiences and his extraordinary adventures in Central Asia. Dr.
Hedin is an accomplished artist, and his drawings are full of vigour and interest.
In adventurous interest and substantial results in various departments of know
ledge, Dr. Hedin's journey will bear comparison with the travels of tbe great
explorers of the past, from Marco Polo downwards.
The Gold Medals of the Royal Geographical Society and ofthe Russian Geographical
Society bave been conferred upon him for this journey.
THE HIGHEST ANDES. By E. A. FitzGerald. With
40 Illustrations, 10 of which are Photogravures, and a Large Map.
Royal Svo. 30J. nel.
Also, a SmaU Edition on Handmade Paper, limited to 50 Copies,
¥0. £s* S^'
A narrative of the highest climb yet accomplished. ^ The illustrations have been
reproduced with the greatest care, and_ the booki in addition to its adventurous
interest, contains appendices of great scientific value.
qHITRAL : The Story of a Minor Siege. By Sir G. S. Robert
son, K. C. S. I. With Numerous Illustrations and a Map. £>emy Svo,
2 1 J. nel.
Sir George Robertson, who was at the time British Agent at Gilgit, has written
the story of Chitral from the point of view of one actually besieged in the fort.
The book is of considerable length, and has an Introductory part explaining
the series of events which culminated in the famous siege ; also an account of
Ross's disaster in the Koragh defile, the heroic defence of Reshun, and Kelly's
great march. It has numerous illustrations — plans, pictures and portraits — and a
map, and will give a connected narrative of the stirring episodes on the Chitral
frontier in 1895.

Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 3
TWENTY YEARS IN THE NEAR EAST. By A. Hulme
Beaman. Demy ?/vo. los. 6d.
A j^rsonal narrative of experiences in Syria, Egypt, Turkey and the Balkan States,
including adventures in the Lebanon, during the bombardment of Alexandra, the
iirst Egyptian Campsugn, the Donogla Expedition, the Cretan Insurrection, etc.
The book also contains several chapters oii Turkey, its people and its Sultan.

Theol

og7

DOCTRINE AND DEVELOPMENT. By Hastings Rash-
DALL, M. A., Fellow and Tutor of New College, Oxford. Crown Svo.
6s.
This volume consists ot twenty sermons, preached chieily before the University of
Oxford. They are an attempt to translate into the language of modern thdught
some ofthe leading ideas of Christian theology and ethics.
CLOVELLY SERMONS. By William Harrison, M.A., late
Rector of Clovelly. With a Preface by Lucas Malet. Crown 'ivo.
3J. 6d,
A volume of Sermons by a son-in-law of Charles Kingsley.
APOSTOLIC CHRISTIANITY: As Illustrated by the Epistles
of S. Paul to the Corinthians. By H. H. Henson, M.A., Fellow
of All Souls', Oxford. Crown Zvo. 6s.
iBanDboofts of iXbeologg.
General Editor, A. Robertson, D.D., Principal of King's College,
London.
THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE CHURCH OF ENG
LAND. Edited with an Introduction by E. C. S. Gibsqn, D.D.,
Vicar of Leeds, late Principal of Wells Theological College. Revised
and Cheaper Edition in One Volume. Demy Svo. 12s. 6d.
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF THE
CREEDS. By A. E. Burn, Examining Chaplain to the Bishop of
Lichfield. Demy Svo. 10s. 6d.
XLbe Cburcbman's HlBratB.
Edited by J. H. BURN, B.D.
A series of books by competent scholars on Church History, Institu
tions, and Doctrine, for the use of clerical and lay readers.
THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN HERE AND HERE
AFTER. By Canon Winterbotham, M.A., B.Sc, LL.B.
Crown Svo. 3s. 6d.

4 MESSRS. Methuen's Announcements
®$ford Commentaties.
General Editor, Walter Lock, D.D., Warden of Keble College,
Dean Ireland's Professor of Exegesis in the
University of Oxford.
Messrs. Methuen propose to issue a series of Commentaries upon such
Books of the Bible as still seem to need farther explanation.
The object of each Commentary is primarily exegetical, to interpret
the author's meaning to the present generation. The editors will not
deal, except very subordinately, with questions of textual criticism or
philology ; but taking the English text in the Revised Version as their
basis, they will try to combine a hearty acceptance of critical principles
with loyalty to the Catholic Faith. It is hoped that in this way the series
may be of use both to theological students and to the clergy, and also to
the growing number of educated laymen and laywomen who wish to read
the Bible intelligently and reverently.
THE BOOK OF JOB. Edited, with Introduction and Notes,
by E. C. S. Gibson, D.D., Vicar of Leeds. Demy Svo. 6s.
XLbe XfbratB of Devotion.
Pott Svo. 2s. ; leather 2s. 6d. net.
NEW VOLUMES.
THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. A Revised Translation with
an Introduction, by C. Bigg, D.D., late Student of Christ Church.
Dr. Bigg has made a practically new translation of this book, which the reader^
will have, almost for the iirst time, exactly in the shape in which it left the
hands of the author.
A BOOK OF DEVOTIONS. By J. W. Stanbridge, M.A.,
Rector of Bainton, Canon of York, and sometime FeUow of St.
John's College, Oxford. Pott Svo.
This book contains devotions, Eucharistic, daily and occasional, for the use of mem
bers of the English Church, sufficiently diversified for those who possess other
works of the kind. It is intended to be a companion in private and public worship,
and is in harmony with the thoughts of the best Devotional writers.
History and Biography
THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL SIR A. COOPER KEY. By
Admiral P. H. Colomb. With a Portrait. Demy Svo. l6s.
This life of a great sailor throws a considerable light on the evolution of the Navy
during the last fifty years.
THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
By Edward Gibbon. A New Edition, edited with Notes,
Appendices, and Maps by J. B. Bury, LL.D., Fellow of Trinity
College, Dublin. In Seven Volumes. Demy Svo, gilt top. Ss. 6d.
each. Crown Svo. 6s. each. Vol. VI.

Messrs. Methuen's Announcements 5
A HISTORY OF EGYPT, from the Earliest Times to
THE Present Day. Edited byW. M. Flinders Petrie, D.C.L.,
LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University College. Fully Illus
trated. In Six Volumes. Crown Svo. 6s. each.
Vol. IV. ROMAN EGYPT. J. G. Milne.
Vol. v. THE EGYPT OF THE PTOLEMIES. J. P. Mahaffy.
THE CANON LAW IN ENGLAND. By F. W. Maitland,
LL.D., Downing Professor ofthe Laws of England in the University
of Cambridge. Royal Svo. 7 s. 6d.
A volume of Essays on the History of theCabon Law in England. These Essays
deal chiefly with the measure of authority attributed in medieval England to the
papal law-books, and one entitled (i) Williatn Lyndwood, (-iyChurck, State and
Decretals, (3) Williatn qf Drogheda and the Universal Ordinary^ (4) Henry II.
a-nd ihe Criminous Clerks, (5) Execrabilis in the Common Pleas, and (6) The
Deacon and the Jewess.
A HISTORY OF SHREWSBURY SCHOOL. By G. W.
Fisher, M.A., Assistant Master. With Numerous Illustrations.
Demy Svo. 7s. 6d.
A HISTORY OF WESTMINSTER SCHOOL. By J. Ser
geant, M.A., Assistant Master. With Numerous Illustrations.
Demy Svo. 7s. 6d.
A HISTORY OF ETON COLLEGE. By W. Sterry, B.A.
With Numerous Illustrations. Demy Svo. 7j. 6d.
General Literature
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. By John Bunyan. Edited,
with an Introduction, by C. H. Firth, M.A. With 39 Illustrations
by R. Anning Bell. Crown Svo. 6s.
This book contains a long Introduction by Mr. Firth, whose knowledge of the period
is unrivalled ; and it is lavishly illustrated.
AN OLD ENGLISH HOME. By S. Baring Gould. With
Numerous Plans and Illustrations. Crown Svo. 6s.
This book describes the life and environment of an old English family.
CAMBRIDGE AND ITS COLLEGES. By A. Hamilton
Thompson. With Illustrations by E. H. New. Pott Svo, y.
Leather, p. 6d. net.
This book is uniform with Mr. Wells's very successful book, ' Oxford and its Colleges. '
UNIVERSITY AND SOCIAL SETTLEMENTS. By W.
Reason, M.A. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d. [Social Question Series.
DANTE'S GARDEN. By Rosamond Cotes. With a frontis
piece Fcafi. Svo. y. 6d.
An account of the flowers mentioned by Dante, with their legends.
READING AND READERS. By Clifford Harrison.
Fcap. Svo. 2s. 6d.
A little book of principles and hints by the most distinguished of livmg reciters.

6 MESSRS. Methuen's Announcements
Educational
VOLUMETRIC ANALYSIS. By J. B. Russell, Science
Master at Burnley Grammar School. Crown Svo. is. 6d.
A small Manual, containing all the necessary rules, etc., on a subject which has
hitherto only been treated in expensive volumes.
A KEY TO STEDMAN'S EASY FRENCH EXERCISES.
By G. A. SCHRUMPF. Crown Svo. y. net.
A SHORTER GREEK PRIMER. By A. M. M. Stedman,
M.A. Crown Svo. is. 6d.
A book which contains the elements of Accidence and Syntax.
CARPENTRY AND JOINERY. By F. C. Webber. With
many Illustrations. Crown Svo. y. 6d. [Handbooks of Technology.
A Manual for technical classes and self-instruction.
PRACTICAL MECHANICS. By Sidney H. Wells. Illus
trated. Crown Svo. y. 6d. [Handbooks of Technology.
A CLASS-BOOK OF DICTATION PASSAGES. By W.
Williamson, M.A. ' Crown Svo. is. 6d.
The passages are culled from recognised authors, and a few newspaper passages are
included. The lists of appended words are drawn up mainly on the principle of
comparison and contrast, and -will form a repertoire of over 2000 Words, embracing
practically all the difficulties felt by the pupil.

Byzantine Texts

Edited by J. B. Bury, LL.D., Professor of Modern History at
Trinity College, Dublin,
EVAGRIUS. Edited by Professor L]£on Parmentier of
Liege and M. Bidez of Gand. Demy Svo.

Cheaper Editions

BRITISH CENTRAL AFRICA. By Sir H. H. Johnston,
K.C.B. With nearly Two Hundred Illustrations, and Six Maps.
Revised a-nd Cheaper Edition. Crown ^0. 21s.net,
* The book is crowded with important information, and written in a most attractive
style ; it is worthy, in short, ofthe author's established reputation.' — Standard.
VAILIMA LETTERS. By Robert Louis Stevenson. With
an Etched Portrait by William Strang, and other Illustrations.
Cheaper Edition. Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s.
ABOOKOF CHRISTMAS VERSE. Edited by H.C.Beeching,
M.A., and Illustrated by Walter Crane. Cheaper Edition.
Crown Svo, gilt top. y. 6d.
A collection of the best verse inspired by the birth of Christ from the Middle Ages
to the present day.

MESSRS. Methuen's Announcements 7
LYRA SACRA : An Anthology of Sacred Verse. Edited by H.
C. Beeching, M.A. Cheaper Edition. CrownSvo. Buckram. y.6d.
' A charming selection, which maintains a lofty standard of excellence.'— TVwm.
Fiction
THE BATTLE OF THE STRONG. By Gilbert Parker,
Author of ' The Seats of the Mighty.' Crown Svo. 6s.
A romance of 1798.
THE TOWN TRAVELLER. By GEORGE GiSSiNG, Author
of ' Demos,' ' In the Year of Jubilee,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s.
THE COUNTESS TEKLA. By Robert Barr, Author of
'The Mutable Many.' CrownSvo. 6s,
A historical romance.
THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED. By Dorothea
Gerard, Author of ' Lady Baby,' ' Orthodox,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s.
DOMITIA. By S. Baring Gould, Author of ' The Broom
Squire,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s.
A romance of imperial Rome.
FROM THE EAST UNTO THE WEST. By jANE Barlow,
Authorof ' Irish Idylls,' ' A Creel of Irish Stories,' etc. Crown Svo. 6s.
TO ARMS I By Andrew Balfour, Author of ' By Stroke of
Sword.' Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6s.
A romance of 1715.
THE JOURNALIST. By C. F. Keary. Crown Svo. 6s.
A story of modem literary life.
PEGGY OF THE BARTONS. By B. M. Croker, Author of
' Proper Pride.' Crown Svo. 6s.
A VENDETTA OF THE DESERT. By W. C. Scully.
Crown Svo, y. 6d.
A South African romance.
CORRAGEEN IN '98. By Mrs. Orpen. CrownSvo. 6s.
A romance of the Irish Rebellion.
AN ENEMY TO THE KING. By R. N. Stephens. Crown
Svo. 6s.
PLUNDERPIT. By J. Keighley Snowden. Crown Bvo. 6s.
A romance of adventure.
DEADMAN'S. By Mary Gaunt, Author of ' Kirkham's Find.'
Crown Svo. 6s.
An Australian story.
WILLOWBRAKE. By R. MURRAY Gilchrist. CrownSvo. bs.
THE ANGEL OF THE COVENANT. By J. Maclaren
Cobban. Crown Svo. 6s.
A historical romance, ofwhich Montrose is tbe hero.
OWD BOB, THE GREY DOG OF KENMUIR. By Alfred
Ollivant. Crown Svo. 6s.
A story of the Cumberland dales; . „ ^ n ,
ANANIAS. Bythe Hon. Mrs. Alan Brodrick. CrownSvo. bs.
ADVENTURES IN WALLYPUG LAND. By G. E. Farrow.
With Illustrations by Alan Wright. Crown Svo. Gilt top. y.

A LIST OF
Messrs. Methuen's
PUBLICATIONS

Poetry
Eudyard Kipling. BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS, By
Rudyard Kipling, Thirteenth Edition, Crown Svo, 6j.
' Mr. Kipling's verse is strong, vivid, full of character. . . . Unmistakable genius
rings in every line.' — Times.
'Tb& ballads teem with imagination, they palpitate with emotion. We read them
with laughter and tears \ the metres throb in pur pulses, the cunningly ordered
words tingle with life ; and if this be not poetry, v/h&t isV -^Pall Mall Gaxeite.
Rudyard Kipling. THE SEVEN SEAS. By Rudyard
Kipling. Fourth Edition, Crown Svo, Buckram, gilt top, 6s,
' The new poems of Mr. Rudyard Kipling have all the spirit and swing of their pre
decessors. Patriotism is the solid concrete foundation on which Mr. Kipling has
built the whole ofhis work.' — Times,
* The Empire has found a singer ; it is no depreciation of the songs to say that states
men may have, one way or other, to take account of tHem.* — Manchester
Guardian.
' Animated through and through with indubitable genius.' — Daily Telegraph.
"Q." POEMS AND BALLADS. By "Q." CrownSvo. y. 6d.
' This work has just the faint, ineffable touch and glow that make poetry.' — Speaker,
" Q." GREEN BAYS : Verses and Parodies. By " Q.," Author
of ' Dead Man's Rock,' etc. Seco-nd Edition. CrownSvo. y.6d.
E. Mackay. A SONG OF THE SEA. By Eric Mackay.
Second Edition. Fcap. Svo. y.
' Everywhere Mr. Madkay displays himself the master of a style marlced by all the
characteristics ofthe best rhetoric' — Globe.
H. Ibsen. BRAND. A Drama by Henrik Ibsen. Translated
by William Wilson. Second Edition, Crown Svo. y. 6d.
'The greatest world-poem of the nineteenth century next to "Faust." It is in
thesame set with " Agamemnon," with " Lear," with the literature that we now
instinctively regard as high and holy.' — Daily Chronicle.
"A.G." VERSES TO ORDER. By«A. G." Cr.Svo. zs.bd.
net.
' A capital specimen of light academic poetry. ' — St. lames's Gazette.
J. a. Cordery. THE ODYSSEY OF HOMER. A Transla
tion by J. G. Cordery. Crown Svo. 7s. 6d.

Messrs. Methuen's List g
Belles Lettres, Anthologies, etc.
B. L.Stevenson. VAILIMA LETTERS. By Robert Louis
Stevenson. With an Etched Portrait by William Strang, and
other Illustrations. Second Edition, Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s.
' A fascinating hook.'~-Standard.
' Full of charm and brightness.' — Spectator.
' A gjft almost priceless.' — Speaker.
' Unique in literature.' — Daily Chronicle.
George Wyndham. THE POEMS OF WILLIAM SHAKE
SPEARE. Edited with an Introduction and Notes by George
WyndhaMj M.P. Demy Svo, Buckram, gilt top, \qs, (>d.
This edition contains the ' Venus/ ' Lucrece,' and Sonnets, and is prefaced with an
elaborate introduction of over 140 pp.
' One of the most serious contributions to Shakespearian criticism that bas been pub
lished for some time.' — Times.
*One ofthe best pieces of editing in the language.' — Outlook.
'This is a scholarly and interesting contribution to Shakespearian literature.' —
Literature. ^ ^
'We have no hesitation in describing Mr. George Wjmdham's introduction as a
masterly piece of criticism^ and all who love our Elizabethan Uterature will find a
Very garden of delight in it. '-Spectator, _
' Mr. Wyndham's notes are admirable, even mdlspensabre.' — lyesiminsier Gazette.
'The standard edition of Shakespeare's poems.'— jW^or/i/.
* The book is written with critical insight and literary i&Wcity.' ^^tandard.
W.E. Henley. ENGLISH LYRICS. Selected and Edited by
W. E. Henley. Crown Svo. Buckram, gilt top. 6s.
' It is a body of choice and lovely poetry.' — Birmingham Gazette.
Henley and Whibley. A BOOK OF ENGLISH PROSE.
Collected by W. E. Henley and Charles Whibley. Crown Svo.
Buckram, gilt top. 6s.
' Quite delightful. A-greater treat fpr those not well act^io^inted with preTRestoration
prose could not be imagined.' — Athenaum.
H. C. BeecMng. LYRA SACRA : An Anthology of Sacred Verse.
Edited by H. C. Beeching, M.A. Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s.
* A charming selection, which maintains a lofty standard of excellence.' — Times.
"Q." THE GOLDEN POMP: A Procession of English Lyrics.
Arranged by A. T. Quiller CotJCH. Crown Svo. Buckram. 6s.
' A delightful volume : a really golden * ' Pomp. " ' — Spectator.
W. B. Yeats. AN ANTHOLOGY OF IRISH VERSE.
Edited by W. B. Yeats. Crown Svo. zs. 6d.
' An attractive and catholic selection.' — Times.
G. W. Steevens. MONOI.OGUES OF THE DEAD. By
G. W. Steevens. Foolscap Svo. y. 6d.
*The effect is sometimes splendid, sometimes bizarre,, but always amazingly clever.'
—Pall Mall Gazette.
W. M. Dixon. A PRIMER OF TENNYSON. By W. M.
Dixon, M.A., Professor of English Literature at Mason College.
Crown Svo. 2s. 6d.
' Much sound and well-expressed criticism. The bibliography is a hooa.'— Speaker.
A 2

IO . Messrs. Methuen's List
W. A. Craigie. A PRIMER OF BURNS. By W. A. Craigie.
Crown Svo. 2s. 6d.
' A valuable addition to the literature of the poet.' — Times.
L. Magnus. A PRIMER OF WORDSWORTH. By Laurie
Magntjs. Crown Svo. 2s, 6d.
' A valuable contribution to Wordsworthian literature.' — Literature.
Steme. THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF TRISTRAM
SHANDY. By Lawrence Sterne. With an Introduction by
Charles Whibley, and a Portrait. 2 vols. 7s.
' Very dainty volumes are these ; the paper, type, and light-green binding are all
very agreeable to the eye. ' — Globe.
Congreve. THE COMEDIES OF WILLIAM CONGREVE.
With an Introduction by G. S. Street, and a -Portrait. 2 vols. 7s.
Morier. THE ADVENTURES OF HAJJI BABA OF
ISPAHAN. By James Morier. With an Introduction by E. G.
Browne, M. A., and a Portrait. 2 vols. 7s.
Walton. THE LIVES OF DONNE, WOTTON, HOOKER,
HERBERT, and SANDERSON. By Izaak Walton. With
an Introduction by Vernon Blackburn, and a Portrait. 3^. 6d.
Johnson. THE LIVES OF THE ENGLISH POETS. By
Samuel Johnson, LL.D. With an Introduction by J. H. Millar,
and a Portrait. 3 vols. 10s. 6d.
Bums. THE POEMS OF ROBERT BURNS. Edited by
Andrew Lang and W. A. Craigie. With Portrait. Demy Svo,
gilt top. 6s.
This edition contains a carefully collated Text, numerous Notes, critical and textual,
a criticaland biographical Introduction, and a Glossary.
'Among editions in one volume, this will take the place of authority.' — Times.
F. Langbridge. BALLADS OF THE BRAVE: Poems of
Chivalry, Enterprise, Courage, and Constancy. Edited by Rev. F.
Langbridge. Second Edition. CrownSvo. y, 6d. School Edition.
2s. 6d.
'A very happy conception happily carried out. These "Ballads ofthe Brave" are
intended to suit the real tastes of boys, and will suit the taste of the great majority.'
—Spectator. ' The book is full of splendid things.' — World.
Illustrated Books
F. D. Bedford. NURSERY RHYMES. With many Coloured
Pictures. By F. D. Bedford. Super Royal Svo. y.
' An excellent selection of the best known rhymes, with beautifully coloured pictures
exquisitely printed.' — Pall Mall Gazette.
S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF FAIRY TALES retold by S.
Earing Gould. With numerous illustrations and initial letters by
Arthur J. Gaskin. Second Edition. CrownSvo. Buckram. 6s.
' Mr. Baring Gould is deserving of gratitude, in re-writing in simple style the old
stories that delighted our fathers and grandfathers.'— i'afe^-^aj/ Review,

Messrs. Methuen's List ii
S. Baring Gould. OLD ENGLISH FAIRY TALES. Col
lected and edited by S. Baring Gould. With Numerous Illustra
tions by F.D. Bedford. Second Edition. CrownSvo. Btukratn, 6s.
'A cluuining volume. The stories have been selected with great ingenuity from
various old ballads and folk-tales, and now stand forth, clothed in Mr. Baring
Gould's delightful English, to enchant youthful readers.' — Guardian.
S. Baring Gould. A BOOK OF NURSERY SONGS AND
RHYMES. Edited by S. Baring Gould, and Illustrated by the
Binningham Art SchooK Buckrcmi, gilt top. Crown Svo, 6s.
' Tbe volume is very complete in its way, as it contains nursery songs to the number
of 77, game-rhymes, and jingles. To the student we commend the sensible intro
duction, and the explanatory notes.' — Birmingham Gazette.
H. 0. Beeching. A BOOK OF CHRISTMAS VERSE. Edited
by H. C. Beeching, M.A., and Illustrated by Walter Crane.
Crown Svo, gilt top, y.
An anthology which, from its unity of aim and high poetic excellence, has a better
right to exist than most of its fellows. '—Gvardian.

History-

Gibbon. THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN
EMPIRE. By Edward Gibbon. A New Edition, Edited with
Notes, Appendices, and Maps, by J. B. Bury, LL.D., Fellow of
Trinity College, Dublin. In Seven Volumes. Demy Svo. Gilt top.
Ss. 6d. each. Also crown Svo. 6s. each. Vols. I., II., III., IV.,
and V.
' The time has certainly arrived for a new edition of Gibbon's great work. . . . Pro
fessor Bury is the right man to undertake this task. His learning is amazing,
both in extent and accurac]^. The book is issued in a handy form, and at a
moderate price, and it is admirably printed.* — Titnes.
' This edition, is a marvel of erudition and critical skill, and it is the very minimum
of praise to predict that the seven volumes of it will supersede Dean Milman's as
the standard edition of our great historical c)3sSK.'— Glasgow Herald.
' At last there is an adequate modern edition of Gibbon. . . . The best edition the
nineteenth century could produce.' — Manchester Guardian.
Flinders Petrie. A HISTORY OF EGYPT,fromthe Earliest
Times to the Present Day. Edited by W. M. Flinders
Petrie, D.C.L., LL.D., Professor of Egyptology at University
College. Fully Illustrated. In Six Volumes. Crown Svo. 6s. each.
Vol. I. Prehistoric Times to XVIth Dynasty. W. M. F.
Petrie. Third Edition.
Vol. II. The XVIIth and XVIIIth Dynasties. W. M. F.
Petrie. Second Edition.
' A history written in the spirit of scientific precision so worthily re;presented by Dr.
Petrie and his school cannot but promote sound and accurate study, and
supply a vacant place in the English literature of Egyptology.'— Times.
Flinders Petrie. RELIGION AND CONSCIENCE IN
ANCIENT EGYPT. By W. M. Flinders Petrie, D.C.L.,
LL.D. Fully Illustrated. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d.
* The lectures will afford a fund of valuable information for students of ancient ethics.
—Manchester Guardian.

12 MESSRS, Methuen's List
Flinders Petrie. SYRIA AND EGYPT, FROM THE TELL
EL AMARNA TABLETS. By W. M. Flinders Petrie,
D.C.L., LL.D. Crown Svo. 2s. 6d.
'A marvellous record. The addition made to our knowledge is nothing short of
amazing.' — Times.
FUnders Petrie. EGYPTIAN TALES. Edited by W. M.
Fli.nders Petrie. Illustrated by Tristram Ellis. In Two
Volumes. Crown Svo. y. 6d. each.
' A valuable addition to the literature of comparative folk-lore. The drawings are
really illustrations in the literal sense of the word.* — Glohe.
' Invaluable as a picture of life in Palestine and Egypt.'— Daily News.
FUnders Petrie. EGYPTIAN DECORATIVE ART. By
W. M. Flinders Petrie. With 120 Illustrations. Cr. Svo. y. 6d.
' In these lectures he displays rare skill in elucidating the developraent of
decorative art in Egypt, and in tracing its influence on the art ' of other
countries. ' — Times.
0. W. Oman. A HISTORY OF THE ART OF WAR.
Vol. II. ', The Middle Ages, from the Fourth to the Fourteenth
Century. By C. W. Oman, M.A., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford.
Illustrated. Demy Svo, 21s,
' The book is based throughout upon a thorough study of the original sources, and
¦will be an indispensable aid to all students of medieval hi^.tovy.'— Athenceum.
* The whole art of war in its historic evolution^ has never been treated on such an
ample and comprehensive scale, and we question if any recent contribution to the
exact history of the world has possessed greater and more enduring value.' — Daily
Chronicle,
S. Baring Gould. THE -TRAGEDY OF THE C^SARS.
With numerous Illustrations from Busts, Gems, Cameos, etc. By S.
Baring Gould. Fourth Edition, Royal Svo. i$s,
* A most splendid and fascinating book on a subject of undying interest. The great
feature of the book is the use the author has made of the existing portraits_ of the
Caesars, and the admirable critical subtlety he has exhibited in dealing with this
line of research. It is brilliantly written, and the illustrations are supplied on a
scale cf profuse magnificence.' — Daily Chronicle.
H. de B. Gibbins. INDUSTRY IN ENGLAND : HISTORI
CAL OUTLINES. By H. de B. Gibbins, M.A., D.Litt. With
5 Maps. Second Edition. Demy Svo. los. 6d.
H. E. Egerton. A HISTORY OF BRITISH COLONIAL
POLICY. By H. E. Egerton, M.A. Demy Svo. 12s. 6d.

'It is

a good book, distinguished by accuracy in detail, clear arrangement of facts,
a broad grasp of principles.' — Manchester Guardian,

and a broad grasp of principles.' — Manchester Guardian,
'Able, Unpattial, clear. . . . A most valuable volume,'— ii^;i(»<r«m.

Messrs. Methuen's List 13
Albert Sorel. THE EASTERN QUESTION IN THE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. By Albert Sorel, of the French
Academy. Translated by F. C. Bramwell, M.A., with an Intro
duction by R. C. L. Fletcher, Fellow of Magdalen College,
Oxford. With a Map. Crown Svo. 41, 6d.
' The author's insight into the character and motives of the leadine actors in the
drama gives the work an interest uncommon in books based oh similar material.' —
Scotsman.
0. H. Grinling. A HISTORY OF THE GREAT NORTHERN
RAILWAY, 1845-95. By Charles H. Grinling. With Maps
and Illustrations. Demy Svo. 10s. 6d.
* Admirably written, and crammed with interesting f^cts-'^Daily Mail.
* The only adequate history of a great English railway company that has as yet
appeared. * — Times.
* Mr. Grinlin^.has done for the history of the Great Northern what Macaulay did for
English History.'— 7'A«£Mj7««e>-.
A. Clark. THE COLLEGES OF OXFORD : Their History
and their Traditions. By Members of the University. Edited by A.
Clark, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Lincoln College. Svo. 125. 6d.
* A work which will certainly be appealed to for many years as the standard book on
the Colleges of Oxford,' — Athenteum.
Perrens. THE HISTORY OF FLORENCE FROM 1434
TO 1492. By F. T. Perrens. Svo. 12s. 6d.
A history of Florence under the domination of Cosimo, Piero, and Lorenzo de
Medicis.
J. WeUs. A SHORT HISTORY OF ROME. By J. Wells,
M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Wadham Coll., Oxford. With 4 Maps.
Crown Svo, y, 6d,
This book is intended for the Middle and Upper Forms of Public Schools and for
Pass Students at the Universities. It contains copious Tables, etc.
' An original work written on an original plan, and with uncommon freshness and
vigour.' — speaker,
0. Browning. A SHORT HISTORY OF MEDIEVAL ITALY,
A.D. 1250-1530, By Oscar Browning, Fellow and Tutor of King's
College, Cambridge. Second Edition. In Two Volumes. Crown
Svo, Ss. each.
Vol. I. 1250-1409. — Guelphs and Ghibellines.
Vol. II. 1409-1530. — The Age ofthe Condottieri.
' Mr. Browning is to be congratulated on the production of a work of immense
labour and learning.' — Westminster Gazette.
O'Grady. THE STORY OF IRELAND. By Standish
O'Grady, Author of ' Finn and his Companions.' Cr. Svo. 2s. 6d.
'Most delightful, most stimulating. Its racy humour, its original imaginings,
make it one of the freshest, breeziest volames.'— Methodist Times.

14 Messrs. Methuen's List

Biography

S. Baring Gould. THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONA
PARTE. By S. Baring Gould. With over 450 Illustrations in
the Text and 12 Photogravure Plates. Large quarto. Gilt top. z^s.
' The best biography of Napoleon in our tongue, nor have the French as good a
biographer of their hero. A book very nearly as good as Southey's " Life of
Nelson." ' — Manchester Guardian. ., , .
'The mairi feature of this gorgeous volume is its great wealth of beautiful photo
gravures and finely-executed wood engravings, constituting a complete pictorial
chronicle of Napoleon I.'s personal history from the days ot his early childhood
at Ajaccio to the date ofhis second interment.' — Daily Telegraph.
' Nearly all the illustrations are real contributions to tastory.'— Westminster Gazette.
Morris Fuller. THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JOHN
DAVENANT, D.D. (1571-1641), Bishop of Salisbury. By MORRIS
Fuller, B.D. Demy Svo. 10s. 6d.
J. M. Rigg. ST. ANSELM OF CANTERBURY : A Chapter
IN THE History of Religion. By J. M. Rigg. Demy Svo. 7s. 6d.
Mr. Rigg has told the story of the life with scholarly ability,. and has contributed
an interesting chapter to the history of the Norman period.' — Daily Chronicle.
F. W. Joyce. THE LIFE OF SIR FREDERICK GORE
OUSELEY. By F. W, Joyce, M,A. 7s. 6d.
' This book has been undertaken in quite the right spirit, and written with sympathy,
insight, and considerable literary skill.' — Times.
W, G. Collingwood. THE LIFE OF JOHN RUSKIN. By
W. G. Collingwood, M.A. With Portraits, and 13 Drawings by
Mr. Ruskin. Second Edition. 2 vols. Svo. S2S.
* No more magnificent volumes have been published for a long time.' — Times.
' It is long since we had a biography with such delights of substance and of form.
Such a book is a pleasure for the day, and a joy for ever.' — Daily Chronicle.
C. Waldstein. JOHN RUSKIN, By Charles Waldstein,
M.A. With a Photogravure Portrait. Post Svo. y,
'A thoughtful and well-written criticism of Ruskin's teaching.' — Daily Chronicle.
A.M.P.Darmesteter. THE LIFE OF ERNEST RENAN. By
Madame Darmesteter. With Portrait. Second Edition. Cr, Svo, 6s.
* A polished gem of biography, superior in its kind to any attempt that has been made
of recent years in England. Madame Darmesteter has indeed written for English
readers " The Life of Ernest Renan." ' — A thenaum.
' It is a fascinating and biographical and critical study, and an admirably finished
work of literary art.' — Scotstnan.
' It is interpenetrated with the dignity and charm, the mild, bright, classical grace of
form and treatment that Renan himself so loved ; and it fulfils to the uttermost
the delicate and difficult achievement it sets out to accomplish.' — Academy,
W. H. Hutton. THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. By
W. H. Hutton, M.A. With Portraits, Crown Svo, 5j.
• The book lays good claim to high rank among our biographies. It is excellently,
even lovingly, written,' — Scotsman. ' An exceUent monograph.' — Times.

Messrs. Methuen's List 15
Travel, Adventure and Topography
H. H. Johnston. BRITISH CENTRAL AFRICA. By Sir
H. H. Johnston, K.C.B, With nearly Two Hundred Illustrations,
and Six Maps. Second Edition. Crown ^to. yis.net.
'¦ A fascinating book, written with equal skill and charm— the work at once of a
llterMry artist and of a man of action who is singularly wise, brave, and experi
enced. It abounds in admirable sketches from pcpaV— Westminster Gazette.
A delightful book . . . collecting, within the covers of a single volume all that is
known of this part of our African domains. The voluminous appendices are of
extreme value.' — Manchester Guardian.
' The book takes front rank as a standard work by the one man competent to write-
it.' — Daily Chronicle.
L. Decle. THREE YEARS IN SAVAGE AFRICA. By
Lionel Decle. With loo Illustrations and 5 Maps. Second
Edition. Demy Svo. 21s.
• A fine, full book.'— Pall Malt Gazette.
* Abounding in thrilling adventures.' — Daily Telegraph.
' His book is profusely illustrated, and its bright pages give a better general survey
of Africa from the Cape to the Equator than any single volume that has yet been
published.' — Times.
'A' delightful book.' — Academy.
' Astonishingly frank. Every page deserves close attention.' — Literature.
* Unquestionably one of the most interesting books of travel which have recently
appeared.'^ — Standard.
' The honest impressions of a keen-eyed and intrepid traveller.' — Scotsman.
' Appealing powerfully to the popular imagination.' — GloSe.
Henri of Orleans. FROM TONKIN TO INDIA. By Prince
Henri of Orleans. Translated by Hamley Bent, M.A. With
100 Illustrations and a Map. Crown ^to, gilt top. 2y.
'A welcome contribution to our knowledge. The. narrative is full and interesting,
and the appendices give the work a substantial value.' — Times.
'The Prince's travels are of real importance .'. . his services to geography have been
considerable. The volume is beautifully illustrated.' — Athenteum.
R. S. S. Baden-Po'weU. THE DOWNFALL OF PREMPEH.
A Diary Of Life in Ashanti, 1895. By Colonel Baden-Powell.
With 21 Illustrations and a Map. Cheaper Edition. Large Crown
Svo. 6s.
' A compact, faithful, most readable record of the campaign.' — Daily Ne-ws.
R. S. S. Baden-Powell. THE MATABELE CAMPAIGN, 1896.
By Colonel Baden-Powell. With nearly 100 Illustrations. Cheaper
Edition. Large Crown Svo. 6s.
'As a straightforward account of a great deal of plucky work unpretentiously done,
this book is well worth reading.' — Times.
S. L. Hinde. THE FALL OF THE CONGO ARABS. By
S. L. Hinde, With Plans, etc. Demy Svo, 12s. 6d.
* The book is full of good things, and of sustained interest.' — St. Jameses Gazette.
' A graphic sketch of one of the most exciting and important episodes in the struggle
for supremacy in Central Africa between the Arabs and their European rivals.' —
Times.

i6 Messrs. Methuen's List
A. St. H. Gibbons. EXPLORATION AND HUNTING IN
CENTRAL AFRICA. . By Major A. St. H, Gibbons, F,R.G.S.
With 8 full-page Illustrations by C. Whymper, 25 Photographs and
Maps. Demy Svo. 1 y.
His book-is a grand record of quiet, unassuming, tactful resolution. His adven
tures were as various as his sporting exploits were exciting.' — Times,
E. H. Alderson. WITH THE MASHONALAND FIELD
FORCE, 1896. By Lieut. -Colonel Alderson. With numerous
Illustrations and Plans. Demy Svo, los, 6d.
*An interesting contribution to the story of the British Empire's growth.' — Daily
Neuos.
'A clear, vigorous, and soldier-like narrative.' — Scotsman,
Seymour Vandeleur. CAMPAIGNING ON THE UPPER
NILE AND NIGER. By Lieut. Seymour Vandeleur. With
an Introduction by Sir G. Goldie, K.C.M.G. With 4 Maps,
Illustrations, and Plans. Large Crown Svo. los. 6d.
Upon the African question there is no book procurable which contains so much of
value as this one.' — Guardian.
Lord Fincastle. A FRONTIER CAMPAIGN, By the Viscount
Fincastle, V.C, and Lieut. P. C. Elliott-Lockhart. With a
Map and 16 Illustrations. Second Edition. CrownSvo. 6s.
'An admirable book, combining in a volume a piece of pleasant reading for the
general reader, and a really valuable treatise on frontier war.' — Athenteum.
J. K. Trotter. THE NIGER SOURCES. By Colonel J. K.
Trotter, R. A. With a Map and Illustrations. Crown Svo. ^s,
'A most interesting as well as a lucidly and modestly written book.' — Spectator,
Michael Davitt. LIFE AND PROGRESS IN AUSTRAL
ASIA. By Michael Davitt, M.P. With 2 Maps. Cro%vnSvo.
6s. 500 pp.
' An interesting and suggestive work.' — Daily Chronicle.
'Contains an astonishing amount of practical information.' — Daily Mail.
' One ofthe most valuable contributions to our store of Imperial literature that has
been published for a very long time.' — Pall Mall Gazette.
W. Crooke. THE NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES OF
INDIA : Their Ethnology and Administration. By W.
Crooke. With Maps and Illustrations. Demy Svo, los. 6d.
* A carefully and well-written account of one of the most iraportant provinces of the
Empire. ^ Mr. Crooke deals with the land in its physical aspect, the province
underHindoo and Mussulman rule, under British rule, its ethnology and sociology,
its religious and social life, the land .and its settlement, and the native peasant.
The illustrations are good, and the map is exc^Went.' —Manchester Guardian.
A, Boisragon. THE BENIN MASSACRE. By Captain
Boisragon. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 3^. 6d,
* If the story h,ad been written four hundred years ago it would be read to-day as an
English classic' — Scotsman.
'If anything could enhance the horror and the pathos of this remarkable book it is
the simple style of the author, who writes as he would talk, unconscious of his
own heroism, with an artlessness which is the highest art,' — Pall Mall Gazette.

Messrs. Methuen's List 17
H. S. Cowper. THE HILL OF THE GRACES : or, the Great
Stone Temples of Tripoli. By H. S. Cowper, F.S.A. With
Maps, Flans, and 75 Illustrations. Demy Svo. 10s. 6d.
Forms a valuable chapter of what has now become quite a large and important
branch of antiquarian research.' — Times.
W. Kinnaird Rose. WITH THE GREEKS IN THESSALY.
By W. Kinnaird Rose, Renter's Correspondent. With Plans and
23 Illustrations. Crown Svo. 6s.
W. B. Worsfold. SOUTH AFRICA. By W. B. WorSfold,
M.A. With a Map. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
* A monumental work compressed into a very moderate compass.' — World.
Naval and Military
G. W. Steevens. NAVAL POLICY : By. G. W. Steevens.
Demy Svo. 6s.
This book is a description of the British and other more important navies of the world,
with a sketch of the lines on which our naval policy might possibly be developed.
'An extremely able and interesting work.' — Daily Chronicle.
D. Hannay. A SHORT HISTORY OF THE ROYAL NAVY,
From Early Times to the Present Day. By David Hannay.
Illustrated. 2 Vols. Demy Svo. 7s. 6d. each. Vol. I., 1200-1688.
* We read it from cover to cover at a sitting,, and those who go to it for a lively and
brisk picture of the past, with all its faults and its grandeur, willnot be disappomted.
The historian is endowed with literary skill and style.' — Standard.
* We can warmly recommend Mr. Hannay's volume to any intelligent student of
naval history. Great as is the merit of Mr. Hannay's historical narrative, the
merit ofhis strategic exposition is even greater.' — Times.
C.Cooper King. THE STORY OF THE BRITISH ARMY. By
Colonel Cooper King, Illustrated. Demy Svo. 7's. 6d.
* An authoritative and accurate story of England's mihtary^ progress.' — Daily Mail.
* This handy volume contains, in a compendious form, a brief but adequate sketch of
the story of the British vnay.'— Daily News.
R. Southey. ENGLISH SEAMEN (Howard, Cliffora, Hawkins,
Drake, CaveniJish). By Robert Southey. Edited, with an
Introduction, by David Hannay. Second Edition. CrownSvo. 6s.
'Admirable and well-told stories of our naval history.' — Army and Navy Gazette.
* A brave, inspiriting book.' — Black and White.
W. Clark Russell. THE LIFE OF ADMIRAL LORD COL
LINGWOOD. By W. Clark Russell, With Illustrations by
F. Brangwyn. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' A book which we should like to see in the hands of every hoy in the country.'—
St. lames's Gazette. ' A really good hooW— Saturday Review.
E. t. S. Horsburgh. THE CAMPAIGN OF WATERLOO.
By E. L. S. Horsburgh, B. A. With Plans. Crown Svo. y.
'A brilliant essay — simple, sound, and thoroagh.'—Daity Chronicle.
A3

1 8 Messrs. Methuen's List
H.B. George. BATTLES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. ByH. B.
George, M.A., Fellow of New College, Oxford. With numerous
Plans. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Mr. George has undertaken a very useful task — that of making military affairs in
telligible and instructive to non-military readers — and has executed it wich laud
able intelligence and industry, and with a large measure of success.' — Times.
General Literature
S. Baring Gould. OLD COUNTRY LIFE. By S. Baring
Gould. With Sixty-seven Illustrations. Large Crown Svo. Fifth
Edition. 6s.
' " Old Country Life," as healthy wholesome reading, full of breezy life and move
ment, fuUofquaintstories vigorously told, will not be excelled by any book to be
published throughout the year. Sound, hearty, and EngUsh to the core. ' — World.
S. Baring Gould. HISTORIC ODDITIES AND STRANGE
EVENTS. By S. Baring Gould. Fourth Edition. CrownSvo. 6s.
' A collection of exciting and. entertaining chapters. The whole volume is delightful
reading.' — Times,
S. Baring Gould. FREAKS OF FANATICISM. By S. Baring
Gould. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s,
' A perfectly fascinating book.' — Scottish Leader.
S. Baring Gould. A GARLAND OF COUNTRY SONG :
English Folk Songs with their Traditional Melodies. Collected and
arranged by S. Baring Gould and H. F. Sheppard. Demy 4/0. 6s.
S. Baring Gould. SONGS OF THE WEST: Traditional
Ballads and Songs of the West of England, with their Melodies.
Collected by S. Baring Gould, M.A., and H. F. Sheppard,
M.A. In 4 Parts. Parts I., II., III., y. each. Part IV., y.
In one Vol., French morocco, \y.
' A rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic fancy.' — Saturday Revieiv.
S. Baring Gould. YORKSHIRE ODDITIES AND STRANGE
EVENTS. By S. Baring Gould. Fourth Edition. Crown Svo.
6s.
S. Baring Gould. STRANGE SURVIVALS AND SUPER
STITIONS. By S. Baring Gould. CrownSvo. Second Edition.
6s.
S. Baring Gould. THE DESERTS OF SOUTHERN
FRANCE. By S. Baring. Gould. 2 vols. Demy Svo. 32^-.
Cotton Minchin. OLD HARROW DAYS. By J. G. Cotton
Minchin. CrownSvo. Second Edition, y.
'This book is an adipirable KCoti.'— Daily Chronicle.

Messrs. Methuen's List i$
W. E. Gladstone. THE SPEECHES OF THE RT. HON.
W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P. Edited by A. W. Hutton, M.A. ,
and H. J. Cohen, M.A. With Portraits. Demy Svo. Vols. IX.
and X. 12S. 6d. each.
E. V. Zenker. ANARCHISM. By E. V. Zenker. Demy Svo.
7s. 6d.
'Well-written, and full of shrewd comments.' — The Speaker.
' Herr Zenker has succeeded in producing a careful and critical history of the growth
of Anarchist theory. He is to be congratulated upon a really interesting work.' —
Literature.
H. a, Hutchinson. THE GOLFING PILGRIM. By Horace
G. Hutchinson. Crown Svo. 6s,
* Full of useful information with plenty of good stories.' — Truth,
* Without this hook the golfer's library will be incomplete.'— Pall Mall Gazette,
* We can recommend few books as better company.' — St. James's Gazette.
' It mil charm.all golfers.] — Times,
'^Decidedly pleasant reading.' — Athenteum.
J. Wells. OXFORD AND OXFORD LIFE. By Members of
the University. Edited by J. Wells, M.A., FeUow and Tutor of
Wadham College. Crown Svo. 3j. 6d.
' We congratulate Mr. Wells on the production of a readable and intelligent account
of Oxford as it is at the present time, written by persons who are possessed of a
close acquaintance with the system and life ofthe XJnvttxsity.'—Athenaum,
J.Wells. OXFORD AND ITS COLLEGES. By J. Wells, M. A.,
Fellow and Tutor of Wadham College. Illustrated by E. H. New.
Second Edition. Fcap. Svo. y. Leather, y. 6d. net. ¦
* An admirable and accurate little treatise, attractively illustrated.' — World.
* A luminous and tasteful little volume.' — Daily Chronicle.
* Exactly what the intelligent visitor wants.'— Glasgow Herald.
C. G. Eobertson. VOCES ACADEMICS. By C. Grant
' Robertson, M. A., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford. With a Frontis
piece, Pott. Svo. y. 6d.
* Decidedly clever and amusing.' — A thentsum.
' A clever and entertaining little book.'— /"a// Mall Ctizette.
L. Whibley. GREEK OLIGARCHIES : THEIR ORGANISA
TION AND CHARACTER. By L. Whibley, M.A., Fellow
of Pembroke College, Cambridge. Crown Svo. 6s.
'An exceedingly useful handbook : a careful and well-arranged study.'— Times.
L. L. Price. ECONOMIC SCIENCE AND PRACTICE,
By L. L- Price, M.A., Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. Crown
Svo. 6s.
J. S. Shedlock. THE PIANOFORTE SONATA: Its Origin
and Development. By J. S. Shedlock. Crown Svo. Ss.
. ' This work should be in the possession of every musician and amateur. A concise
and lucid history and a very valuable work for reference.'—.^ thenteum.
E.M. Bowden. THE EXAMPLE OF BUDDHA: Being Quota
tions from Buddhist Literature for each Day in the Year. Comjiiled
by E. M. Bowden. Third Edition. l6mo. 2s. 6d.

20 Messrs. Methuen's List
Science and Technology
Freudenreich. DAIRY BACTERIOLOGY. A Short Manual
for the Use of Students. By Dr. Ed. VON Freudenreich.
Translated by J. R. Ainsworth Davis, B.A. CrownSvo. 2s.6d.
Chalmers MitcheU. OUTLINES OF BIOLOGY. By P.
Chalmers Mitchell, M.A., Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6s.
A text-book designed to cover the new Schedule issued by the Royal College of
Physicians and Surgeons.
G.Massee. A MONOGRAPH OF THE MYXOGASTRES. By
George Masseb. With 12 Coloured Plates. Eoyal Svo, iSs. net.
A work much in advance of any book in the language treating of this group of
organisms. Indispensable to every student of the Myxogastres. '— ir<z/«rtf.
Stephenson and Suddards. ORNAMENTAL DESIGN FOR
WOVEN FABRICS. By C. Stephenson, of The Technical
College, Bradford, and F. Suddards, of The Yorkshire College,
Leeds. With 65 full-page plates. Demy Svo, '/s. 6d,
'The book is very ably done, displaying^ an intimate knowledge of principles, good
taste, and the faculty of clear exposition.' — Yorkshire Post
HANDBOOKS OF TECHNOLOGY.
Edited by Professors GARNETT and WERTHEIMER.
HOW TO MAKE A DRESS. By J. A. E. Wood.
Illustrated. Crown Svo. Is. 6d.
A text-book for students preparing for the City and Guilds examination, based on
the syllabus. The diagrams are numerous.
' Though primarily intended for students, Miss Wood's dainty little manual may be
consulted with advantage by any girls who want to make their own frocks. The
directions are simple and clear, and the diagrams very helpful,' — Literature.
* A splendid little book.' — Evening News.

Philosophy

L. T. Hobhouse. THE THEORY OF KNOWLEDGE. By
L. T. HoBHOUSB, Fellow of CCC, Oxford. Demy Svo. 2is.
' The most important contribution to English philosophy since the publication of Mr.
Bradley's " Appearance and Reality." ' — Glasgow Herald.
' A brilliantly written volume.' — Times.
W. H. Fairbrother. THE PHILOSOPHY OF T. H. GREEN.
By W. H. Fairbrother, M.A. Crown Svo. y. 6d.
' In every way an admirable book.' — Gltisgow Herald.
F. W. Bussell. THE SCHOOL OF PLATO. By F. W.
Bussell, D.D., Fellow of Brasenose College, Oxford. Demy Svo.
10s. 6d.
' A highly valuable contribution to the history of ancient thought.'— G/aj^ow Herald.
'A clever and stimulating '\iOO^,— Manchester Guardian.

Messrs. Methuen's List 21
F. S. Granger, the worship of THE ROMANS. By
F. S. G;?ANQJ», M.A., LUtD., Professor of PhUosophy at Univer
sity College, Nottingham. Crown Svo. 6s.
A scholarly analysis ofthe religious j:ereinonie5,beliefs, aiid superstitions of ancient
Rome, conducted In the newlight of comparative anthropology. '—yi'/^Cf.
Theology
1&anM)oofts of ^beologs.
General Editor, A. Robertson, D.D., Principal of King's College,
London.
THE XXXIX. ARTICLES OF THE CHURCH OF ENG
LAND. Edited with an Introduction by E. C S. Gibson, D.D.,
Vicar of Leeds, late Principal of Wells Theological College. Second
and Cheaper Edition in One Volume. Demy Svo. 12s. 6d.
' Dr. Gibson is a master of clear and orderly exposition. And he has in a high
degree a quality very necessary, bat rarely found, in commentators ori this topic,
that-of absolute fairness. His book is pre-eminently honest.' — Times.
.^e^asirvey of the whole bopk, we can bearwitpess to, the transparent honesty
' ' of purpose, evident industry, and clearness of. style which mark its contents.
They maintain throughout a very high level of doctrine and tone.' — Guardian.
' The most convenient and most acceptably commjEiiitary.' — Expository Times.
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HISTORY OF RELIGION.
By F. B. Jevons, M.A., Litt.D., Principal of Bishop Hatfield's
Hall. Demy Svo. lOs. 6d.
* Dr. Jevons has written a notable work, which we can strongly recommend to the
serious attention of theologians and anthropologists.' — Manchester Guardian.
' The ^erit of this book lies in th^ penetration, the singular acuteness and force of the
author's judgment. He is at once critical and luminoas, at once just and suggestive.
A comprehensive andthdrough hook.' — BirTningham Post,
THE DOCTRINE OF THE INCARNATION. By R. L.
OTTLyy, M.A. , late fellow of M^dalen College, Oxon., and Principal
of Pusey House. In Two Volumes. Demy Svo. ly.
* Learned and reyerent : lucid and well arranged.' — Record.
'A clear and remarkably full account of the main currents of speculation. Scholarly
precision . . . genuine tolerance- . . . intense interest in his subject — are Mr.
Ottley's m^erit^. '—Guardian. trbe Cburcbman's Xibrarg.
Edited by J. H. BURN, B.D.
THE BEGINNINGS OF ENGLISH CHRISTIANITY. By
W. E. Collins, M.A., Professor of Ecclesiastical History at King's
College, London. With Map. CrownSvo. 3s. pd., .
An investigation in detail, based upon original authorities, of the begionings of the
English Chnrch, with a careful account of earlier Celtic Christianity. Some very
full appendices treat of a number of special subjects.
•An excellent example of thorough and fresh historical vork.'— Guardian.
SOME NEW TESTAMENT PROBLEMS. By Arthur
Weight, Fellow of Queen's College, Cambridge. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Bold and ouUpoken ; earnest and reverent.'— G/««»a; Herald.

22 Messrs. Methuen's List
S. R. Driver. SERMONS ON SUBJECTS CONNECTED
WITH THE OLD TESTAMENT. By S. R. Driver, D.D.,
Canon of Christ Church, Regius Professor of Hebrew in the Uni
versity of Oxford, Crown Svo. 6s.
' A welcome companion to the author's famous ' Introduction.' — Guardian.
T. K. Cheyne. FOUNDERS OF OLD TESTAMENT CRITI
CISM. By T. K. Cheyne, D.D., Oriel Professor at Oxford.
Large crown Svo. 7s. 6d.
A historical sketch of O. T. Criticism.
* A very learned and instructive work.' — Times.
H.H. Henson. DISCIPLINE AND LAW. By H. Hensley
Henson, B.D., Fellow of All Souls', Oxford; Incumbent of St.
Mary's Hospital, Ilford ; Chaplain to the Bishop of St. Albans.
Fcap. Svo. 2s. 6d.
' An admirable little volume of Lent addresses. We warmly commend the general
drift of Mr. Henson's book.' — Guardian.
H. H. Henson. LIGHT AND LEAVEN : Historical and
Social Sermons. By H. Hensley Henson, M.A. Crown Svo.
6s.
'They are always reasonable as well as vigorous.' — Scotsman.
W. H. Bennett. A PRIMER OF THE BIBLE. By Prof.
W. H. Bennett. Second Edition, Crown Svo, 2s. 6d,
'The work of an honest, fearless, and sound critic, and an excellent guide in a small
compass to the books of the Bible.' — Manchester Guardian^
' A unique primer.* — English Churchman.
CHPrior. CAMBRIDGE SERMONS. Edited by C. H. Prior,
M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Pembroke College. Crown Svo. 6s.
A volume of sermons preached before the University of Cambridge by various
preachers, including the late Archbishop of Canterbury and Bishop Westcott.
Cecilia Robinson. THE MINISTRY OF DEACONESSES.
By Deaconess Cecilia Robinson. With an Introduction by the
Lord Bishop of Winchester and an Appendix by Professor Armitage
Robinson. Crown Svo. y. 6d.
*A learned and interesting book, combining with no ordinary skill the authority of
learned research with the practical utility of a descriptive manual of parish work.'
— Scotsman.
E.B. Layard. RELIGION IN BOYHOOD. Notes on the
Religious Training of Boys. By E. B. Layard, M.A. iSmo. is.
W. Yorke Fausset. THE DE CATECHIZANDIS
RUDIBUS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Edited, with Introduction,
Notes, etc., by W. YoRKE Fausset, M.A. Crown Svo. y. 6d.
An edition of a Treatise on the Essentials of Christian Doctrine, and the best
methods of impressing them on candidates for baptism.
F.Weston. THE HOLY SACRIFICE. By F. Weston, M.A.,
Curate of St. Matthew's, Westminster. Pott Svo. is.
A small volume of devotions at the Holy Communion, especially adapted to the
needs of servers and those who do not communicate.

Messrs. Methuen's List 23'
A Kempis. THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. By Thomas k
Kemfis. With an Introduction by Dean Farrar. Illustrated by
C. M. Gere, and printed in black and red. Second Edition. Fcap.
Svo. Buckram, y. 6d. Padded morocco, y.
'Amongst all the innumerable English editions of the "Imitation," there can have
been few which were prettier than this one, printed in strong and handsome type,
with all the glory of red initials.' — Glasgow Herald.
J. Keble. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By John Keble. With an
Introduction and Notes by W. Lock, D. D. , Warden of Keble College,
Ireland Professor at Oxford. Illustrated by R. Anning Bell.
Second Edition. Fcap. Svo. Buckram, y. 6d. Padded morocco, y.
* The present edition is annotated with all the care and insight to be expected from
Mr. Lock. The progress and circumstances of its composition are det^led in the
Introduction. There_ is an interesting A[)pendix on the MSS. of the " Christian
Year," and another giving the order in which the poems were written. A "Short
Analysis of the Thought' is prefixed to each, and any difficulty in the text is ex
plained in a note.' — (^tardian.-
tlbe SLlbrarg of Devotion.
Pott Svo. 2s.; leather, 2s. 6d. net.
* This series is excellent.' — The Bishop op London.
' A vety delightful edition.' — ^The Bishop of Bath and Wells.
' Well worth the attention of the Clergy.'— The Bishop of Lichfield.
• The new " Library of Devotion " is excellent.'— The Bishop of PETERBOROncH.
* Charming.' — Record.
' BeHshtCaV— Church Bells.
THE CONFESSIONS OF ST. AUGUSTINE. Newly
Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by C. Bigg, D.D.,
late Student of Christ Church.
' The translation is an excellent piece of English, and the introduction is a masterly
exposition. We augur well of a series which begins so satisfactorily.] — Times.
* No translation has appeared in so convenient a form, and none, we think, evidenc
ing so true, so delicate, so feeling a touch.' — Birminghavi Post.
' Dr, Bigg has made a new and vigorous translation, and has enriched the text with
a luminous introduction and pithy notes.' — Speaker.
THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. By John Keble. With Intro
duction and Notes by Walter Lock, D.D., Warden of Keble
College, Ireland Professor at Oxford.
''So piettia\iodk.co\M.hedesixeA.'— Manchester Guardian.
' The volume is very prettily bound and printed, and may fairly claim to be an
advance on any previous editions.' — Guardian.
' The introduction is admirable, and admirers of Keble will be greatly interested in
the chronological list ofthe poems.' — Bookman.'
THE IMITATION OF CHRIST. A Revised Translation,
with an Introduction, by C. BiGG, D.D., late Student of Christ
Church.
Dr. Bigg has made a practically new translation of this bocfc which the reader will
have, almost for the first time, exactly in the shape in which it left the hands of
the author. . , . .«...,.,.
'The text is at once scholarly in its faithful reproduction in English of the sonorous
Church Latin in which the original is composed, and popular in the sense of bemg
simple and intelligible.' — Scotsman.

24 Messrs. Methuen's List
?Leatier0 ot Eeliffion
EditedbyH.C. BEECHING, M. A. With Portraits, crown Svo. y.6d.
A series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders of religious
life and thought of all ages and countries.
The following are ready —
CARDINAL NEWMAN. By R. H. HUTTON.
JOHN WESLEY. By J. H. OVERTON, M.A.
BISHOP WILBERFORCE. By G. W. Daniel, M.A.
CARDINAL MANNING. By A. W. Hutton, M.A.
CHARLES SIMEON. By H. C. G. MoULE, D.D.
JOHN KEBLE. By Walter Lock, D.D.
THOMAS CHALMERS. By Mrs. Oliphant.
LANCELOT ANDREWES. By R. L. Ottley, M.A.
AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY. By E. L. CUTTS, D.D.
WILLIAM LAUD. By W. H. HUTTON, B.D.
JOHN KNOX. By F. M'CUNN.
JOHN HOWE. By R. F. Horton, D.D.
BISHOP KEN. By F. A. Clarke, M.A.
GEORGE FOX, THE QUAKER. By T. HODGKiN, D.C.L.
JOHN DONNE. By AUGUSTUS Jessopp, D.t).
THOMAS CRANMER. By A. J. Mason.
Other volumes will be announced in due course.
Fiction
SIX SHILLING NOVELS
Marie OoreUi's Novels
Crown Svo. 6s. each.
A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS. Seventeenth Edilion.
VENDETTA. Fourteenth Edition.
THELMA. Eighteenth Edition.
ARDATH. Eleventh Edition.
THE SOUL OF LILITH Ninth Edition.
WORMWOOD. Eighth Edition.
BARABBAS : A DREAM OF THE WORLD'S TRAGEDY
Thirty-second Edition.
' The tender reverence of the treatment and the imaginative beauty of the writing
have reconciled us to the daring of the conception, and the conviction is forced on
us that even so exalted a subject cannot be made too familiar to us, provided it be
presented in the true spirit of Christian f£uth. The amplifications of the Scripture
narrative are often conceived with high poetic insight, and this "Dream of the
World's Tragedy" is a lofty and not inadequate paraphrase of the supreme
climax ofthe inspired narrative.' — Dublin Review.
THE SORROWS OF SATAN. Thirty-eighth Edition.
' A very powerful piece of work. . . . The conception is magnificent, and is likely
to win an abiding place within ths memory of man. . . . The author has immense
command of language, and a limitless audacity. . . . This interesting and re
markable romance will live long after much of the ephemeral literature of the day
is forgotten. ... A literary phenomenon . . . novel, and even sublime.' — W. T.
Stbad in the Review 0/ Reviews.

Messrs. Methuen's List 25
Anthony Hope's Novels
Crown Svo. 6s. each.
flE GOD IN THE CAR. Seventh Edition.
' -^ ^?? remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis impos^ble within our limit ;
brilliant, but not superficial ; well considered, but not elaborated ; constructed
with the proverbial art that conceals, but yet allows itself to be enjoyed by readers
to whom fine literary method is a keen pleasure.'— The Wirrld.
CHANGE OF AIR. Fifth Edition.
A graceful, vivacious comedy, true to human nature. The characters are traced
with a masterly hand.' — Times.
MAN OF MARK, Fourth Edition.
Of all Mr. Hope's books, "A Man of Mark" is the one which best compares with
' ' The Prisoner of Zenda." ' — National Observer.
HE CHRONICLES OF COUNT ANTONIO. Third Edition.
* It is a perfectly enchanting story of love and chivalry, and pure romance. The
Count IS the most constant, desperate, and modest and tender of lovers, a peerless
gentleman, aa intrepid fighter, a faithful friend, and a magnanimous foe.'-;—
Guardian,
fIROSO. Illustrated by H. R. Millar.^ TMrd Edition,
' The tale is thoroughly fresh, quick with vitality, stirring the blood, and humorously,
dashing\y to\d.'— St. James's Gazette.
' A story of adventure, every page of which is palpitating withsL^on.'^— Speaker,
' From cover to cover " Phroso " not only engages the attention, but carries the reader
in little whirls of delight from adventure to adventure.' — Academy.
MON DALE. By Anthony Hope. Illustrated. Third
Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' " Simon Dale " is one of the best historical romances that have been written for a
long while.' — St. James's Gazette.
' A bright and gallant story.' — Graphic,
'A brilliant novel. The story is rapid and most excellently told. As for the hero,
he is a peffect hero of romance— he is brave, witty, adventurous, and a good
lover.' — A theneBum.
' There is searching analysis of human nature, \^dth a most ingeniously constructed
plot, Mr. Hope has drawn the contrasts of his women with ipa^vellous subtlety
and delicacy. This love-story of zoo years ago makes the man and the woman
live again,' — Times, S. Baring Gould's Novels
Crown Svo. 6s. each,
' To say that a book is by the author of " Mehalah" is tb imply that it contains a
story cast on strong lines, containing dramatic possibilities, vivid and sympathetic
descriptions of Nature, and a wealth of ingenious im^%,'&ry.'— Speaker.
That whatever Mr. Baring Gould writes is well worth reading, is a conclusion that
may be very generally accepted. His views of life are fresh and vigorous, his
language pointed and characteristic, the incident^ of which he makes use are
striking and original, his characters are life-like, and though somewhat excep
tional people, are drawn and coloured with artistic force. Add to this that his
descriptions of scenes and scenery are painted with the loving eyes and skilled
hands of a master of his art, that he is always fresh and never dull, a.nd it is
no wonder that readers have gained confidence in his power of amusing and
satisfying them, and that year by year his popularity widens.'— Ciwr^ Circular.
iMINELL. Fourth Edition,
RITH. Fifth Edition.
\ THE ROAR OF THE SEA, Sixth Edition.
RS. CURGENVEN OF CURGENVEN. Fourth Edition.

26 Messrs. Methuen's List
CHEAP JACK ZITA. Fourth Edition.
THE QUEEN OF LOVE. Fourth Edition.
MARGERY OF QUETHER. Third Edition.
JACQUETTA. Third Edition.
KITTY ALONE. Fifth Edition.
NO^MI. Illustrated by R. C. Woodville. Third Edition.
THE BROOM-SQUIRE. Illustrated by F Dadd. Fourth
Edition.
THE PENNYCOMEQUICKS. Third Edition.
DARTMOOR IDYLLS.
GUAVAS THE TINNER. Illustrated by F. Dadd. Second
Edition.
BLADYS. Illustrated. Second Edition.
Gilbert Parker's Novels
Crown Svo. 6s. each.
PIERRE AND HIS PEOPLE. Fourth Edition.
' Stories happily conceived and finely executed. There is strength and genius in Mr.
Parker's style.' — Daily Telegrctph.
MRS. FALCHION. Fourth Edition.
' A splendid study of character.' — A thenteum.
• But little behind anything that has been done by any writer of our time.' — Pall
Mall Gazette. 'A very striking and admirable novel.' — St. James's Gazette.
THE TRANSLATION OF A SAVAGE.
' The plot is original and one difficult to work out ; but Mr. Parker has done it with
great skill and delicacy. The reader who is not interested in this original, fresh,
and well-told tale must be a dull person indeed.' — Daily Chronicle,
THE TRAIL OF THE SWORD. Illustrated. Sixth Edition.
' A rousing and dramatic tale. A book Hke this, in which swords flash, great sur
prises are undertaken, and daring deeds done, in which men and women live and
love in the old passionate way, is a joy inexpressible .' — Daily Chronicle.
WHEN VALMOND CAME TO PONTIAC : The Story of
a Lost Napoleon. Fourth Edition,
' Here we find romance — real, breathing, living romance. The character of Valmond
is drawn unerringly.^ The book must be read, we may say re-read, for any one
thoroughly to appreciate Mr. Parker's delicate touch and innate sympathy with
humanity.' — Pall Mall Gazette.
AN ADVENTURER OF THE NORTH: The Last Adven
tures of * Pretty Pierre.* Second Edition.
* The present book is full of fine and moving stories of the great North, and it will ,
add to Mr. Parker's already high reputation.'— G/flyr^(7w Herald.
THE SEATS OF THE MIGHTY. Illustrated. Ninth Edition,
' The best thing he has done ; one of the best things that any one has done lately.' —
St. Javtes's Gazette.
' Mr. Parker seems to become stronger and easier with every serious novel that he
attempts. He shows the matured power which his former novels have led us to
expect, and has produced a really fine historical novel.' — Athenteum.
* A great hooV.'— Black and White.
'One of the strongest stories of historical interest and adventure that we have read
for many a day. ... A notable and successful book.' — Speaker.

Messrs, Methuen's List 27
THE POMP OF THE LAVILETTES. Second Edition. y.6d
' Living, breathing romance, genuine and unforced pathos, and a deeper and more
subtle knowledge of human nature than Mr. Parker has ever displayed before
It is, in a word, the work of a true artist.'— ^«// Malt Gazette.

Oonan Doyle. ROUND THE RED LAMP. By A. Conan
Doyle. Fifth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' The book is far and away the best view that has been vouchsafed us behind the
scenes of the consulting-room.' — Illustrated London Nevis.
Stanley Weyman. UNDER THE RED ROBE. By Stanley
Weyman, Author of 'A Gentleman of France.' With Illustrations
by R. C. Woodville. Fourteenth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
* A book ofwhich we have read every word for the sheer pleasure of reading, and
which we put dovm with a pang that we cannot forget it all and start again.' — ¦
Westminster Gazette.
* Every one who reads books at all must read this thrilling romance, from^ the first
page of which to the last the breathless^eader is haled along. An inspiration of
manliness and courage.' — Daily Chronicle, i
Lucas Malet. THE • WAGES OF SIN. By Lucas
Malet. Thirteenth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
Lucas Malet. THE CARI SS I MA. By Lucas Malet,
Author of ' The Wages of Sin,' etc. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
S. R. Crockett. LOCHINVAR. By S. R. Crockett, Author
of ' The Raiders, ' etc. Illustrated. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Full of gallantry and pathos, of the clash of arms, and brightened by episodes of
humour and love. . . . Mr. Crockett bas never written. a stronger or better book.'
— Westminster Gazette.
S. R. Crockett. THE STANDARD BEARER. By S. R.
Crockett. Crown Svo. 6s.
' A delightful tale in his best style.' — Speaker.
* Mr. Crockett at his best.' — Literature.
' Enjoyable and of absorbing interest.' — Scotsman.
Arthur Morrison. TALES OF MEAN STREETS. By Arthur
Morrison. Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Told with consummate art and extraordinary detail. In the true humanity of the
book lies its justification, the permanence of its interest, and its indubitable
triumph.' — Athtnaum. ... , ....
' A great book. The author's method is amazingly effective, and produces a thrilhng
sense of reality. The writer lays upon us a master hand. The book is simply
appalling and irresistible in its interest. It is humorous also ; without humour
it would not make the mark it is certain to mUtx.' —World.
Arthur Morrison. A CHILD OF THE JAGO. By Arthur
Morrison. 'Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
• The book is a masterpiece.'— /"(j// Mall Gazette.
' Told with great vigour and powerful simplicity. — Athenteum.

28 Messrs, Methuen's List
Mrs. Clifford. A FLASH OF SUMMER. By Mrs. W. K. Clif
ford, Author of ' Aunt Anne,' etc. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' The story is a very beautiful one, exquisitely told.' — Speaker.
Emily Lawless. HURRISH. By the Honble. Emily Law
less, Author of ' Maelcho,' etc. • Fifth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
Emily Lawless. MAELCHO : a Sixteenth Century Romance.
By the Honble. Emily Lawless. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
• A really great book.' — Spectator.
'There IS no keener pleasure in life than the recognition of genius. A piece of work
of the first order, which we do not hesitate to describe as one of the most
remarkable literary achievements of this generation.' — Manchester Guardian.
Emily Lawless. TRAITS AND CONFIDENCES. By The
Honble. Emily Lawless. Crown Svo. 6s.
* A very charming little volume. A book which cannot be read without pleasure and
prom, written in excellent English, full of delicate spirit, and a keen appreciation
of nature, human and inanimate.' — Pall Malt Gazette,
Jane Birlow. A CREEL OF IRISH STORIES. By Jane
Barlow, Author of ' Irish Idylls. ' Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Vivid and singularly real.' — Scotsman.
J. H. Findlater. THE GREEN GRAVES OF BALGOWRIE.
By Janb H. Findlater. Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
* A powerful and vivid story.* — Standard.
* A beautiful story, sad and strange as truth itself.' — Vanity Fair.
' A very charming and pathetic tale.' — Pall Mall Gazette,
' A singularly original, clever, and beautiful story.' — Guardian.
* Reveals to us a new writer of undoubted facult}^ and reserve force.' — Spectator.
'An exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and beautiful.' — Bltick and White.
J. H. Findlater. A DAUGHTER OF STRIFE. By Jane
Helen Findlater. Crown Svo. 6s.
* a story of strong human interest.' — Scotsman.
' Her thought has solidity and maturity,' — Daily Mail.
Mary Findlater. OVER THE HILLS. By Mary Findlater.
Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' A strong and fascinating piece of work.' — Scotsman.
' A charming romance, and full of incident. The book is fresh and strong.' — Speaker.
' Win make the author's name loved in many a household.' — Literary World.
'A stroag and wise book of deep insight and unflinching t-mth.'— Birmingham Posi.
H. G. Wells. THE STOLEN BACILLUS, and other Stories.
By H. G. Wells. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' They are the impressions of a very striking imagination, which, it would seem, has
a great deal within its leadi.'— Saturday Review.

MESSRS. Methuen's List 29
H. Q. WeUs. THE PLATTNER STORY and Others. By H.
G. Wells. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Weird and mysterious, they seem to hold the reader as by a magic speW— Scotsman.
' No volume has appeared for a long time so likely to give equal pleasure to the
simplest reader and to the most fastidious oitK.'—'Acaden'y.
Sara Jeanette Duncan. A VOYAGE OF CONSOLATION.
By Sara Jeanette Duncan, Author of 'An American Girl in
London. ' Illustrated. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Humour, pure and spontaneous and irresistible.' — Daily Mail.
' A most delightfully bright hook.'— Daily Telegraph.
' Eminently amusing and entertaining.* — Outlook.
'The dialogue is full of wit.' — Globe.
' Laughter lurks in every page.' — Daily News.
E. F. Benson. DODO : A DETAIL OF THE DAY. By E. F.
Benson. Sixteenth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' A delightfully witty sketch of society.* — Spectator.
' A perpetual feast of epigram and paradox.*— j'^o^tr-
E. F. Benson. THE RUBICON. By E. F. Benson, Author of
•Dodo." Fifth Edition. CrownSvo. 6s..
E. F. Benson. THE VINTAGE. By E. F. Benson. Author
of 'Dodo.' Illustrated by G. P. Jacomb-Hood. Third Edition.
Crown Svo, 6s,
'An excellent piece of romantic literature; a very graceful and moving story. We
are struck with the close observation of life in Greece. ' — Saturday Review,
' Full of fire, earnestness, and beauty.' — The World._
' An original and vigorous historical romance. * — Moming Post.
Mrs. Oliphant. SIR ROBERT'S FORTUNE. By Mrs.
Oliphant. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Full ofher own peculiar charm of styleand character-painting. '—Pall Mall Gazette.
Mrs. Oliphant, THE TWO MARYS. By Mrs. Oliphant.
Second Edition. Croivn Svo, 6s.
Mrs. Oliphant. THE LADY'S WALK. By Mrs. Oliphant.
Second Edition. Crown Svo, 6s.
'A story of exquisite tenderness, of most delicate fancy.' — Pall Malt Gazette.
W.E. Norris. MATTHEW AUSTIN. By W. E. Norris, Author
of ' Mademoiselle de Mersac,' etc. Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
'An intellectually satisfactory and morally bracing noyzi.'— Daily Telegraph.
W. E. Norris. HIS GRACE. By W. E. Norris. Third
Edition, Crown Svo, 6s.
'Mr. Norris has drawn a really fine character in the Duke of Hurstboume. —
Athentxum.
W. E. Norris. THE DESPOTIC LADY AND OTHERS.
By W. E. Norris. Croiun Saio. 6s.
' A budget of good fiction ofwhich no one will tite.'— Seottman.

30 Messrs. Methuen's List
W. E. Norris. CLARISSA FURIOSA. By W. E. NoRRiS,
Crown Svo. 6s.
' As a story it is admirable, as a j'eu tt esprit it is capital, as a lay sermon studded
witb gems of wit and wisdom it is a model.' — The World.
W. Clark Russell. MY DANISH SWEETHEART. By W.
Clark Russell. Illustrated. Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. 6s,
Robert Barr. IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. By Robert
Barr. Third Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' A book wbich has abundantly satisfied us by its capital humour.' — Daily Chronicle.
'Mr. Barr has achieved a triumph.' — Pall Mall Gtizette.
Robert Barr. THE MUTABLE MANY. By Robert Barr,
Author of ' In the Midst of Alarms,' ¦' A Woman Intervenes,' etc.
Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Very much the best novel that Mr. Barr has yet given us. There is much insight
in it, and much excellent humour.' — Daily Chronicle.
'An excellent story. It contains several excellently studied characters.' — Gltisgovj
Herald.
J. Maclaren Cobban. THE KING OF ANDAMAN : A
Saviour of Society. By J. Maclaren Cobban. Crown Svo. 6s.
' An unquestionably interesting book. It contains one character, at least, who has
in him the root of immortality.' — Pall Mall Gazette.
J. Maclaren Cobban. WILT THOU HAVE THIS WOMAN ?
By J. M. Cobban, Authorof'TheKingof Andaman.' CrownSvo. 6s.
M. E. Francis. MISS ERIN. By M. E. Francis, Author of
'In a Northern Village.' Second Edition. CrownSvo. 6s.
' A clever and charming story.' — Scotsman.
' Perfectly delightful.'— i)ai"i)/ Mail.
' An excellently fancied love tale. ' — A thentsum.
Robert Hichens. BYE WAYS. By Robert Hichens. Author
of ' Flames,' etc. Second Edition. CrownSvo. 6s.
' A very high artistic instinct and striking command of language raise Mr. Hichens'
work far above the ruck.' — Pall Mall Gazette.
' The work is undeniably that of a man of striking imagination.' — Daily News.
Percy White. A PASSIONATE PILGRIM. By Percy White,
Author of ' Mr. Bailey-Martin. ' Crown Svo. 6s.
' A work which it is not hyperbole to describe as of rare excellence.' — Pall Mall Gazette.
' The clever book of a shrewd and clever author.' — Athenteum.
W. Pett Ridge. SECRETARY TO BAYNE, M.P. By
W. Pett Ridge. Crown Svo. 6s.
* Sparkling, vivacious, adventurous. — St. Ja-mes's Gazette.
' Ingenious, amusing, and especially sm3.Tt.'~^World.
J. S. Fletcher. THE BUILDERS. By J. S. Fletcher, Author
of 'When Charles I. was King.' Second Edition, CrownSvo, 6s,
' Replete with delightful descriptions.' — Vanity Fair,
' The background of country life bas never been sketched more realistically.* — World.

Messrs. Methuen's List 31
Andrew Balfour. BY STROKE OF SWORD. By Andrew
Balfour. Illustrated by W. Cubitt Cooke. Fourth Edition. Crown
Svo. 6s.
' A banquet of good things.'— Actidemy.
' A recital of thrilling interest, told with unflagging vigour.'— G/ofe.
' An unusually excellent example of a semi-historic Tomance.'— World.
' Manly, healthy, and patriotic* — Gltisgirw Herald.
J. B. Burton. IN THE DAY OF ADVERSITY. By J. Bloun-
delle-Burton.' Second Edition, CrownSvo, 6s,
' Unusually interesting and full of highly dramatic situations. —Guardian.
J. B. Burton. DENOUNCED. By J. Bloundelle-Burton.
Second Edition. Crown Svo 6s,
J. B. Burton. THE CLASH OF ARMS. By J. Bloundelle-
Burton. Second Edition, Crown Svo, 6s,
• A brave story — brave in deed, brave In word, brave in thought.' — St, James's Gazette.
•A fine, manly, spirited piece of work.* — World.
J. B. Burton. ACROSS THE SALT SEAS. By J. Bloun
delle-Burton. Crown Svo. 6s. ^ .
'The very^ essence ofthe true romantic spirit.* — Truth.
* An ingenious and exciting &tory,.'.^Ma7ichesidr , Guardian.^
' Singularly well written.* — Athenteum.
W. C. Scully. THE WHITE HECATOMB. By W C.
Scully, Author of * Kafir Stories.' Crown Svo. 6s..
' Reveals a marvellously intimate understanding ofthe Kaffir mind.' — African Critic.
W. C. Scully. BETWEEN SUN AND SAND. By W. C,
Scully, Author of ' The White Hecatomb.' Crown Svo. 6s.
* The reader will find the interest of absolute novelty.' — The Graphic.-
*The reader passes at once into the very atmosphere of the A&ican desert: the
inexpressible space and stillness swallow him up, and there is no world for him
but that immeasurable waste.' — Atkeneeum.
'Strong, simple, direct.' — Daily Chronicle.
*One ofthe most enthralling tales we have x&a.&.'—'fVorld.
Victor Waite. CROSS TRAILS. By Victor Waite. Illus
trated. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Every page is enthralling.* — Acactemy.
'Full of strength and reality.* — Athenteum.
' The book is exceedingly powerful.'— G/<u5!?a' Herald.
I. Hooper. THE SINGER OF MARLY. By I. Hooper.
Illustrated by W. Cubitt Cooke. Crown Svo. 6s.
' The characters are all picturesque.' — Scotsman.
' A novel as vigorous as it is charming.' — Literary World.
M. C. Balfour. THE FALL OF THE SPARROW. By
M. C. Balfour. Crown Svo. 6s.
' It is unusually powerful, and tbe characterization is uncommonly eood.'—World.
H. Morrah. A SERIOUS COMEDY. By Herbert Morrah.
Crown Svo. 6s.

32 Messrs. Methuen's List
H. Morrah. THE FAITHFUL CITY. By Herbert Morrah,
Author of ' A Serious Comedy.' Crown Svo. 6s.
L. B. Walford. SUCCESSORS TO THE TITLE. By Mrs.
Walford, Authorof 'Mr. Smith, 'etc. Second Edition, CrownSvo. 6s,
Mary Gaunt. KIRKHAM'S FIND. By Mary Gaunt,
Author of ' The Moving Finger. ' Crown Svo. 6s,
' A really charming novel.' — Standard,
M. M. Dowie. GALLIA. By M^nie Muriel Dowie, Author
of 'A Girlin the Karpathians.' Third Edition, CrownSvo. 6s.
' The style is generally admirable, the dialogue not seldom brilliant, the situations
surprising in their freshness and originality.' — Saturday Review.
M. M. Dowie. THE CROOK OF THE BOUGH. By
Menie Muriel Dowie. Crown Svo. 6s.
'An exceptionally clever and well- written book.[ — Dail^ Telegraph.
' An excellent story with shrewd humour and bright writing. The author is dalight
fully -witty: —Pall Mall Gazette.
' Strong, suggestive, and witty,* — Daily News.
J. A. Barry. IN THE GREAT DEEP. By J. A. Barry.
Author of ' Steve Brown's Bunyip.' Crown Svo. 6s.
'A collection of really admirable short stories ofthe sea.' — Westminster Gazette.
Julian Corbett. A BUSINESS IN GREAT WATERS. By
Julian Corbett. Second Edition. Crown Svo. 6s.
J. B. Patton. BIJLI, THE DANCER. By James Blythe
Patton. Illustrated. Crown Svo. 6s.
' Powerful and fascinating.' — Pall Mall Gazette.
* A true and entrancing book.* — Country Life Illustrated.
' A remarkable book.* — Bookman.
' A vivid picture of Indian life.' — Academy.
Norma Lorimer. JOSIAH'S WIFE. By Norma Lorimkr.
Second Edition, Crown Svo, 6s.
' Written in a bright and witty style.* — Pall Mall Gazette.
Lucy Maynard. THE PHILANTHROPIST. By Lucy May
nard. Crown Svo. 6s.
' It contains many graphic sketches of the private life of a charitable institution. '—
Glasgow Herald.
L. Cope Cornford. CAPTAIN JACOBUS : A ROMANCE OF
THE ROAD. By L. Cope Cornford. Illustrated. CrownSvo. 6s.
' An exceptionally good story of adventure and character.* — World.
L. Cope Cornford. SONS OF ADVERSITY. By L. Cope
Cornford, Author of 'Captain Jacobus.' Crown Svo. 6s.
' A very stirring and spirited sketch of the spacious times of Queen Elizabeth. '—Pall
Mall Gazette.
' Packed with iaciient,'— Outlook,

Messrs. Methuen's List 33
F. Brune. VAUSSORE. By Francis Brune. Crown Svo.
6s.
' A subtle, complete achievement.*— /"a// Mtill Gazette.
' This story is strangely 'vatats&az.'-Manchester GuUfdidH.
OTHER SIX-SHILLirfQ NOVELS
Crown Svo.
THE KING OF ALBERIA. By Laura Daintrey.
THE DAUGHTER OF ALOUETTE. By Mary A. OWEN.
CHILDREN OF THIS WOF^LD. By Ellen F. Pinsent.
AN ELECTRIC SPARK, By G. Manville Fenn.
UNDER SHADOW OF THE MISSION. By L. S.
McChesney
THE SPECULATORS. By J. F. Brewer. .
THE SPIRIT OF STORM. By Ronald Ross.
THE QUEENSBERRY CUP. By Clive P. WolLey.
A HOME IN INVERESK. By T. L. Paton.
miss ARMSTRONG'S AND OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES.
By John Davidson.
DR. CONGALTON'S LEGACY. By Henry Johnston.
TIME AND THE-WOMAN. By Richard Pryce,
THIS MAN'S DOMINION. By the Author of 'A High
Little World.'
DIOGENES OF LONDON. By H. B. Marriott Watson.
THE STONE DRAGON. By Murray Gilchrist.
A VICAR'S WIFE. By Evelyn Dickinson.
ELSA. By E. M'Queen Gray.
THREE-AND-SIXPENNY NOVELS
Crown Svo.
DERRICK VAUGHAN, NOVELIST. By Edna Lyall.
THE KLOOF BRIDE. By Ernest Glanville.
SUBJECT TO VANITY. By Margaret Benson.
THE SIGN OF THE SPIDER. By Bertram Mitford.
THE MOVING FINGER. By Mary Gaunt.
JACO TRELOAR. By J. H. Pearce.
THE DANCE OF THE HOURS. By ' Vera.'
A WOMAN OF FORTY. By EsmS Stuart.
A CUMBERER OF THE GROUND. By CONSTANCE SMITH.
THE SIN OF ANGELS. By Evelyn DIckinson.
AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL. By X. L.
THE COMING OF CUCULAIN. By Standish OGeadv.
THE GODS GIVE MY DONKEY WINGS. By Angus Evan Abbott.
THE STAR GAZERS. By G. Manville Fenn.
THE POISON OF ASPS. By R. Orton Prowse.
THE QUIET MRS. FLEMING. By R. Pryce.
DISENCHANTMENT. By F. Mabel Robinson.

34 Messrs. Methuen's List
THE SQUIRE OF WANDALES. By A. Shield.
A REVEREND GENTLEMAN. By J. M. Cobban.
A DEPLORABLE AFFAIR. By W. E. NORRIS.
A CAVALIER'S LADYE. By Mrs. Dicker.
THE PRODIGALS. By Mrs. Oliphant.
THE SUPPLANTER. By P. Neumann.
A MAN WITH BLACK EYELASHES. By H. A. Kennedy.
A HANDFUL OF EXOTICS. By S. Gordon.
AN ODD EXPERIMENT. By Hannah Lynch.
SCOTTISH BORDER LIFE. By James C. Dibdin.
HALF-CROWN NOVELS
Crown Svo.
HOVENDEN, V.C, By F. Mabel Robinson.
THE PLAN OF CAMPAIGN. By F. MABEL ROBINSON.
MR. BUTLER'S WARD. By F. Mabel Robinson.
ELI'S CHILDREN. By G. Manville Fenn.
A DOUBLE KNOT. By G. Manville Fenn.
DISARMED. By M. Betham Edwards.
A MARRIAGE AT SEA. By W. Clark Russell.
IN TENT AND BUNGALOW. By the Author of ' Indian Idylls.'
MY STEWARDSHIP. By E. M'QuEEN GRAY.
JACK'S FATHER. By W. E. NoRRiS.
A LOST ILLUSION. By Leslie Keith.

THE TRUE HISTORY OF JOSHUA DAVIDSON, Christian and Com
munist. By E. Lynn Lynton. Eleventh Edition. Post Svo. is.
Books for Boys and Girls
A Series of Books by well-known Authors, well illustrated.
THREE-AND-SiXPENCE EACH
THE ICELANDER'S SWORD. By S. BARING Gould.
TWO LITTLE CHILDREN AND CHING. By Edith E. Cuthell.
TODDLEBEN'S HERO. By M. M. Blake.
ONLY A GUARD-ROOM DOG. By Edith E. Cuthell.
THE DOCTOR OF THE JULIET. By Harry Collingwood.
MASTER ROCKAFELLAR'S VOYAGE. By W. Clark Russell.
SYD BELTON : Or, The Boy who would not go to Sea. By G. Manville
Fenn.
the WALLYPUG IN LONDON. By G. E. FARROW.
The Peacock Library
A Series of Books for Girls by well-known Authors, handsomely bound,
and well illustrated.
THREE-AND-SIXPENCE EACH
A PINCH OF EXPERIENCE. By L. B. Walpord.
the RED GRANGE. By Mrs. Molesworth.
THE SECRET OF M.\DAME DE MONLUC. By the Author of
' Mdle Mori.

Messrs. Methuen's List 35
DUMPS. By Mrs. Parr.
OUT OF THE FASHION, By L. T. Meade.
A GIRL OF THE PEOPLE. By L. T. Meade.
HEPSY GIPSY. By L. T. Meade, zs. ed.
THE HONOURABLE MISS. By L. T. Meade.
MY LAND OF BEULAH. By Mrs. Leith Adams.
University Extension Series
A series of books on historical, literary, and scientific subjects, suitable
for extension students and home-reading circles. Each volume is com
plete in itself, and the subjects are treated by competent writers in a
broad and philosophic spirit.
Edited by J. E. SYMES, M.A.,
Principal of University College, Nottingham.
Crown Svo. Price (with some exceptions) 2s. 6d.
The following volumes are ready : —
THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By H. de B. Gibbins,
D.Litt., M.A. , late Scholar of Wadham College, Oxon., Cobden Prizeman.
Fifth Edition, Revised. With Mafs and Plans. 3^,
'A compact and clear story of our industrial development. A study of this concise
but luminous book cannot fail to give the reader a clear insight into the principal
phenomena of our industrial history. The editor and publishers are to be congrat
ulated on this first volume of their venture, and we shall look with expectant
interest for the succeeding volumes oftheseries.* — University Extension JournaL
A HISTORY OF ENGLISH POLITICAL ECONOMY. By L. L. Price,
M.A. , Fellow of Oriel College, Oxon. Second Edition.
PROBLEMS OF POVERTY : An Inquiry into the Industrial Conditions of
the Poor. By J. A. HoBSON, M.A. Third Edition.
VICTORIAN POETS, By A. Sharp.
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. By J. E. Symes, M.A.
PSYCHOLOGY. By F. S. Granger, M.A. Second Edition.
THE EVOLUTION OF PLANT LIFE : Lower Forms. By G. MASSEE.
With Illustrations.
AIR AND WATER. By V. B. Lewes, M.A. Illustrated.
THE CHEMISTRY OF LIFE AND HEALTH. By C. W. Kimmins,
M.A. Illustrated.
THE MECHANICS OF DAILY LIFE. By V. P. Sells, M.A. Illustrated.
ENGLISH SOCIAL REFORMERS. By H. DE B. Gibbins, D.Litt., M.A.
ENGLISH TRADE AND FINANCE IN THE SEVENTEENTH
CENTURY. By W. A. S. Hewins, B.A.
THE CHEMISTRY OF FIRE. The Elementary Principles of Chemistry.
By M. M. PATTISON MuiR, M.A. Illustrated.
A TEXT-BOOK OF AGRICULTURAL BOTANY. By M. C. Potter,
M.A., F.L.S. Illustrated. 3J. dd.
THE VAULT OF HEAVEN. A Popular Introduction to Astronomy.
By R. A. Gregory. With numerous Illustrations.
METTEOROLOGY. The Elements of Weather and Climate. By H. N.
Dickson, F.R.S.E., F.R. Met. Soc. Illustrated.
A MANUAL OF ELECTRICAL SCIENCE. By George J. Burch,
M.A With numerous Illustrations. 3s,

36 MESSRS. Methuen's List
THE EARTH. An Introduction to Physiography. By EvAN Small, M.A.
Illustrated,
INSECT LIFE. By F. W. Theobald, M.A. Illustrated.
ENGLISH POETRY FROM BLAKE TO BROWNING. By W. M.
Dixon, M.A.
ENGLISH LOCAL GOVERNMENT. By E. jENKS, M.A., Professor of
Law at University College, Liverpool.
THE GREEK VIEW OF LIFE. By G. L. Dickinson, Fellow of King's
College, Cambridge. Second Edition.
Social Questions of To-day
Edited by H. de B. ^GIBBINS, D.Litt, M.A.
Crown Svo, 2S, 6d,
A series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, and industrial
interest that are at the present moment foremost in the public mind.
Each volume of the series is written by an author who is an acknow
ledged authority upon the subject with which he deals.
The following Volumes ofthe Series are ready : —
TRADE UNIONISM— NEW AND OLD. By G. Howell. Second
Edition.
THE CO-OPERATIVE MOVEMENT TO-DAY. By G. J. Holyoake,
Second Edition.
MUTUAL THRIFT. By Rev. J. Frome Wilkinson, M.A.
PROBLEMS OF POVERTY. By J. A. HOBSON, M.A. Third Edition,
THE COMMERCE OF NATIONS. By C. F. Bastable, M.A., Professor
of Economics at Trinity College, Dublin.
THE ALIEN INVASION. By W. H. Wilkins, B.A.
THE RURAL EXODUS. By P. Anderson Graham.
LAND NATIONALIZATION. By Harold Cox, B.A.
A SHORTER WORKING DAY. By H.' DE B. GiBBiNS, D.Litt., M.A.,
and R. A. Hadfield, of the Hecla Works, Sheffield.
BACK TO THE LAND : An Inquiry into the Cure for Rural Depopulation.
By H. E. Moore.
TRUSTS, POOLS AND CORNERS. By J. Stephen Jeans.
THE FACTORY SYSTEM. By R. W. Cooke-Taylor.
THE STATE AND ITS CHILDREN. By Gertrude Tuckwell.
WOMEN'S WORK. By Lady Dilke, Miss Bulley, and Miss Whitley.
MUNICIPALITIES AT WORK. The Municipal Policy of Six Great
Towns, and its Influence on their Social Welfare. By Frederick Dolman.
SOCIALISM AND MODERN THOUGHT. By M. Kaufmann.
THE HOUSING OF THE WORKING CLASSES. By E. Bowmaker.

Messrs. Methuen's List 37
MODERN CIVILIZATION IN SOME OF ITS ECONOMIC ASPECTS.
By W. Cunningham, D.D., Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge.
THE PROBLEM OF THE UNEMPLOYED. By J. A. Hobson, B.A.,
LIFE IN WEST LONDON. By Arthur Sherwell, M.A. SecondEdition.
RAILWAY NATIONALIZATION. By Clement Edwards.
WORKHOUSES AND PAUPERISM. By Louisa Twining.
Classical Translations
Editedby H. F. FOX, M.A. , Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose College, Oxford.
.ffiSCHYLUS — ^Agamemnon, Choephoroe, Eumenides. Translated by Lewis
Campbell, LL.D., late Professor of Greek at St. Andrews, 5^.
CICERO— De Oratore I, Translated by E. N. P. Moor, M.A. 31. 6d.
CICERO — Select Orations (Pro Milone, Pro Murena, Philippic IL, In
Catilinam). Translated by H. E. D. Blakiston, M.A., Fellow and
Tutor of Trinity College, Oxford, y.
CICERO— De Natura Deorum. Translated by F. Brooks, M.A., late
Scholar of Balliol College, Oxford. 3J. 6d,
HORACE: THE ODES AND EPODES. Translated by A. Godley, M.A. ,
Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford, zs.
LUCIAN — Six Dialogues (Nigrinus, Icaro-Menippus, The Cock, TheShip. The
Parasite, The Lover of Falsehood). Translated by S. T. Ir win, M. A. , Assis
tant Master at Clifton ; late Scholar of Exeter College, Oxford. 3J. 6d.
SOPHOCLES— Electra and Ajax. Translated by E. D. A. Morshead.
M.A., Assistant Master at Winchester, zs. 6d.
TACITUS— Agricola and Germania. Translated by R. B. TOWNSHEND,
late Scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, zs. 6d.
Educational Books
CLASSICAL
PLAUTI BACCHIDES. Edited with Introduction, Commentary, and
Critical Notes by J. M'CosH, M.A. Fcap. 410. izs. dd.
'The notes are copious, and contain a great deal of information that is good and
useful. ' — Classical Review.
PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. By E. C. Marchant,
M.A., Fellow of Peterhouse, Cambridge; and A. M. COOK, M.A., late
Scholar of Wadham College, Oxford ; Assistant Masters at St. Paul's
School. Crown Svo. y. 6d.
' A capital selection, and of more variety and value than such hooks usually are.'—
Athenteum. .
' A judiciously compiled book which will be found widely convenient. — Schoolmaster.
' We know no book of this class better fitted for use in the higher forms of schools.'—
Guardian.
TACITI AGRICOLA. With Introduction, Notes, Map, etc. By R. F.
Davis, M.A., Assistant Master at Weymouth College. CrownSvo. zs.
TACITI GERMANIA. By the same Editor. Crown Svo. zs.
HERODOTUS : EASY SELECTIONS. With Vocabulary. By A. C.
Liddell, M.A. Fcap. Svo. is. 6d,

38 Messrs. Methuen's List
SELECTIONS FROM THE ODYSSEY. By E. D. Stone, M.A., late
Assistant Master at Eton. Fcap. Svo, is, td,
PLAUTUS: THE CAPTIVL Adapted for Lower Forms by J. H. Freese,
M.A., late Fellow of St. John's, Cambridge, is. 6d.
DEMOSTHENES AGAINST CONON AND CALLICLES. Edited with
Notes and Vocabulary, by F. Darwin Swift, M.A., formerly Scholar
of Queen's College, Oxford. Fcap. Svo, zs,
EXERCISES IN LATIN ACCIDENCE. By S. E. Winbolt, Assistant
Master in Christ's Hospital. Crown Svo. is. 6d.
An elementary book adapted for Lower Forms to accompany the shorter Latin primer.
' Skilfully arranged.* — Gltisgow Herald.
' Accurate and well arranged.* — Athenteum.
NOTES ON GREEK AND LATIN SYNTAX. By G. Buckland
Green, M.A., Assistant Master at Edinburgh Academy, late Fellow of
St. John*s College, Oxon. Crown Svo. 3.r. td.
Notes and explanations on the chief difficulties of Greek and Latin Syntax, with
numerous passages for exercise.
' Supplies a gap in educational literature.*— G/<wg-tfa/ Herald.
GERMAN
A COMPANION GERMAN GRAMMAR. By H. de B. Gibbins, D.Litt.,
M. A., Assistant Master at Nottingham High School. CrownSvo. is. td.
GERMAN PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. By E.
M'QuEEN Gray. Crown Svo. zs. td.
SCIENCE
THE WORLD OF SCIENCE. Including Chemistry, Heat, Light, Sound,
Magnetism, Electricity, Botany, Zoology, Physiology, Astronomy, and
Geology. By R. Elliott Steel, M.A., F.C.S. 147 Illustrations.
Second Edition. Crown Svo. zs. td.
ELEMENTARY LIGHT. By R. E. Steel. With numerous Illustrations.
Crown Svo. 41. td. ENGLISH
ENGLISH RECORDS. A Companion to the History of England. By
H. E. Malden, M.A. Crown Svo. y. td.
A book which aims at concentrating information upon dates, genealogy, officials, con
stitutional documents, etc., which is usually found scattered in different volumes.
THE ENGLISH CITIZEN : HIS RIGHTS AND DUTIES. By H. E.
Malden, M.A. is. td.
A DIGEST OF DEDUCTIVE LOGIC. By Johnson Barker, B.A.
Crown Svo. zs. td.
TEST CARDS IN EUCLID AND ALGEBRA. By D. S. Calderwood,
Headmaster of the Norraal School, Edinburgh. In three packets of 40,
with Answers, is.
A set of cards for advanced pupils in elementary schools.
'They bear all the marks of having been prepared by a teacher of experience who
knows the value of careful grading and constant repetition. Sums are specially
inserted to meet all likely difficulties. The papers set at the various public
examinations have been largely drawn upon in preparing the cards.* — GutsgtrtJO
Herald.

Messrs. Methuen's List 39
methuen's commercial series
Edited by H. de B. GIBBINS, D.Litt., M.A.
BRITISH COMMERCE AND COLONIES FROM ELIZABETH TO
VICTORIA. By H. de B. Gibbins, D.LitL, M.A. at. SecondEdition,
COMMERCIAL EXAMINATION PAPERS. By H. DE B. Gibbins,
D.Litt., M.A., i.r. td,
THE ECONOMICS OF COMMERCE. By H. DE B. Gibbins, D.Litt.,
M.A IS, td,
FRENCH COMMERCIAL CORRESPONDENCE. By S. E. Bally,
Modern Language Master at the Manchester Grammar School, zs.
Second Edition,
GERMAN COMMERCIAL CORRESPONDENCE. By S. E. Bally,
zs,td,
A FRENCH COMMERCIAL READER. By S. E. BALLY, zs,
COMMERCIAL GEOGRAPHY, with special reference to. the British
Empire. By L. W. Lyde, M.A., of the Academy, Glasgow, zs.
Second Edition,
A PRIMER OF BUSINESS. By S. Jackson, M.A. is. td,
COMMERCIAL ARITHME-HC. By F. G. Taylob, M.A. is, td,
PRl£ciS WRITING AND OFFICE CORRESPONDENCEi By E. E.
Whitfield, M.A. zs,
WORKS BY A. M. M. STEDMAN, M,A,
INITIA LATINA: Easy Lessons on Elementary Accidence. SecondEdition,
Fcap. Svo. IS.
FIRST LATIN LESSONS. Fourth Edition, Crown Svo. zs.
FIRST LATIN READER. With Notes adapted to the Shorter Latin
Primer and Vocabulary. Fourth Edition remised. iSmo. is. td,
EASY SELECTIONS FROM CAESAR. Part l. The Helvetian War.
Second Edition. iSmo. is.
EASY SELECTIONS FROM LIVY. Part l. The Kings of Rome. iSmo.
IS. td.
EASY LATIN PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. Fifth
Edition. Fcap. Svo. is. td.
EXEMPLA LATINA. First Lessons in Latin Accidence. With Vocabulary.
Crown Svo. is.
EASY LATIN EXERCISES ON THE SYNTAX OF THE SHORTER
AND REVISED LATIN PRIMER. With Vocabulary. Seventh and
cheaper Edition re-written. Crown Svo. is. td. Issued with the consent
of Dr. Kennedy.
THE LATIN COMPOUND SENTENCE : Rules and Exercises. Crown
Svo. IS. td. With Vocabulary, zs.
NOTANDA QUAEDAM : Miscellaneous Latin Exercises on Common Rules
and Idioms. Third Edition. Fcap. Svo. is. td. With Vocabulary, zs.
LATIN VOCABULARIES FOR REPETITION : Arranged according to
Subjects. Snienth Edition. Fcap, Svo, is, td.

40 Messrs. Methuen's List
A VOCABULAI^Y OF LATIN IDIOMS AND PHRAS^. iSmo. Second
Edition, IS.
STEPS TO GREEK. iSmo. is,
A SHORTER GREEK PRI.MER. Crtmn Svo, is. td.
EASY GREEK PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. Third
Edition Revised. Fcap. Svo. is. td.
GREEK VOCABULARIES FOR REPETITION. Arranged according to
Subjects. Second Edition. Fcap. Svo, is, td,
GREEK TESTAMENT SELECTIONS. For the use of Schools. Third
Edition, With Introduction, Notes, and Vocabulary. Fcap, Svo, zs. td.
STEPS TO FRENCH. Third Edition. iSmo, Sd.
FIRST FRENCH LESSONS. Third Edition Revised. Crcmn Svo, is.
EASY- 1 RENCH PASSAGES FOR UNSEEN TRANSLATION. Third
Edition revised. Fcap. Svo. is. td.
EASY FRENCH EXERCISES ON ELEMENTARY SYNTAX. With
Vocabulary. Second Edition, Crown Svo, zs, td. Key 3^.
FRENCH VOCABULARIES FOR REPETITION: Arranged according to
Subjects. Sixth Edition, Fcap, Svo, is,
SCHOOL EXAMINATION SERIES
Edited by A. M. M. STEDMAN, M.A. Crown Svo, 2s, 6d.
FRENCH EXAMINATION PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAM
MAR AND IDIOMS. By A. M. M. Stedman, M.A. Ninth Edition,
A Key, issued to Tutors and Private Students only, to be had on
application to the Publishers. .Fourth Edition. Crown Svo. ts. net.
LATIN EXAMINATION PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAM
MAR AND IDIOMS. By A. M. M. Stedman, M.A. Eighth Edition.
Key ( Third Edition) issued as above, ts. net.
GREEK EXAMINATION PAPERS IN MISCELLANEOUS GRAM
MAR AND IDIOMS. By A. M. M. Stedman, M.A. Fifth Edition.
Key {^Second Edition) issued as above, ts. nei.
GERMAN EXAMINATION PAPERS IN. MISCELLANEOUS GRAM
MAR AND IDIOMS. By R. J. MOEICH, Manchester. Fifth Edition.
Key {Second Edition) issued as above, ts. net.
HIS.TORY AND GEOGRAPHY EXAMINATION PAPERS. By C. H.
Spence, M. A., Clifton College. Second Edition.
SCIENCE EXAMINATION PAPERS. By R. E. Steel, M.A. , F.C.S.,
Chief Natural Science Master, Bradford Grammar School. In two vols.
Part I. Chemistry ; Part II. Physics.
GENERAL KNOWLEDGE EXAMINATION PAPERS. By A. M. M.
Stedman, M.A. Third Edition.
Key (Second Edition) issued as above, js. net.