FROM THE BENNO LOEWY LIBRARY COLLECTED BY BENNO LOEWY 1854-1919 BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY Cornell University Ubrary BS511 .A75 1902 Literature and dogma : an essay towards olin 3 1924 029 275 308 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029275308 This Edition is limited to 210 numbered copies^ of which this copy is numher (o ^ ~7C^aL LITERATURE AND DOGMA AN ESSAY TOWARDS A BETTER APPREHENSION OF THE BIBLE By MATTHEW ARNOLD, D.C.L. Formerly Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford and Fellow of Oriel College NEW AMSTERDAM BOOK COMPANY PUBLISHERS: NEW YORK, 1902 hsSoLUO Introduction, Matthew Arnold, called the Sainte-Beuve of England, and eminent ae a poet, as a critic, as an essayist, and master of the most exquisite literary style known among modem writers, was a son of Dr. Arnold of Rugby. He was born at Laleham, England, 24th December, 1822, and educated at Winchester, Rugby, and Balliol College, Oxford. He won the Newdigate prize with a poem on Cromwell in 1843, and the following year, gradu- ating with honors, was elected a fellow of Oriel in 1845. Soon after he became private secretary to Lord Lansdowne, which position he held for several years till 1851, when he was appointed one of the lay inspectors of Schools. During his term of office, which lasted till 1885, he was more than once sent by Grovernment to inquire into the state of education on the Continent, and his masterly reports thereon attracted much atten- tion throughout the English-speaking world. In 1883 a pension was conferred on him, and in the same year he paid his first visit to the United States. He died suddenly at Liverpool, 15th April, 1888. Although ranking high as a poet Arnold's repu- tation as a writer rests mainly upon his exquisite prose. Nowhere can we find greater dignity of thought and sentiment united to a high distinc- tion of manner and utterance. His criticisms on poetry did much to raise criticism in England to the level of a serious and almost systematic sci- ence. His literary judgments have long been re- ceived by the literary world with a respect much INTRODUCTION. higher than that paid to the utterances of any other writer. His literary style is as nearly per- fect as it was possible for it to be ; and it would be difficult to overestimate the benefit to all later writers of such an admirable model and such a high standard for comparison. Among his many prose works "Literature and Dogma" has been accorded the first place, and therefore it has been selected as being most wor- thy of starting the series of world-fanious books which will form the ** Commonwealth Library." Robert Waite. IV Preface. An inevitable revolution, of which we all recog- nize the beginnings and signs, but which has already spread, perhaps, farther than most of us think, is befalling the religion in which we have been brought up. In those countries where re- ligion has been most loved, this revolution will be felt the most keenly; felt through all its stages and in all its incidents. In no country will it be more felt than in England. This cannot be other- wise ; it cannot be but that the revolution should come, and that it should be here felt passionately, profoundly, painfully; but no one is on that ac- count in the least dispensed from the utmost duty of consideratenesB and caution. There is no surer proof of a narrow and ill-instructed mind, than to think and uphold that what a man takes to be the truth on religious matters is always to be proclaimed. Our truth on these matters, and likewise the error of others, is something so rela- tive, that the good or harm likely to be done by speaking ought always to be taken into account. "I keep silence at many things," says Groethe, "for I would not mislead men, and am well con- tent if others can find satisfaction in what gives me oflfence." The man who believes that his truth on religious matters is so absolutely the truth, that say it when, and where, and to whom he will, he cannot but do good with it, is in our day almost always a man whose truth is half blunder, and wholly useless. To be convinced, therefore, that our current theology is false, is not necessarily a reason for V PREFACE. publishing that conviction. The theology may be false, and yet one may do more harm in attack- ing it than by keeping silence and waiting. To judge rightly the time and its conditions is the great thing ; there is a time, as the Preacher says, to speak, and a time to keep silence. If the pres- ent time is a time to speak, there must be a rea- son why it is so. And there is a reason; and it is this. Clergy- men and ministers of religion are full of lamenta- tions over what they call the spread of scepticism, and because of the little hold which religion now has on the masses of the people,~the lapsed masses, as some writers call them. Practical hold on them it never, perhaps, had very much, but they did not question its truth, and they held it in considerable awe ; as the best of them raised themselves up out of a merely animal life, religion attracted and engaged them. But now they seem to have hardly any awe of it at all, and they freely question its truth ; and many of the most successful, energetic, and ingenious of the artisan class, who are steady and rise, are now found either of themselves rejecting the Bible altogether, or following teachers who tell them the Bible is an exploded superstition. Let me quote from the letter of a workingman — a man, himself, of no common intelligence and temper — a passage that sets this forth very clearly. "Despite the efforts of the churches," he says, "the speculations of the day are working their way down among the people, many of whom are asking for the reason and authority for the things they have been taught to believe. Questions of this kind, too, mostly reach them through doubtful channels; and owing to this, and to their lack of culture, a discovery of imperfection and fallibility in the PREFACE. Bible leads to its contemptuous rejection as a great priestly imposture. And thus those among the working class who eschew the teachings of the orthodox, slide off towards, not the late Mr. Maurice, nor yet Professor Huxley, but towards Mr. Bradlaugh." Despite the efforts of the churches, the writer tells us, this contemptuous rejection of the Bible happens. And we regret the rejection as much as the clergy and ministers of religion do. There may be many others who do not regret it, but we do; all that the churches can say about the importance of the Bible and its religion, we con- cur in. And it is the religion of the Bible that is professedly in question with all the churches, when they talk of religion and lament its prospects. With Catholics as well as Protestants, and with all the sects of Protestantism, this is so; and from the nature of the case it must be so. What the religion of the Bible is, how it is to be got at, they may not agree ; but that it is the religion of the Bible for which they contend, they all aver. "The Bible," says Dr. Newman, "is the record of the whole revealed faith ; so far all parties agree." Now, this religion of the Bible we say they can- not value more than we do. If we hesitate to adopt strictly their language about its a7/-impor- tance, that is only because we take an uncom- monly large view of human perfection, and say, speaking strictly, that there go to this certain things, — art, for instance, and science, which the Bible hardly meddles with. The difference be- tween us and them, however, is more a difference of theoretical statement than of practical conclu- sion; speaking practically, and looking at the very large part of human life engaged by the Bible, at the comparatively small part unengaged by it, we PEEFACE. are quite "willing, like the churches, to call the Bible and its religion a7/-important. And yet, with all this agreement both in words and in things, when we behold the clergy and ministers of religion lament the neglect of religion, and aspire to restore it, how must one feel that to restore religion as they understand it, to re- enthrone the Bible as explained by our current theology, whether learned or popular, is abso- lutely and forever impossible I— as impossible as to restore the predominance of the feudal system, or of the belief in witches. Let us admit that the Bible cannot possibly die; but then the churches cannot even conceive the Bible without the gloss they at present put upon it, and this gloss, as certainly, cannot possibly live. And it is not a gloss which one church or sect puts upon the Bible and another does not; it is the gloss they all put upon it, and call the substratum of belief common to all Christian churches, and largely shared with them, even, by natural religion. It is this so-called axiomatic basis which must go, and it supports all the rest ; and if the Bible were really inseparable from this and depended upon it, then Mr. Bradlaugh would have his way, and the Bible would go too; for this basis is inevitably doomed. For whatever is to stand must rest upon something which is verifiable, not unverifi- able. Now, the assumption with which all the churches and sects set out, that there is "a great Personal First Cause, the moral and intelligent Governor of the universe," and that from him the Bible derives its authority, can never be verified. Those who "ask for the reason and authority for the things they have been taught to believe," as the people, we are told, are now doing, will begin at the beginning. Rude and hard reasoners PREFACE. as they are, they will never consent to admit, as a self-evident axiom, the preliminary assumption with vrhich the churches start. But this prelimi- nary assumption governs everything which in our current theology follows it; and it is certain, therefore, that the people will not receive our cur- rent theology. So, if they are to receive the Bible, we must find for the Bible some other basis than that which the churches assign to it, a verifiable basis, and not an assumption; and this, again, will govern everything which comes after. This new religion of the Bible the people may receive ; the version now current of the religion of the Bible they never will receive. Here, then, is the problem: to find for the Bible a basis in something which can be verified, instead of in something which has to be assumed. So true and prophetic are Vinet'e words: "We must,^' he said, "make it our business to bring forward the rational side of Christianity, and to show that for thinkers, too, it has a right to be an authority." Yes, and the problem we have stated must be the first stage in the business; with this unsolved, all other religious discussion is idle trifling. This is why Dissent, as a religious movement of our day, would be almost droll, if it were not, from the tempers and actions it excites, eo ex- tremely irreligious. But what is to be said for men, aspiring to deal with the cause of religion, who either cannot see that what the people now require is a religion of the Bible quite different from that which any of the churches or sects sup- ply; or who, seeing this, spend their energies in fiercely battling as to whether the Church shall be connected with the nation in its collective and corporate character or no? The question, at the PREFACE. present juncture, is in itself so absolutely unim- portant ! The thing is, to recast religion. If this is done, the new religion will be the national one ; if it is not done, separating the nation in its col- lective and corporate character from religion will not do it. It is as if men's minds were much un- settled about mineralogy, and the teachers of it were at variance, and no teacher was convincing, and many people, therefore, were disposed to throw the study of mineralogy overboard altogether. What would naturally be the first business for every friend of the study? Surely to establish on sure grounds the value of the study, and to put its claims in a new light where they could no longer be denied. But if he acted as our Dissenters act in religion, what would he do? Give himself, heart and soul, to a furious crusade against keep- ing the Grovernment School of Mines. But meanwhile there is now an end to all fear of doing harm by gainsaying the received theology of the churches and sects. For this theology is itself now a hindrance to the Bible rather than a help ; nay, to abandon it, to put some other con- struction on the Bible than this theology puts, to find some other basis for the Bible than this the- ology finds, is indispensable, if we would have the Bible reach the people. And this is the aim of the following essay : to show that, when we come to put the right construction on the Bible, we give to the Bible a real experimental basis, and keep on this basis throughout ; instead of any basis of unverifiable assumption to start with, followed by a string of other unverifiable assumptions of the like kind, such as the received theology necessi- tates. And this aim we cannot seek without coming in sight of another aim, too, which we have often X PREFACE. and often pointed out, and tried to recommend : culture, the acquainting ourselves with the best that has been known and said in the world, and thus with the history of the human spirit. One cannot go far in the attempt to bring in, for the Bible, a right construction, without seeing how necessary is something of culture to its being ad- mitted and used. The correspondent we have above quoted notices how the lack of culture dis- poses the people to conclude at once, from any imperfection or fallibility in the Bible, that it is a priestly imposture. To a large extent, this is the fault, not of the people's want of culture, but of the priests and theologians, who for centuries have kept assuring the people that perfect and in- fallible the Bible is. Still, even without this con- fusion added by his theological instructors, the homo UDJus hbri, the man of no range in his read- ing, must almost inevitably misunderstand the Bible, cannot treat it largely enough, must be in- clined to treat it all alike, and to press every word. For, on the one hand, he has not enough ex- perience of the way in which men have thought and spoken, to feel what the Bible writers are about ; to read between the lines, to discern where he ought to rest with his whole weight, and where he ought to pass lightly. On the other hand, the void and hunger in his mind, from want of aliment, almost irresistibly impels him to fill it by taking literally and amplifying certain data which he finds in the Bible, whether they ought to be so dealt with or no. Our mechanical and materializing theology, with its insane license of aflB.rmation about God, its insane license of aflBr- mation about a future state, is really the result of the poverty and inanition of our minds. It is be- PEEPACE. cause we cannot trace God in history that we stay the craving of our minds with a fancy ac- count of him, made up by putting scattered ex- pressions of the Bible together, and taking them literally; it is because we have such a scanty sense of the life of humanity, that we proceed in the like manner in our scheme of a future state. He that cannot watch the God of the Bible, and the salvation of the Bible, gradually and on an immense scale discovering themselves and becom- mgj will insist on seeing them ready made, and in such precise and reduced dimensions as may suit his narrow mind. To understand that the language of the Bible is fluid, passing, and literary, not rigid, fixed, and scientific, is the first step towards a right under- standing of the Bible. But to take this very first step, some experience of how men have thought and expressed themselves, and some flexibility of spirit, are necessary; and this is culture. Much fruit may be got out of the Bible without it, and with those narrow and materialized schemes of God and a future state which we have mentioned ; that we do not deny, but it is not the important point at present. The important point is, that the diffusion everywhere of some notion of the habits of the experimental sciences,— habits fall- ing in, too, very well with the hard and positive character of the life of "the people,"— the point is, that this diffusion does lead "the people" to nsk for the ground and authority for these precise schemes of God and a future state which are pre- sented to them, and to see clearly and scornfully the failure to give it. The failure to give it is in- evitable, because given it cannot be ; but whereas in the training, life, and sentiment of the educated classes there is much to make them disguise the xii PREFACE. failure to themselves and not insist upon it, in the training, life, and sentiment of the people there is nothing. So that, as far as the people are con- cerned, the old traditional scheme of the Bible is gone ; while neither they nor the so-called educated classes have yet anything to put in its place. And thus we come back to our old remedy of culture,— knowing the best that has been thought and known in the world ; which turns out to be, in another shape, and in particular relation to the Bible: getting the power, through reading, to estimate the proportion and relation in what we read. If we read but a very little, we naturally want to press it all ; if we read a great deal, we are willing not to press the whole of what we read, and we learn what ought to be pressed and what not. Now this is really the very foundation of any sane criticism. We have told the Dissenters that their "spirit of watchful jealousy" is wholly destructive and exclusive of the spirit of Chris- tianity. They answer us, that St. Paul talks of "a godly jealousy," and that Christ uses severe invectives against the Scribes and Pharisees. The Dissenters conclude, therefore, that their jealousy is Christian. And so, too, as to the frank, un- varnished language of Mr. Miall at home, Mr. Miall speaking out of the abundance of his heart as a Dissenter to Dissenters, before he draped him- self philosophically for the House of Commons and the world in his garment of blazing principles, as messenger and minister of the sublime truth, that the best way to get religion known and honored is to abolish all national recognition of it. "A State Church I" cries the real Mr. Miall; "have people never pondered upon the practical meaning of that word? have they never looked into that dark, polluted inner chamber of which iriii PREFACE. it is the door? have they never caught a glimpse of the loathsome things that live and crawl and gender there?" This, I say, the Dissenters think Christian, because covered by Christ's use of in- vective. Now, there can be no doubt whatever, that in his invectives against the Scribes and Pharisees Christ abandoned the mild, uncontentious, win- ning, inward mode of working (He shall not strive nor cry!) which was his true characteristic, and in which his charm and power lay ; and that there was no chance at all of his gaining by such invectives the persons at whom they were launched. The same may be said of the cases where St. Paul lets loose his "godly jealousy," and employs objurgation instead of the mildness which was Christ's means, and which Paul — though himself no special adept at it — never- theless appreciated so worthily, and so earnestly extols. St. Paul certainly had no chance of con- vincing those whom he calls "dogs," the "con- cision," utterers of "profane and vain babblings," by such a manner of dealing with them. What may, indeed, fairly be said is, that the Pharisees against whom Jesus denounced his woes, or the Judaizers against whom Paul ful- minated, were people whom there could be no hope of gaining ; and that not their conversion, but a strong impression on the faithful who read or heard, was the thing aimed at, and very rightly aimed at. And so far, at any rate, as Christ's use of invective against the Pharisees is concerned, this may be quite true; but what a criticism is that which can gather hence any gen- eral defence of jealousy and objurgation as Chris- tian, or any particular defence of them as we see the Dissenters and Mr. Miall using them 1 For, in xiv PREFACE. the first place, such weapons can have no defence at all except as employed against individuals who are past hope, or against institutions which are palpably monstrosities; they can have none as employed against institutions containing at least half a great nation, and therefore a multitude of individuals good as well as bad. And therefore we see that Christ never dreamed of assailing the Jewish Church ; all he cared for was to transform it, by transforming as many as were transform- able of the individuals composing it. In the second place, when such means of action have a defence, they are defensible although violations of Christ's established rule of working, never com- mendable as exemplifications of it. Mildness and sweet reasonableness is the one established rule for Christian working, and no other rule has it or can it have. But, using the Bible in the mechan- ical and helpless way in which one uses it when one has hardly any other book, men fail to see this, clear as it is. And they do really come to imagine that the Dissenters' "spirit of watchful jealousy" may be a Christian temper; or that a movement like Mr. Miall's crusade against the Church of England may be a Christian work. And it is in this way that Christianity gets dis- credited. Now, simple as it is, It is not half enough under- stood, this reason for culture: namely, that to read to good purpose we must read a great deal, and be content not to use a great deal of what we read. We shall never be content not to use the whole, or nearly the whole, of what we read, un- less we read a great deal. Yet things are on such a scale, and progress is so gradual, and what one man can do is so bounded, that the moment we press the whole of what any writer says we XV PREFACE. fall into error. He touches a great deal; the thing to know is where he is all himself and his best self, where he shows his power, where he goes to the heart of the matter, where he gives us what no other man gives us, or gives us so well. In his valuable ''Church History," Dr. Stoughton says of Hooker: "The Puritan princi- ple of the authority and unehangeableness of a revealed Church polity Hooker substantially ad- mits. Although this deep thinker sometimes talks perilously of altering Christ's laws, he says: 'In the matter of external discipline itself, we do not deny but there are some things whereto the Church is bound till the world's end.' " Dr. Stoughton does not see that to use his Hooker in this way is entirely fallacious; Hooker, this "deep thinker," ae Dr. Stoughton truly calls him, one of the four great names of the English Church, is great by having, signally and above others, or before others and when others had not, the sense, in religion, of history, of historic development. So Butler is great by having the sense of philoso- phy, Barrow by having that of morals, Wilson that of practical Christianity. But if Hooker spoke, as he did, of Church history like a his- torian, and exploded the Puritan figment, due to a defective historic sense, of a revealed Church polity, a Scriptural Church order,— if Hooker did this, this was so new that he could not possibly do it without reservations, limitations, apologies ; he could not help saying, "We do not deny there may be some external things whereto the Church is eternally bound." But he is truly himself, he is the great Hooker, the man from whom we learn when he shatters the Puritan error, not when he uses the language of compliment and ceremony after shattering it. xvi PREFACE. In like manner that eloquent orator, Mr. Lid- don, looking about him for authorities which com- mend the Athanasian Creed, finds Hooker com- mending it, and quotes him as an authority. This, again, is to make a use of Hooker which has no soundness in it. Hooker's greatness is that he gives the real method of criticism for Church dogma, the historic method. Church dog- ma is not written in black and white in the Bible, he says ; it has to be collected from it ; it is, as we now say, a development from it. This and that dogma, says Hooker, "are in Scripture nowhere to be found by express literal mention, only de- duced they are out of Scripture by collection." And he assigns the one right criterion for de- termining whether a dogma is justly deduced, and what Scripture means, and what is its true char- acter: the criterion of reason. He assigns this with splendid boldness: "It is not the word of God itself," says he, "which doth, or possibly can, assure us that we do well to think it his word" ; no, it is reason, much-reviled reason. Surely this is enough to expect a sixteenth-century divine to give us in theology,— the very method of true sci- ence I without expecting him to make the full application of it, without expecting him to say that the Church dogmas of hie time, the dogma of the Athanasian Creed among the rest, which were not seriously in question yet, on which the Time-Spirit had not then turned his light, were false developments; without wondering at his saying that they were developments, "the neces- sity whereof is by none denied" 1 This is all that Hooker's warranty of the Athanasian Creed really comes to, or can come to. To fix the method by which the creed must finally be judged was the main issue for him; to judge the Creed by that 2 xvli PREFACE. method was a side issue, whereon he never really entered nor could enter, but treated the thing as already settled. Therefore Hooker is no real authority in favor of the Athanasian Creed; though we might think he was if we read him without discrimination. And to read him with discrimination, culture is necessary. Luther, again, Mr. Liddon cites as a witness on the question of the Athanasian Creed; and he might as well cite him as a witness on the ques- tion of the origin of species. Luther's greatness is in his revival of the sense of conscience and per- sonal responsibility, and in the fresh vigorous power which this sense, joined to his robust mother-wit, gave him in using the Bible. He had enough to do in attacking Romish developments from the Bible, which by their practical side were evidently, to a plain moral sense and a plain mother-wit, false developments, without attack- ing speculative dogma, which had no visible con- nection with practice, which had all antiquity in its favor, on which, as we say, the Time-Spirit had not then turned his light, of which— so Luther might say, like Hooker— "the necessity is by none denied." All this high speculative dogma he could not but affirm, and the more emphatically the more he questioned lower practical dogma. But his affirmation of it is not one of those things we can use; and whoever reads in the folios of Luther's works without passing lightly over very much, and, amongst it, over this, reads there ill. And without culture, without the use of so many books that he can afford not to over-use and mis-use one, ill a man is likely to read there. We can hardly urge this topic too much, of so great a practical importance is it, and above all at the present time. To be able to control what xviii PREFACE. one reads by means of the tact coming, in a clear and fair mind, from a wide experience, was never perhaps so necessary as in the England of our own day, and in theology, and in what concerns the Bible. To get the feicts, the data, in all mat- ters of science, but notably in theology and Bibli- cal learning, one goes to Germany. Germany, and it is her high honor, has searched out the facts and exhibited them. And without knowl- edge of the facte, no clearness or fairness of mind can in any study do anything; this cannot be laid down too rigidly. Now, English religion does not know the facts of its study, and has to go to Germany for them ; this is half apparent to English religion even now, and it will become more and more apparent. And so overwhelming is the advantage given by knowing the facts of a study, that a student who comes to a man who knows them is tempted to put himself into his hands altogether; and this we in general see English students do, when they have recourse to the theologians of Germany. They put themselves altogether into their hands, and take all that they give them, conclusions as well as facts. But they ought not to use them in this man- ner ; for a man may have the facts and yet be un- able to draw the right conclusions from them. In general, he may want power; as one may say of Dr. Strauss, for instance, that to what is unsolid in the New Testament he applies the historic method ably enough, but that to deal with the reality which is still left in the New Testament, requires a larger, richer, deeper, more imaginative mind than his. But perhaps the quality specially needed for drawing the right conclusion from the facts, when one has got them, is best called per- ception, delicacy of perception. And this no man PREFACE. can have who is a mere specialist, who has not what we call culture in addition to the knowledge of his particular study ; and many theologians, in Germany as well as elsewhere, are specialists. And even when we have added culture to special knowledge, a good fortune, a natural tact, a per- ception, must go with our culture, to make our criticism sure. And here is what renders criticism so large a thing: namely, that learning alone is not enough, one must have perception too. ^*I, wisdom, dwell with subtlety,^^ says the Wise Man ; and, taking subtlety in a good sense, this is most true. After we have acquainted ourselves with the best that has been known in the world, after we have got all the facts of our special study, fineness and delicacy of perception to deal with the facts is still required, and is, even, the prin- cipal thing of all. And in this the German mind, if one may speak in such a general way, does seem to be somewhat wanting. In the German mind, as in the German language, there does seem to be something splay, something blunt-edged, unhandy, and infelicitous, —some want of quick, fine, sure perception, which tends to balance the great superiority of the Ger- mans in knowledge, and in the disposition to deal impartially with knowledge. For impartial they are, as well as learned ; and this is a signal merit. While M. Barth^lemy St.-Hilaire cannot translate Aristotle without dragging in his pompous and false platitudes in glorification of the French gos- pel of the Rights of Man, while one English his- torian writes history to extol the Whigs and an- other to execrate the Church, German workers proceed in a more philosophical fashion. Still, in quickness and delicacy of perception they do seem to come short. XX PREFACE. Of course in a man of genius this delicacy and dexterity of perception is much less lacking ; but even in Germans of genius there seems some lack of it. Groethe, for instance, has less of it, one must surely own, than the great men of other nations whom alone one can cite as his liter- ary compeers : Shakespeare, Voltaire, Macchiavel, Cicero, Plato. Or, to go a little lower down, compare Bentley as a critic with Hermann ; Bent- ley treating Menander with Hermann treating Aeschylus. Both are on ground favorable to them; both know thoroughly, one may say, the facts of their case ; yet such is the diflference be- tween them, somehow, in dexterousness and sure- ness of perception, that the gifted English scholar is wrong hardly ever, whereas the gifted German scholar is wrong very often. And then every learned German is not gifted, is not a man of genius. Whether it be, as we have elsewhere speculated,* from race ; or whether this quickness and sureness of perception comes, rather, from a long practical conversance with great affairs, and only those nations which have at any time had a practical lead of the civilized world, the Greeks, the Romans, the Italians, the French, the English, can have it ; and the Germans have till now had no such practical lead, though now they have got it, and may now, therefore, acquire the practical dexterity of perception ; however this may be, the thing is so, and a learned German has by no means, in general, a fine and practically sure per- ception in proportion to his learning. Give a Frenchman, an Italian, an Englishman, the same knowledge of the facts, and you could, In general, trust his perception more than you can the Ger- man's. This, I say, shows how large a thing * On the Study of Celtic Literature, p. 97, xxi PREFACE. criticism is; since ev6n of those from whom we take what we now in theology most want, knowledge of the facts of our study, and to whom therefore we are, and ought to be, under deep obligations, even of them we must not take too much, or take anything like all that they offer; but we must take much and leave much, and must have experience enough to know what to take and what to leave. And without culture we cannot have this experience; although it is true that even culture itself, without good fortune and tact, will not fully give it. Still, our best and only chance of it is through means of culture. But it is for the Bible itself that this discrimina- tive experience, so necessary in all our theological studies, is most needed. And to our popular re- ligion it is especially difl&cult; because we have been trained to regard the Bible, not as a book whose parts have varying degrees of value, but as the Jews came to regard their Scriptures, as a sort of talisman given down to us out of Heaven, with all its parts equipollent. And yet there was a time when Jews knew well the vast difference there is between books like Esther, Chronicles, or Daniel, and books like Genesis or Isaiah; there was a time when Christians knew well the vast difference between the First Epistle of Peter and his so-called Second Epistle, or between the Epis- tle to the Hebrews and the Epistles to the Ro- mans or the Corinthians. This, indeed, is what makes the religious watchword of the British and Foreign School Society: The Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the Bible! so ingeniously (one must say it) absurd ; it is treating the Bible as Mahometans treat the Koran, as if it were a tahsman all of one piece, and with all its sen- tences equipollent. xxii PREFACE. Yet the very expressions, Canon of Scripture, Canonical Books, recall a time when degrees of value were still felt, and all parts of the Bible did not stand on the same footing, and were not taken equally. There was a time when books were read as part of the Bible which are in no Bible now ; there was a time when books, which are in every Bible now, were by many disallowed as genuine parts of the Bible. St. Athanasius re- jected the Book of Esther, and the Greek Chris- tianity of the East repelled the Apocalypse, and the Latin Christianity of the West repelled the Epistle to the Hebrews. And a true critical sense of relative value lay at the bottom of all these rejections. No one rejected Isaiah or the Epistle to the Romans; the books rejected were such books as those which we now print as the Apoc- rypha, or as the Book of Esther, or the Epistle to the Hebrews, or the so-called Epistle of Jude, or the so-called Second Epistle of St. Peter, or the two short Epistles following the main Epistle attributed to St. John, or the Apocalypse. Now, whatever value one may assign to these works, no sound critic would rate their intrinsic worth as high as that of the great undisputed books of the Bible. And so far from their finally getting where they are after a thorough trial of their claims, and with indisputable propriety, they got placed by the force of circumstances, by chance or by routine, rather than on their merits. Indeed, by merit alone the Book of Esther could have now no right to be in our Canon while Ecclesiasticus is not, nor the Epistle of Jude and the Second Epistle of Peter rather than the Epis- tle of Clement. But the whole discussion died out, not because the matter was sifted and settled and a perfect Canon of Scripture deliberately formed ; PREFACE. it died out as mediaeTal ignorance deepened, and because there was no longer knowledge or criti- cism enough left in the world to keep such a dis- cussion alive. And so things went on till the Renascence, when criticism came to life again. But the Church had now long since adopted the Vulgate, and her authority was concerned in maintaining what she had adopted. Luther and Calvin, on the other hand, recurred to the old true notion of a differ- ence in rank and genuineness among the Bible books. For they both of them insisted on the criterion of internal evidence for Scripture: "the witness of the Spirit." How freely Luther used this criterion, we may see by reading in the old editions of his Bible his prefaces, which in succeed- ing editions have long ceased to appear ; whether he used it aright we do not now inquire, but he used it freely. Taunted, however, by Rome with their divisions, their want of a fixed authority like the Church, Protestants were driven to make the Bible this fixed authority; and so the Bible came to be regarded as a thing all of a piece, endued with talismanic virtues. It came to be regarded as something different from anything it had originally ever been, or primitive times had ever imagined it to be. And Protestants did prac- tically in this way use the Bible more irrationally than Rome practically ever used it ; for Rome had her hypothesis of the Church Catholic endued with talismanic virtues, and did not want a talis- manic Bible too. All this has made a discriminat- ing use of the Bible-documents very difficult in our country ; yet without it a sound criticism of the Bible is impossible, and even, as we say, the very word Canon, the Canon of Scripture, points to such a use. xxiv PREFACE. But, indeed, there is hardly any great thing per- verted by men, which does not in some sort thus indicate its own perversion. The idea of the in- fallible Church Catholic itself, as we have else- where said,* is an idea the most fatal of all possi- ble ideas to the concrete so-called infallible Church of Rome, such as we see it. The infallible Church Catholic is, really, the prophetic soul of the wide world dreaming on things to come; the whole race, in its onward progress, developing truth more complete than the parcel of truth any mo- mentary individual can seize. Nay, even that amiable old pessimist in St. Peter's Chair, whose allocutions we read and call them impotent and vain,— the Pope himself is, in his idea, the very Time-Spirit taking flesh, the incarnate '*Zeit- Geist" I O man, how true are thine instincts, how over-hasty thine interpretations of them I But to return. Difficult, certainly, is the right reading of the Bible, and true culture, too, is difficult. For true culture implies not only knowl- edge, but right tact and delicacy of judgment, forming themselves by knowledge; without this tact it is not true culture. Difficult, however, as culture is, it is necessary. For, after all, the Bible is not a talisman, to be taken and used literally ; neither is any existing Church a talisman, what- ever pretensions of the sort it may make, for giv- ing the right interpretation of the Bible. Only true culture can give us this; so that if conduct is, as it is, inextricably bound up with the Bible and the right interpretation of it, then the impor- tance of culture becomes unspeakable. For if con- duct is necessary (and there is nothing so neces- sary), culture is necessary. And the poor require it as much as the rich; *St. Paul aud Protestantism, p. 156. XXV PREFACE. and at present their education, even when they get education, gives them hardly anything of it. Yet hardly less of it, perhaps, than the edu- cation of the rich gives to the rich. For when we say that culture is, to know the best that has been thought and said in the world, we imply that, for culture, a system directly tending to this end is necessary in our reading. Now, there is no such system yet present to guide the reading of the rich any more than of the poor. Such a system is hardly even thought of; a man who wants it must make it for himself. And our reading being so without purpose as it is, nothing can be truer than what Butler says, that really, in general, no part of our time is more idly spent than the time spent in reading. Still, culture is indispensably necessary, and culture is reading ; but reading with a purpose to guide it, and with system. He does a good work who does anything to help this ; indeed, it is the one essential service now to be rendered to edu- cation. And the plea, that this or that man has no time for culture, will vanish as soon as we de- sire culture so much that we begin to examine seriously our present use of our time. It has often been said, and cannot be said too often : Grive to any man all the time that he now wastes, not only on his vices (when he has them), but on use- less business, wearisome or deteriorating amuse- ments, trivial letter- writing, random reading, and he will have plenty of time for culture. ^'Die Zeit ist unendlich langy' says Groethe; and so it really is. Some of us waste all of it, most of us waste much ; but all of us waste some. XXVI Contents. PAGB Introduction . .... 29 Chapter I. Religion GiTen 36 n. Aberglaube Invading . . . 76 III. Religion New-Given . . 90 IV. The Proof From Prophecy 112 V. The Proof From Miracles . . . 119 VI. The New Testament Record 144 VII. The Testimony of Jesue to Himself 169 VIII. The Early Witnesses . . . 222 IX. Aberglaube Reinvading . . . 241 X. Our ''Masses" and The Bible . . 269 XI. The True Greatness of The Old Tes- tament .... . 291 XII. The True Greatness of Christianity 311 Conclusion 325 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. INTRODUCTION. Mr. Disraeli, treating Hellenic things with the scornful negligence natural to a Hebrew, said the other day, in a weU-known book, that our aristo- cratic class, the polite flower of the nation, were truly Hellenic in this respect among others,— that they cared nothing for letters, and never read. Now, there seems to be here some inaccuracy, if we take our standard of what is Hellenic from Hellas at its highest pitch of development; for the latest historian of Greece, Dr. Curtius, tells us that in the Athens of Pericles "reading was uni- versally diffused"; and, again, that "what more than anything distinguishes the Greeks from the barbarians of ancient and modem times, is the idea of a culture comprehending body and soul in an equal measure." And we have ourselves called our aristocratic class barbarians, which is the contrary of Hellenes, from this very reason : be- cause, with all their fine, fresh appearance, their open-air life, and their love for field-sports, for reading and thinking they have in general no turn. But no doubt Mr. Disraeli was thinking of the primitive Hellenes of Northwestern Greece, from among whom the Dorians of Peloponnesus originally came, but who themselves remained in their old seats, and did not migrate and develop like their more famous brethren; and of these primitive Hellenes, of Greeks like the Chaonians and Molossians, it is probably a very just account 29 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. to give, that they lived in the open air, loved field-sports, and never read. And, explained in this way, Mr. Disraeli's parallel of our aristocratic class with what he somewhat mieleadingly calls the old Hellenic race, appears ingenious and sound ; to those lusty northerners, the Molossian or Chaonian Greeks, — Greeks untouched by the development which contra-distinguishes the Hel- lene from the barbarian,— our aristocratic class, as he exhibits it, has a strong resemblance. At any rate, this class — which from its great possessions, its beauty and attractiveness, the admiration felt for it by the Philistines or middle-class, its actual power in the nation, and the still more consider- able destinies to which its politeness, in Mr. Car- lyle's opinion, entitles it, cannot but attract our notice pre-eminently — shows at present a great and genuine disregard for letters. And, perhaps, if there is any other body of men which strikes one, even after looking at our aris- tocratic class, as being In the sunshine, as exer- cising great attraction, as being admired by the Philistines or middle-class, and as having before it a future still more brilliant than its present, it is the friends of physical science. Now, their re- volt against the tyranny of letters is notorious. To deprive letters of the too great place they have hitherto filled in men's estimation, and to substi- tute other studies for these, is the object of a sort of crusade with a body of people important in itself, but still more important because of the gifted leaders who march at its head. Religion has always hitherto been a great power in England ; and, on this account, perhaps, whatever humiliations may be in store for re- ligion in the future, the friends of physical science will not object to our saying that, after them and 30 INTRODUCTION. the aristocracy, the leaders of the religious world fill a prominent place in the public eye even now, and one cannot help noticing what their opinions and likings are. And it is curious how the feeling of the chief people in the religious world, too, seems to be just now against mere letters, which they slight as the vague and inexact instrument of shallow essayists and magazine- wri ters ; and in favor of dogma, of a scientific and exact present- ment of religious things, instead of a literary pre- sentment of them. "Dogmatic theology," eays the "Guardian," speaking of our existing dog- matic theology, — "dogmatic theology, that is, precision and deGniteness of religious thought." "Maudlin eentimentalism," says the Dean of Nor- wich, "with its miserable disparagements of any de&nite doctrine; a nerve/eAS religion, without the sinew and bone of doctrine." The distinguished Chancellor of the University of Oxford thought it needful to tell us on a public occasion lately that "religion is no more to be severed from dogma than light from the sun." Every one, again, re- members the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester making, in Convocation, the other day, their re- markable effort "to do something," as they said, "for the honor of Our Lord's Godhead," and to mark their sense of "that infinite separation for time and for eternity which is involved in rejecting the Godhead of the Eternal Son." In the same way: "To no teaching," says one champion of dogma, "can the appellation of Christian be truly given which does not involve the idea of a Per- sonal God." Another lays like stress on correct ideas about the Personality of the Holy Ghost. "Our Lord unquestionably," eays a third, "an- nexes eternal life to a right knowledge of the Godhead,"— that is, to a right speculative, dog- 31 LITERATURE AND DOaMA. matic knowledge of it. A fourth appeals to his- tory and human nature for proof that *'an un- dogmatic Church can no more satisfy the hunger of the soul than a snowball, painted to look like fruit, would stay the hunger of the stomach." And all these friends of theological science are, like the friends of physical science, though from another cause, severe upon letters. Attempts made at a literary treatment of religious history and ideas they call ''a subverting of the faith once delivered to the saints"; those who make them they speak of as "those who have made shipwreck of the faith"; and when they talk of "the poison openly disseminated by infidels," and describe the "progress of infidelity," which more and more, according to their account, "denies God, rejects Christ, and lets loose every human passion," though they have the audaciousness of physical science most in their eye, yet they have a direct aim, too, at the looseness and dangerous temerity of letters. Keeping in remembrance the Scriptural comment on the young man who had great possessions, to be able to work a change of mind in our aris- tocratic class we never have pretended, we never shall pretend. But to the friends of physical sci- ence and to the friends of dogma we do feel em- boldened, after giving our best consideration to the matter, to say a few words on behalf of let- ters, and in deprecation of the slight which, on different grounds, they both put upon them. But particularly to the friends of dogma do we wish to insist on the case for letters, because of the great issues which seem to us to be here in- volved. Therefore we shall take leave, in spite of modern fashions, still to treat theology with so much respect as to give her the first place; and 32 INTRODUCTION. with the subject of the present volume, "literature and dogma,^^ we shall make our beginning. It is clear that dogmatists love religion,— for else why do they occupy themselves with it so much, and make it, most of them, the business, even the professional business, of their lives?— and clearly religion seeks man's salvation. How distressing, therefore, must it be to them to think that "salvation is unquestionably annexed to a right knowledge of the Godhead," and that a right knowledge of the Godhead depends upon reasoning, for which so many people have not much aptitude ; and upon reasoning from ideas or terms, such as substancCj identity, causation, de- sign, about which there is endless disagreement I It is true, a right knowledge of geometry also depends upon reasoning, and many people never get it ; but then, in the first place, salvation is not annexed to a right knowledge of geometry ; and in the second, the ideas or terms, such as pointy line, angle, from which we reason in geometry, are terms about which there is no ambiguity or disagreement. But as to the demonstrations and terms of theology we cannot comfort ourselves in this manner. How must this thought mar the Archbishop of York's enjoyment of such a solem- nity as that in which, to uphold and renovate religion, he lectured lately to Lord Harrowby, Dean Payne Smith, and other kindred souls, upon the theory of causation I And what a consola- tion to us, who are eo perpetually being taunted with our known inaptitude for abstruse reason- ing, if we can find that for this great concern of religion, at any rate, abstruse reasoning does not seem to be the appointed help, and that as good 3 33 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. or better a help— for, indeed, there can hardly, to judge by the present state of things, be a worse — may be something which is in an ordinary man's power 1 For the good of letters is that they require no extraordinary acuteness such as is required to handle the theory of causation like the Archbishop of York, or the doctrine of the Godhead of the Eternal Son like the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester. The good of letters may be had without skill in arguing, or that formidable log- ical apparatus, not unlike a guillotine, which Professor Huxley epeaks of somewhere as the young man's best companion, — and so it would be, no doubt, if all wisdom were come at by hard reasoning; in that case, all who could not man- age this apparatus (and only a few picked crafts- men can manage it) would be in a pitiable condi- tion. But the valuable thing in letters — that is, in the acquainting one's self with the best which has been thought and said in the world— is, as we have often remarked, the judgment which forms itself insensibly in a fair mind along with fresh knowledge; and this judgment almost any one with a fair mind, who will but trouble himself to try and make acquaintance with the best which has been thought and uttered in the world, may, if he is lucky, hope to attain to. For this judg- ment comes almost of itself; and what it dis- places it displaces easily and naturally, and with- out any turmoil of controversial reasonings. The thing comes to look differently to us, as we look at it by the light of fresh knowledge. We are not beaten from our old opinion by logic, we are not driven off our ground ; our ground itself changes with us. 3i INTKODUCTION. Far more of our mistakes come from want of fresh knowledge than from want of correct rea- soning; and, therefore, letters meet a greater want in us than does logic. The idea of a triangle is a definite and ascertained thing, and to deduce the properties of a triangle from it is an affair of rea- soning. There are heads unapt for this sort of work, and some of the blundering to be found in the world is from this cause. But how far more of the blundering to be found in the world comes from people fancying that some idea is a definite and ascertained thing, like the idea of a triangle, when it is not ; and proceeding to deduce properties from it, and to do battle about them, when their first start was a mistake I And how liable are people with a talent for hard, abstruse reasoning to be tempted to this mistake 1 And what can clear up such a mistake except a wide and familiar acquaintance with the human spirit and its productions, showing how ideas and terms arose, and what is their character? and this is letters and history, not logic. So that minds with small aptitude for abstruse reasoning may yet, through letters, gain some hold on sound judgment and useful knowledge, and may even clear up blunders committed, out of their very excess of talent, by the athletes of logic. 35 CHAPTER I. Religion Given. We have said elsewhere* how much it has con- tributed to the misunderstanding of St. Paul, that terms like grace, new birth, jnstMcatioBj—which. he used in a fluid and passing way, as men use terms in common discourse or in eloquence and poetry, to describe approximately, but only ap- proximately, what they have present before their mind, but do not profess that their mind does or can grasp exactly or adequately, — that such terms people have blunderingly taken in a fixed and rigid manner, as if they were symbols with as definite and fully grasped a meaning as the names line or angle, and proceeded to use them on this supposition ; terms, in short, which with St. Paul are literary terms, theologians have employed as if they were scientiSc terms. But if one desires to deal with this mistake thoroughly, one must observe it in that supreme term with which religion is filled, — the term God. The seemingly incurable ambiguity in the mode of employing this word is at the root of all our re- ligious differences and difl&culties. People use it as if it stood for a perfectly definite and ascertained idea, from which we might, without more ado, extract propositions and draw inferences, just as we should from any other definite and ascertained idea. For instance, I open a book which contro- verts what its author thinks dangerous views about religion, and I read : "Our sense of morality * Culture and Anarchy, p. 178. 36 RELIGION GIVEN. tells us so and so ; our sense of God, on the other hand, tells us so and so." And again, "the im- pulse in man to seek God" is distinguished, as if the distinction were self-evident and explained it- self, from "the impulse in man to seek his highest perfection." Now, morality represents for every- body a thoroughly definite and ascertained idea, — the idea of human conduct regulated in a certain manner. Everybody, again, understands dis- tinctly enough what is meant by man's perfec- tion, — his reaching the beet which his powers and circumstances allow him to reach. And the word "God" is used, in connection with both these words, Morality and Perfection, as if it stood for just as definite and ascertained an idea as they do; an idea drawn from experience, just as the ideas are which they stand for; an idea about which every one was agreed, and from which we might proceed to argue and to make inferences, with the certainty that, as in the case of moral- ity and perfection, the basis on which we were going every one knew and granted. But, in truth, the word "God" is used in most cases — not by the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester, but by mankind in general— as by no means a term of science or exact knowledge, but a term of poetry and eloquence, a term thrown out, so to speak, at a not fully grasped object of the speaker's con- sciousness, — a literary term, in short; and man- kind mean different things by it as their conscious- ness differs. The first question, then, is, how people are using the word, whether in this literary way, or in the scientific way of the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester. The second question is, what, sup- posing them to use the term ae one of poetry and eloquence, and to import into it, therefore, a great 37 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. from this. Yet Burely the difficulty of religion is great enough by itself, if men would but consider it, to satisfy the most voracious appetite for diffi- culties. It extends to Tightness in the whole range of what we call conduct; in three fourths, there- fore, at the very lowest computation, of human life. The only doubt is whether we ought not to make the range of conduct wider still, and to say it is four fifths of human life, or five sixths, ^ut it is better to be under the mark than over it ; so let us be content with reckoning conduct as three fourths of human life.. And to recognize in what way conduct is this, let us eschew all school-terms, like moral sense, and volitional, and altriiTStic, which philosophers employ, and let us help ourselves by the most palpable and plain examples. When the rich man in the Bible parable says, **Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry I" — those ^oocZs which he thus assigns as the stuff* with which human life is mainly concerned (and so in practice it really is),— those goods and our dealings with them,— our taking our ease, eating, drinking, and being merry, — are the matter of conduct, the range where it is exercised. Eating, drinking, ease, pleasure, money, the intercourse of the sexes, the ffiving free swing to one's temper and instincts, — these are the matters with which conduct is con- cerned, and with which all mankind know and feel it to be concerned. Or when Protagoras points out of what things we are, from childhood till we die, being taught and admonished, and says (but it is lamentable that here we have not at hand Mr. Jowett, who so excellently introduces the enchanter Plato and his personages, but must use our own words) : 40 RELIGION GIVEN. "From the time he can understand what is said to him, nurse and mother, and teacher, and father, too, are bending their efforts to this end,— to make the child good; teaching and showing him, as to everything he has to do or say, how this is right and that not right, and this is hon- orable and that vile, and this is holy and that un- holy, and this do and that do not" ; Protagoras, also, when he says this, bears his testimony to the scope and nature of conduct, tells us what con- duct is. Or, once more, when Monsieur Littr^ (and we hope to make our peace with the Com- tists by quoting an author of theirs in preference to those authors whom all the British public is now reading and quoting), when Monsieur Littr6, in a most ingenious essay on the origin of morals, traces up, better, perhaps, than any one else, all our impulses into two elementary instincts, the instinct of self-preservation and the reproductive instinct, then we take his theory and we say, that all the impulses which can be conceived as deriva- ble from the instinct of self-preservation in us and the reproductive instinct, these terms being ap- plied in their ordinary sense, are the matter of conduct. It is evident this includes, to say no more, every impulse relating to temper, every im- pulse relating to sensuality; and we all know how much that is. How we deal with these impulses is the matter of conduct, — how we obey, regulate, or restrain them,— that and nothing else. Not whether M. Littrg's theory is true or false; for whether it be true or false, there the impulses confessedly now are, and the business of conduct is to deal with them. But it is evident, if conduct deals with these, both how important a thing conduct is, and how simple a thing. Important, because it 41 LITEKATUBE AND DOGMA. deal of their own individual feelings and character, is yet the common substratum of idea on which, in using it, they all rest. For this will then be, so far as they are concerned, the scientific sense of the word, the sense in which we can use it for purposes of argument and inference without am- biguity. Is this substratum, at any rate, coinci- dent with the scientific idea of the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester?— will then be the question. Strictly and formally the word "God," we now learn from the philologists, means, like its kindred Aryan words Theos, Deus, and Deva, simply brilliant. In a certain narrow way, therefore, this is the one exact and scientific sense of the word. It was long thought to mean good, and so Luther took it to mean the best that man knows or can know; and in this sense, as a mat- ter of act and history, mankind constantly use the word. But then there is also the scientific sense held by theologians, deduced from the ideas of substance, identity, causation, design, and so on ; but taught, they say, or at least implied, in the Bible, and on which all the Bible rests. According to this scientific sense of theology, God is a per- son, the great first cause, the moral and intelli- gent governor of the universe; Jesus Christ con- substantial with him; and the Holy Ghost a person proceeding from the other two. This is the sense for which, or for portions of which, the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester are so zealous to do something. Other people, however, who fail to perceive the force of such a deduction from the abstract ideas above mentioned, who indeed think it quite hol- low, but who are told that this sense is in the Bible, and that they must receive it if they receive 38 EELIGION GIVEN. the Bible, conclude that in that case they had better receive neither the one nor the other. \^ome- thing of this sort it was, no doubt, which made Professor Huxley tell the London School Board lately, that * 'if these islands had no religion at all, it would not enter into his mind to introduce the religious idea by the agency of the Bible." ;0f such people there are now a great many ; and in- deed there could hardly, for those who value the Bible, be a greater example of the sacrifices one is sometimes called upon to make for the truth, than to find that, far the truth as held by the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester, if it is the truth, one must sacrifice the allegiance of so many peo- ple to the Bible. But surely, if there be anything with which metaphysics have nothing to do, and where a plain man, without skill to walk in the arduous paths of abstruse reasoning, may yet find himself at home, it is religion." For the object of religion is conduct; and conduct is really, however men may overlay it with philosophical disquisitions, the simplest thing in the world. That is to say, it is the simplest thing in the world as far as understanding is concerned ; as regards doing, it is the hardest thing in the world. Here is the diffi- culty, — to do what we very well know ought to be done ; and instead of facing this, men have searched out another with which they occupy themselves by preference, — the origin of what is called the moral sense, the genesis and physiology of conscience, and so on. No one denies that here, too, is difficulty, or that the difficulty is a proper object for the human faculties to be exercised upon ; but the difficulty here is speculative. It is not the difficulty of religion, which is a practical one; and it often tends to divert the attention 39 LITERATURE AND DOaMA. from this. Yet surely the difficulty of religion is great enough by itself, if men would but consider it, to satisfy the most voracious appetite for diffi- culties. It extends to rightness in the whole range of what we call conduct; in three fourths, there- fore, at the very lowest computation, of human life. The only doubt is whether we ought not to make the range of conduct wider still, and to say it is four fifths of human life, or five sixths. .JBut it is better to be under the mark than over it ; so let us be content with reckoning conduct as three fourths of human life.^ And to recognize in what way conduct is this, let us eschew all school-terms, like moral sense, and volitional, and altruistic, which philosophers employ, and let us help ourselves by the most palpable and plain examples. When the rich man in the Bible parable says, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry 1" — those ^oocfe which he thus assigns as the ^t\}S with which human life is mainly concerned (and so in practice it really is), — those goods and our dealings with them, — our taking our ease, eating, drinking, and being merry, — are the matter of conduct, the range where it is exercised. Eating, drinking, ease, pleasure, money, the intercourse of the sexes, the giving free swing to one's temper and instincts,— these are the matters with which conduct is con- cerned, and with which all mankind know and feel it to be concerned. Or when Protagoras points out of what things we are, from childhood till we die, being taught and admonished, and says (but it is lamentable that here we have not at hand Mr. Jowett, who so excellently introduces the enchanter Plato and his personages, but must use our own words) : 40 KELIGION GIVEN. "From the time he can understand what is said to him, nurse and mother, and teacher, and father, too, are bending their efforts to this end,— to make the child good; teaching and showing him, as to everything he has to do or say, how this is right and that not right, and this is hon- orable and that vile, and this is holy and that un- holy, and this do and that do not" ; Protagoras, also, when he says this, bears his testimony to the scope and nature of conduct, tells us what con- duct is. Or, once more, when Monsieur Littre (and we hope to make our peace with the Com- tists by quoting an author of theirs in preference to those authors whom aU the British public is now reading and quoting) , when Monsieur Littr^, in a most ingenious essay on the origin of morals, traces up, better, perhaps, than any one else, all our impulses into two elementary instincts, the instinct of self-preservation and the reproductive instinct, then we take his theory and we say, that all the impulses which can be conceived as deriva- ble from the instinct of self-preservation in us and the reproductive instinct, these terms being ap- plied in their ordinary sense, are the matter of conduct. It is evident this includes, to say no more, every impulse relating to temper, every im- pulse relating to sensuality; and we all know how much that is. How we deal with these impulses is the matter of conduct, — how we obey, regulate, or restrain them,— that and nothing else. Not whether M. Littr^'s theory is true or false; for whether it be true or false, there the impulses confessedly now are, and the business of conduct is to deal with them. But it is evident, if conduct deals with these, both how important a thing conduct is, and how simple a thing. Important, because it 41 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. covers so large a portion of human life, and the portion common to all sorts of people; simple, because, though there needs perpetual admonition to form conduct, the admonition is needed, not to determine what we ought to do, but to make us do it. And as to this simplicity, all moralists are agreed. "Let any plain, honest man," says Bishop Butler, "before he engages in any course of action" (he means action of the very kind we call conduct) f "ask himself, 'Is this I am going about right, or is it wrong? is it good, or is it evil?' I do not in the least doubt but that this question would be answered agreeably to truth and virtue by almost any fair man in almost any circum' stance." And Bishop Wilson says: "Look up to G-od" (by which he means just this, consult your conscience) "at all times, and he will, as in a glass, discover what is fit to be done." And the Preacher's well-known sentence is exactly to the same effect, "G-od made man upright; but they have sought out many inventions," — or, as it more correctly is, "manj abstruse reasonings." Let us hold fast to this, and we shall find we have a stay by the help of which even poor weak men, with no pretensions to be athletes, may stand firmly. And so, when we are asked, What is the object of religion? let us reply. Conduct. And when we are asked further. What is conduct? let us answer. Three fourths of Iife,~ -J 2. And certainly we need not go far about to prove that conduct, or "righteousness,'' which is the object of religion, is in a special manner the object of Bible religion. The word "righteousness" is 42 RELIGION GIVEN. the master-word of the Old Testament. "Keep judgment and do righteousness I Cease to do evil, learn to do welll" these words being taken in their plainest sense of conduct ; Offer the s&cri£ce, not of victims and ceremonies, as the way of the world in religion then was, but, Offer the sacrifice of lighteousness! The great concern of the New Testament is likewise righteousness, but right- eousness reached through particular means, right- eousness by the power of Christ. A sentence which sums up the New Testament, and assigns the ground whereon the Christian Church stands, is, as we have elsewhere said,* this : "Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from in- iquity 1" If we are to take a sentence which in like manner sums up the Old Testament, such a sentence is this: "0 ye that love the Eternal, see that ye hate the thing which is evil I to him that ordereth his conversation right shall be shown the salvation of God." But instantly there will be raised the objection that this is morality, not religion; morality, ethics, conduct, being by many people, and above all by theologians, carefully contra-distinguished from religion, which is supposed in some special way to be connected with propositions about the Godhead of the Eternal Son, like those for which the ^Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester want to do something, or propositions about the person- ality of God, or about election or justification. Religion, however, means simply either a binding to righteousness, or else a serious attending to righteousness and dwelling upon it ; which of these two it most nearly means, depends upon the view we take of the word's derivation; but it means one of them, and they are really much the same. * St. Paul and Protestantism, p. 169, 43 LITEBATURE AND DOGMA. And the antithesis between ethical and religious IB thus quite a false one. Ethical means practical, it relates to practice or conduct passing into habit or disposition. Religious also means prac- tical, but practical in a still higher degree; and the right antithesis to both ethical and religious is the same as the right antithesis to practical: namely, theoretical. Now, the propositions of the Bishops of Win- chester and Grlouceeter are theoretical, and they therefore are very properly opposed to proposi- tions which are moral or ethical; but they are with equal propriety opposed to propositions which are religious. They differ in kind from what is religious while what is ethical agrees in kind with it. But is there, therefore, no difference between what is ethical, or morality, and religion? There is a difference, a difference of degrees. -JRe- ligion, if we follow the intention of human thought and human language in the use of the word, is ethics heightened, enkindled, lit up by feeling ; the passage from morality to reli^on is made, when to morality is applied emotion.^ And the true meaning of religion is thus not simply morality, but morality touched by emotion. And this new elevation and inspiration of morality is well marked by the word "righteousness." t- Con- duet is the word of common life, morality is the word of philosophical disquisition, righteousness is the word of religion. Some people, indeed, are for calling all high thought and feeling by the name of religion ; ac- cording to that saying of Goethe, "He who has art and science has also religion." But let us use words as mankind generally use them. We may call art and science touched by emotion religion, if we will ; as we may make the instinct of eelf- 44 RELIGION GIVEN, preservation, into which M. Littre traces up all our private affections, include the perfecting our- selves by the study of what is beautiful in art; and the reproductive instinct, into which he traces up all our social affections, include the per- fecting mankind by political science. But men have not yet got to that stage, when we think much of either their private or their social affec- tions at all, except as exercising themselves in conduct; neither do we yet think of religion as otherwise exercising itself. When mankind speak of religion, they have before their mind an activity engaged, not with the whole of life, but with that three fourths of life which is conduct. This is wide enough range for one word, surely ; but at any rate, let us at present limit ourselves as man- kind do. And if some one now asks. But what is this ap- plication of emotion to moraUty, and by what marks may we know it? — we can quite easily satisfy him; not, indeed, by any disquisition of our own, but in a much better way, by examples. "By the dispensation of Providence to mankind," says Quintilian, "goodness gives men most pleas- ure."* That is morality. "The path of the just is as the shining light which shineth more and more unto the perfect day." That is morality touched with emotion or religion. "JHold off from sensuality," says Cicero; "f(fr, if you have given yourself up to it, you will find yourself unable to think of anything else."! That is morality. "Blessed are the pure in heart," says Jedhs; "for they shall see God." That is religion. "We all want to live honestly, but cannot," says the * Dedlt hoc Providentia homiuibus munus, ut honesta ma^ juvarent. t Sis a venerels amoribxis aversus ; qulbus si te dediderls, non allud quidquam possis cogitare quam illud quod dlUgls. 45 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. Greek maxim-maker.* That is morality. "0 wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death 1" says St. Paul. That is religion. *'Would thou wert of as good conversation in deed as in wordl" is morality.t "Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven, but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in Heaven 1" is religion. V'Live as you were meant to livel" is morality.t "Lay hold on eternal life I" is religion. Or we may take the contrast within the bounds of the Bible itself. "Love not sleep, lest thou come to poverty," is morality. "My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work," is religion.^ Or we may even observe a third stage between these two stages, which shows to us the transition from one to the other. "If thou givest thy soul the desires that please her, she will make thee a laughing-stock to thine enemies"; — that is morality. "He that resisteth pleasure crowneth his life" ; — that is morality with the tone heightened, passing, or trying to pass, into religion. "Flesh and blood cannot in- herit the kingdom of God" ; — there the passage is made, and we have religion. Our religious exam- ples are here all taken from the Bible, and from the Bible sifch examples can best be taken, but we might also find *them elsewhere. "0 that my lot might lead me in the path of holy innocence of thought and deed, the path which august laws ordain0 laws which in the highest heaven had their birth, neither did the race of mortal man beget them, nor shall oblivion ever put them to t ElO' ^ffOa via^pmv epya Toic ^dyoic lira. t Z^ffov Kara ^vtriv. 46 RELIGION GIVEN. sleep ; the power of God is mighty in them, and groweth not oldl" That is from Sophocles, but it is as much religion as any of the things which we have quoted as religious. Like them, it is not the mere enjoining of conduct, but it is this en- joining touched, strengthened, and almost trans- formed by the addition of feeling. So what is meant by the application of emo- tion to morality has now, it is to be hoped, been made clear. The next question will, I suppose, be, But how does one get the application made? Why, how does one get to feel much about any matter whatever? By dwelling upon it, by stay- ing our thoughts upon it, by having it perpetually in our mind. The very words mind, memory^ remain, come, probably, all from the same root, from the notion of staying, attending. Possibly even the word man comes from the same ; so en- tirely does the idea of humanity, of intelligence, of looking before and after, of raising one's self out of the flux of things, rest upon the idea of steady- ing one's self, concentrating one's self, making order in the chaos of one's impressions, by at- tending to one impression rather than the other. The rules of conduct, of morality, were l^em- selves, philosophers suppose, reached in this way ; — the notion of a whole self as opposed to a par- tial self, a best self to an inferior, to a momen- tary self a permanent self requiring the restraint of impulses a man would naturally have indulged ; —because, by attending to his life, man found it had a scope beyond the wants of the .present moment. Suppose it was so ; then the first man who, as "a being," comparatively, "of a large discourse, looking before and after," controlled the native, instantaneous, mechanical impulses of the instinct of self-preservation, controlled the 47 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. native, instantaneous, mechanical impulses of the reproductive instinct, had morality revealed to him. But there is a long way from this to that ha- bitual dwelling on the rules thus reached, that constant turning them over in the mind, that near and lively experimental sense of their bene- ficence, which communicates emotion to our thought of them, and thus incalculably heightens their power. And the more mankind attended to the claims of that part of our nature which does not belong to conduct, properly so called, or to morality (and we have seen that, after all, about one fourth of our nature is in this case), the more they would have distractions to take off their thoughts from those moral conclusions which all races of men, one may say, seem to have reached, and to prevent these moral conclusions from being quickened by emotion, and thus becoming relig- Only with one people, — the people from whom we get the Bible, — these distractions did not hap- pen. The Old Testament, I suppose nobody will deny, is filled with the word and thought of righteous- ness. "In the way of righteousness is life, and in the pathway thereof is no death" ; "Righteousness tendeth to life"; "The wicked man troubleth his own flesh" ; "The way of transgressors is hard" ; — nobody will deny that those texts may stand for the fundamental and ever-recurring idea of the Old Testament. No people ever felt so strongly as the people of the Old Testament, the Hebrew peo- ple, that conduct is three fourths of our life and its largest concern ; no people ever felt so strongly 48 RELIGION GIVEN. that succeeding, going right, hitting the mark in this great concern, was the way of peace, the highest possible satisfaction, "He that keepeth the law, happy is he ; its ways are ways of pleas- antness, and all its paths are peace ; if thou hadst walked in its ways, thou shouldet have dwelt in peace forever r* Jeshurun, one of the ideal names of their race, is the upiigbt; Israel, the other and greater, is the wrestler with God, he who has known the contention and strain it costs to stand upright. That mysterious personage, by whom their history first touches the hill of Sion, is Melchisedek, the righteous Idng,; their holy city, Jerusalem, is the foundation, or vision, or inherit- ance, of that which righteousness achieves, — peace. The law of righteousness was such an object of attention to them, that its words were to "be in their heart, and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up." To keep them ever in mind, they wore them, went about with them, m^e talismans of them; "Bind them upon thy fingers, bind them about thy neck ; write them upon the table of thine heart I" "Take fast hold of her," they said of the doctrine of conduct, or righteousness, "let her not gol keep her, for she is thy Me!" People who thus spoke of righteousness could not but have had their minds long and deeply engaged with it; much more than the generality of mankind, who have nevertheless, as we saw, got as far as the notion of morals or conduct. And, if they were so deeply attentive to it, one thing could not fail to strike them. It is this : the very great part in righteousness which belongs, 4 49 LITERATUBE AND DOGMA. we may eay, to not ourselves. In the first place, we did not make ourselves, or our nature, or con- duct as the object of three fourths of that nature; we did not provide that happiness should follow conduct, as it undeniably does ; that the sense of succeeding, going right, hitting the mark, in con- duct, should give satisfaction, and a very high satisfaction, just as really as the sense of doing well in his work gives pleasure to a poet or painter, or accomplishing what he tries gives pleasure to a man who is learning to ride or shoot; or as satisfying his hunger, also, gives pleasure to a man who is hungry. All this we did not make; and, in the next ' place, our dealing with it at all, when it is made, is not wholly, or even nearly wholly, in our power. Our conduct is capable, irrespective of what we can ourselves certainly answer for, of almost infinitely dififerent degrees of force and energy in the performance of it, of lucidity and vividness in the perception of it, of fulness in the satisfaction from it ; and these degrees may vary from day to day, and quite incalculably. Facili- ties and felicities, whence do they com^? sugges- tions and stimulations, where do they tend? hardly a day passes but we have some experience of them. And so Henry More was led to say "that there was something about us that knew better, often, what we would be at than we ourselves." For instance, every one can under- stand how health and freedom from pain may give energy for conduct, and how a neuralgia, suppose, may diminish it; it does not depend on ourselves, indeed, whether we have the neuralgia or not, but we can understand its impairing our spirit. But the strange thing is, that with the ■ame neuralgia we may find ourselves one day 50 RELIGION GIVEN. without spirit and energy for conduct, and an- other day with them. So that we may most truly say, "Left to ourselves, we sink and perish; visited, we lift up our heads and live."* And we may well give ourselves, in grateful and devout self-surrender, to that by which we are thus visited. So much is there incalculable, so much that belongs to not ourselves^ in conduct; and the more we attend to conduct, and the more we value it, the more we shall feel this. The not ourselves, which is in us and in the world round us, has almost everywhere, as far as we can see, struck the minds of men, as they awoke to consciousnesSj and has inspired them with awe. Every one knows how the mighty natural objects which most took their regards became the objects to which this awe addressed itself. Our very word God is a reminiscence of these times, when men invoked "The Brilliant on high," sublime hoc candens quod iavocent omnes Jovem, as the power representing to them that which transcended the limits of their narrow selves, and that by which they lived and moved and had their being. Every one knows of what differences of operation men's dealing with this power has in different places and times shown itself capable; how here they have been moved by the not ourselves to a cruel terror, there to a timid religiosity, there again to a play of imagina- tion; almost always, however, connecting with it, by some string or other, conduct. But we are not writing a history of religion ; we are only tracing its effect on the language of the men from whom we get the Bible. At the time they produced those documents which give * Rellctl merglmur et perimus, vlsitatt vero eriglmur et yivl- mua. 61 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. to the Old Testament its power and true char- acter, the not ourselves which weighed upon the mind of Israel, and engaged its awe, was the not ourselves by which we get the sense for righteous- ness and whence we find the help to do right. This conception was indubitably what lay at the bottom of that remarkable change which, under Moses, at a certain stage of their religious history, befell their mode of naming God ; this was what they intended in that name, which we wrongly convey either without translation, by Jehovah, which gives us the notion of a mere mythological deity, or by a wrong translation, Lord, which gives us the notion of a magnified and non-nat- ural man. The name they used was : The Eternal. Philosophers dispute whether moral ideas, as they call them, the simplest ideas of conduct and righteousness which now seem instinctive, did not all grow, were not once inchoate, embryo, dubi- ous, unformed ; that may have been so ; the ques- tion is an interesting one for science. But the interesting question for conduct is whether those ideas are unformed or formed now; they are formed now, and they were formed when the Hebrews named the power, out of themselves, which pressed upon their spirit: The Eternal. Probably the life of Abraham, the Mend of God, however imperfectly the Bible traditions by them- selves convey it to us, was a decisive step for- wards in the development of these ideas of right- eousness. Probably this was the moment when such ideas became fixed and solid for the Hebrew people, and marked it permanently off from all others who had not made the same step. But long before the first beginnings of recorded his- tory, long before the oldest word of Bible litera- ture, these ideas must have been at work; we 52 RELIGION GIVEN. know it by the result, although they may have for a long while been but rudimentary. In Israel's earliest history and earliest literature, under the name of Eloah, Elohim, The Mighty, there may have lain and matured, there did lie and mature, ideas of God more as a moral power, more as a power connected above everything with conduct and righteousness, than were entertained by other races ; not only can we judge by the result that this must have been so, but we can see that it was so. Still their name, The Mighty, does not in itself involve any true and deep religious ideas, any more than our name, The Brilhant, With The Eternal it is otherwise. For what did they mean by the Eternal; the Eternal what? The Eternal cause? Alas, these poor people were not Archbishops of York. They meant the Eternal righteous, who loveth righteousness. They had dwelt upon the thought of conduct and right and wrong, till the not ourselves which is in us and around us became to them adorable eminently and altogether as a power which makes for right- eousness; which makes for it unchangeably and eternally, and is therefore called The Eternal, There is not a particle of metaphysics in their use of this name, any more than in their concep- tion of the not ourselves to which they attached it. Both came to them, not from abstruse reason- ing, but from experience, and from experience in the plain region of conduct. Theologians with metaphysical heads render Israel's Eternal by, the self-existent, and Israel's not ourselves by the absolute, and attribute to Israel their own subtle- ties. According to them, Israel had his head full of the necessity of a first cause, and therefore said. The Eternal; as, again, they imagine him looking out into the world, noting everywhere the 53 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. marks of design and adaptation to his wants, and reasoning out and inferring thence the father- hood of Grod. All these fancies come from an excessive turn for reasoning, and a neglect of ob- serving men's actual course of thinking and way of using words. Israel, at this stage when The Eternal was revealed to him, inferred nothing, reasoned out nothing. He felt and experienced. When he begins to speculate in the schools of Rabbinism, he quickly shows how much lees na- tive talent than the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester he has for this perilous business. Happily, when The Eternal was revealed to him, he had not yet begun to speculate. He per- sonified, indeed, his Eternal, for he was strongly moved, and an orator and poet. "Man never knows how anthropomorphic he is," says Goethe, and so man tends always to represent everything under his own figure. In poetry and eloquence, man may and must follow this tendency, but in science it often leads him astray. Israel, how- ever, did not scientifically predicate personality of God ; he would not even have had a notion what was meant by it. He called him the maker of all things, who gives drink to all out of his pleasures as out of a river ; but he was led to this by no theory of a first cause. The grandeur of the spec- tacle given by the world, the grandeur of the sense of its all being not ourselves, being above and beyond ourselves and immeasurably dwarfing us, a man of imagination instinctively personifies as a single mighty living and productive power; as Goethe tell us that the words which rose natu- rally to his lips, when he stood on the top of the Brocken, were: "Lord, what is man, that thou mindest him, or the son of man, that thou makest account of him?" But Israel's confessing and ex- 54 RELIGION aiVEN. tolling of this power came not even from his im- aginative feeling, but came first from his gratitude for righteousnees. To one who knows what con- duct is, it is a joy to be alive; the not ourselves^ which by revealing to us righteousness makes our happiness, adds to the boon this glorious worid to be righteous in. That is the notion at the bottom of the He- brew's praise of a Creator ; and if we attend, we can see this quite clearly. Wisdom and understand- ing mean, for Israel, "the fear of the Eternal" ; and the fear of the Eternal means for him **to depart from evil," righteousness. Righteousness, order, conduct, is for him the essence of .The Eternal, and the source of all man's happiness; and it is only as a further and natural working of this essence that he conceives creation. "The fear of the Eternal, that is wisdom ; and to de- part from evil, that is understanding I Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding I She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, and happy is every one that retaineth her. The Eternal by wisdom hath founded the earth, by understanding hath he established the heavens" ;— and so the Bible writer passes into the account of creation. It all comes to him from the idea of righteousness. And it is the same with all the language our Hebrew speaker uses. Grod is a fkther, because the power in and around us which makes for righteousness is indeed best described by the name of this authoritative but yet tender and protect- ing relation. So, too, with the intense fear and abhorrence of idolatry. Conduct, righteousness, is, above all, an inward motion and rule; no sensible forms can represent it, or help us to it; ■uch attempts at representation can only distract 55 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. us from it. So, too, with the sense of the oneness of God. "Hear, Israeli The Lord our God is one Lord." People think that in this unity of God — this monotheistic idea, as they call it — they have certainly got metaphysics at last. It is nothing of the kind. The monotheistic idea of Israel is simply seriousness. There are, indeed, many aspects of the not ourselves; but Israel re- garded one aspect of it only, that by which it makes for righteousness. He had the advantage, to be sure, that with this aspect three fourths of human life is concerned. But there are other as- pects which may be taken. "Frail and striving mortality," says the elder Pliny, in a noble pas- sage, "mindful of its own weakness, has distin- guished these aspects severally, so as for each man to be able to attach himself to the divine by this or that part, according as he has most need." That is an apology for polytheism, as answering to man's many-sidedness. But Israel felt that being thus many-sided degenerated into an im- aginative play, and bewildered what Israel recog- nized as our sole religious consciousness, — the consciousness of right. "Let thine eyelids look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee ; turn not to the right hand nor to the left ; remove thy foot from evill" Does not Ovid say,* in excuse for the immo- rality of his verses, that the sight and mention of the gods themselves — the rulers of human life — often raised immoral thoughts? and so the sight and mention of all aspects of the not ourselves must. Yet how tempting are many of these as- pects I Even at this time of day, the grave au- *Tristia, II. 387. *' Quia locus est templls augustlor ? hsec quoque vitet In culpam si qua est ingenlosa euam." See the whole passage. 56 EELIGION GIVEN. thorities of the Uniyersity of Cambridge are so struck by one of them, that of pleasure, life, and fecundity, — of the hommum divomque voluptas, alma Venus, — that they set it publicly up as an object for their scholars to fix their minds upon, and to compose yerses in honor of. That is all yery well at present; but with this natural bent in the authorities of the TJniyersity of Cambridge, and in the Indo-European race to which they be- long, where would they be now if it had not been for Israel, and the stem check which Israel put upon the glorification and divinization of this natural bent of mankind, this attractiye aspect of the not ourselves? Perhaps going in procession, Vice-Chancellor, bedels, masters, scholars, and all, in spite of their Professor of Moral Philosophy, to the temple of Aphrodite I Nay, and yery likely Mr. Birks himself, his brows crowned with myrtle and scarcely a shade of melancholy on his counte- nance, would haye been going along with them I It is Israel and his seriousness that haye sayed the authorities of the University of Cambridge from carrying their diyinization of pleasure to these lengths, or from making more of it, indeed, than a mere passing intellectual play; and eyen this play Israel would haye beheld with displeas- ure, saying, **0 turn away mine eyes lest they behold yanity, but quicken Thou me in thy lawl" So earnestly and exclusiyely were Israel's regards bent on one aspect of the not ourselves: its aspect as a power making for conduct, righteousness. Israel's Eternal was the Eternal which says, "To depart from eyil, that is understanding!" "Be ye hoty, for I am holyT Now, as righteousness is \ but a heightened conduct, so holiness is but a • heightened righteousness ; a more finished, entire, and awe-filled righteousness. It was such a 57 LITERATUBE AND DOGMA. righteousness which "was Israel's ideal; and there- fore it was that Israel said, not indeed what our Bibles make him say, but this: ''Hear, O Israeli The Eternal is our God, The Eternal alone." And in spite of his turn for personification, his want of a clear boundary line between poetry and science, his inaptitude to express even abstract notions by other than highly concrete terms, — in spite of these scientific disadyantages, or rather, perhaps, because of them, because he had no talent for abstruse reasoning to lead him astray, —the spirit and tongue of Israel kept a propriety, a reserve, a sense of the inadequacy of language in conveying man's ideas of God, which contrast strongly with the license of affirmation in our Western theology. "The high and holy One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is holy," is far more proper and felicitous language, than, "the moral and intelligent Governor of the universe," just because it far less attempts to be precise, but keeps to the language of poetry and does not essay the language of science. As he had devel- oped his idea of God from personal experience, Israel knew what we, who have developed our idea from his words about it, so often are igno- rant of: that his words were but thrown out at a vast object of consciousness, which he could not fully grasp, and which he apprehended clearly by one point alone, — that it made for the great con- cern of life, conduct. How little we know of it besides, how impenetrable is the course of its ways with us, how we are baffled in our attempts to name and describe it, how, when we personify it and call it "the moral and intelligent Governor of the universe," we presently find it not to be a person as man conceives of person, nor moral as man conceives of moral, nor intelligent as man 58 RELIGION GIVEN. conceives of intelligent, nor a governor as man conceives of governors,— all this, which scientific theology loses sight of, Israel, who had but poetry and eloquence, and no system, and who did not mind contradicting himself, knew. "Is it any pleasure to the Almighty, that thou art right- eous?" What a blow to our ideal of that mag- nified and non-natural man, "the moral and in- telligent Governor"! Say what we can about God, say our best, we have yet, Israel knew, to add instantly: "Lo, these are parts of his ways; but how little a portion is heard of him I" Yes, indeed, Israel remembered that, far better than our bishops do. "Canst thou by searching find out God ; canst thou find out the perfection of the Almighty? It is more high than heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know?" Will it be said, experience might also have shown to Israel a not ourselves which did not make for his happiness, but rather made against it, baffled his claims to it? But no man, as we have elsewhere remarked, who simply follows his own consciousness, is aware of any claims^ any riglits, whatever;* what he gets of good makes him thankful, what he gets of ill seems to him natural. It is true, the not ourseives of which he is thankfully conscious he inevitably speaks of and speaks to as a man; for "man never knows how anthropomorphic he is." As time proceeds, im- agination and reasoning keep working upon this substructure, and build from it a magnified and non-natural man. Attention is then drawn, after- wards, to causes outside ourselves which seem to make for sin and sufiering ; and then either these' causes have to be reconciled by some highly in- *CaiUire and Anarcliy, p. 214. 59 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. genious scheme with the magnified and non- natural man's power, or a second magnified and non-natural man has to be supposed, who pulls the contrary way to the first. So arise Satan and his angels. But all this is secondary, and comes much later ; Israel, the founder of our re- ligion, did not begin with this. He began with experience. He knew from thankful experience the not ourselves which makes for righteousness, and knew how little we know about God besides. ijrhe language of the Bible, then, is literary, not scientific language; language tiirowD out at an ob- ject of consciousness not fully grasped, which in- spired emotion^ Evidently, if the object be one not fully to be grasped, and one to inspire emotion, the language of figure and feeling will satisfy us bet- ter about it, will cover more of what we seek to express, than the language of literal fact and sci- ence; the language of science about it will be below what we feel to be the truth. The question however has arisen and confronts us ; what was the scientific basis of fact for this consciousness. When we have once satisfied our- selves both as to the tentative, poetic way in which the Bible personages used language, and also as to their having no pretensions to meta- physics at all, let us, therefore, when there is this question raised as to the scientific account of what they had before their minds, be content with a very unpretending answer. And in this way such a phrase as that which we have for- merly used concerning Grod, and have been much blamed for using,— the phrase, namely, that, "for science, Grod is simply the stream of tendency by which all things fulfil the law of their being,"— 60 RELIGION GIVEN. may be allowed, and even prove useful. Certainly it is inadequate; certainly it is a less proper phrase than, for instance: "Clouds and darkness are round about him, righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his seat.''* But then it is, in however humble a degree and with however narrow a reach, a scienti&c definition, which the other is not. The phrase, "A Personal First Cause, the moral and intelligent Governor of the universe," has also, when applied to God, the character, no doubt, of a scientific definition ; but then it goes far beyond what is admittedly cer- tain and verifiable, which is what we mean by scientific. It attempts far too much ; if we want here, as we do want, to have what is admittedly^ certain and verifiable, we must content ourselves with very little. No one will say, that it is ad- mittedly certain and verifiable, that there is a per- sonal first cause, the moral and intelligent gov- ernor of the universe, whom we may call God if we will. But that all things seem to us to have what we call a law of their being, and to tend to fulfil it, is certain and admitted ; though whether we will call this God or not is a matter of choice. Suppose, however, we call it God, we then give the name of God to a certain and admitted real- ity; this, at least, is an advantage. And the notion does, in fact, enter into the term God, in men's common use of it. To please God, to serve God, to obey God's will, does mean * It iias been urged that If ttils personifying mode of expression is more proper and adequate. It must also be more sclentlflcally exact. But surely it must on reflection appear tMt this is by no means so. Wordsworth calls tiie earth "the mighty mother of mankind," and the geographers call her " an oblate spheroid " ; Wordsworth's expression is more proper and adequate to convey what men feel about the earth, but it is not therefore the more scientlflcaUy exact. 61 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. to follow a law of things which is found in con- science, and which is an indication, irrespective of our arbitrary wish and fancy, of what we ought to do. There is, then, a real power which makes for righteousness; and it is the greatest of reali- ties for us. When Paul says, our business is "to serve the spirit of God," "to serve the living and true God" ; and when Epictetus says, "What do I want? to acquaint myself with the true order of things, and comply with it," — they both mean, so far, the same, in that they both mean we should obey a tendency, which is not ourselves, but which appears in our consciousness, by which things fulfil the real law of their being. It is true, the not ourselves, by which things fulfil the real law of their being, extends a great deal beyond that sphere where alone we usually think of it. That is, a man may disserve God, disobey indications not of our own making but which appear, if we attend, in our consciousness, — he may disobey, I say, such indications of the real law of our being in other spheres besides the sphere of conduct. He does disobey them, when he sings a hymn like, "My Jesus to know, and feel his blood flow," or, indeed, like nine tenths of our hymns, or when he frames and maintains a blun- dering and miserable constitution of society, as well as when he commits some plain breach of the moral law. That is, he may disobey them in art and science as well as in conduct. But he attends, and the generality of men attend, only to the indications of a true law of our being as to con- duct; and hardly at all to indications, though they as really exist, of a true law of our being on its aesthetic and intelligential side. The rea- son is, that the moral side, though not more real, is so much larger; taking in, as we have said, at 62 RELiaiON GIVEN. least three fourths of life. Now, the indications on this mora/ side of that tendency, not of our mak- ing, by which things fulfil the law of their being, we do very much mean to denote and to sum up when we speak of the will of God^ pleasing God, serving God, Let us keep firm footing on this basis of plain fact, narrow though it may be. To feel that one is fulfilling in any way the law of one's being, that one is succeeding and hitting the mark, brings us, we know, happiness ; to feel this in regard to so great a thing as conduct brings, of course, happiness proportionate to the thing's greatness. We have already had Quin- tilian's witness, how right conduct gives joy. Who could value knowledge more than Goethe? but he marks it as being without question a lesser source of joy than conduct; conduct he ranks with health as beyond all compare primary. "Noth- ing, after health and virtue,' ' he says, "can give so much satisfaction as learning and knowing." Nay, and Bishop Butler, at the view of the happi- ness from conduct, breaks free from all that hesi- taney and depression which so commonly hangs on his masterly thinking. "Self-love, methinks, should be alarmed I May she not pass over greater pleasures than those she is so wholly taken up with?" And Bishop Wilson, always hitting the right nail on the head in matters of this sort, remarks that, "if it were not for the practical diflaculties attending it, virtue would hardly be distinguishable from a kind of sensu- ality." The practical difficulties are indeed exceed- ing great; plain as is the course, and high the prize, we all find ourselves daily led to say, with the Imitation, "Would that foi one single day we had lived in this world as we ought 1" Yet the course is so evidently plain, and the prize so high, 63 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. that the same Imitation cries out presently, "If a man would but take notice, what peace he brings himself, and what joy to others, merely by managing himself right I" And for such happi- ness, since certainly we ourselves did not make it, we instinctively feel grateful; according to that remark of one of the wholesomest and truest of moralists, Barrow: "He is not a man who doth not delight to make some returns thither whence he hath found great kindness." And this sense of gratitude, again, is itself an addition to our hap- piness I So strong, altogether, is the witness and sanction happiness gives to going right in con- duct, to fulfilling, so far as conduct is concerned, the law indicated to us of our being ; and there can be no sanction to compare, for force, with the strong sanction of happiness, if it is true what Bishop Butler, who is here but the mouthpiece of humanity itself, says so irresistibly: "It is mani- fest that nothing can be of consequence to man- kind, or any creature, but happiness." And now let us see how exactly Israel's per- ceptions about Grod follow and confirm this simple line, which we have here reached quite indepen- dently. First: "It isjoj^to the just to do judg- ment." Then: "It becometh well the just to be thankfal" Finally: "A pleasant thing it is to be thankful." What can be simpler than this, and at the same time more soUd? But again: "There is nothing sweeter than to take heed unto the com- mandments of the Eternal" And then: "Thou art my portion, O Eternal! at midnight will I rise to give thanks unto thee because of thy right- eous judgments." And lastly: "0 praise the Eternal, for it is a good thing to sing praises unto our God!" Why, these are the very same propositions as the others, only with a power 64: BELIGION GIVEN. and depth of emotion added t Emotion has been applied to morality. ]^God is here really, at bottom, a deeply moved way of saying conduct or righteousness, "Trust in God^^ is trust in the law of conduct; "delight in the Etemal" is, in a deeply moved way of ex- pression, the happiness we all feel to spring from conduc^ Attending to conduct, to judgment, makes ffie attender feel that it is joy to do it; attending to it more still makes him feel that it is the commandment of the Eternal, and that the joy got from it is joy got from fulfilling the com- mandment of the Eternal. The thankfulness for this joy is thankfulness to the Eternal ; and to the Eternal, again, is due that further joy which comes from this thankfulness. "The fear of the Eternal, that is wisdom ; and to depart from evil, that is understanding.'* "The fear of the Eternal" and "To depart from evil" here mean, and are put to mean, and, by the very laws of Hebrew composition which make the second phrase in a parallelism repeat the first in other words, they must mean, just the same thing. Yet what man of soul, after he had once risen to feel that to depart from evil was to walk in awful observance of an enduring clew, within us and without us, which leads to happiness, but would prefer to say, instead of "to depart from evil," "the fear of the Eternal"? Henceforth, then, Israel transferred to this Eternal all his obligations. Instead of saying, "Whoso keepeth the commandment keepeth his own soul," he rather said, "My soul, wait thou still upon God, for of him cometh my salvation I" Instead of saying, "Bind them (the laws of right- eousness) continually upon thine heart, and tie them about thy neckl" he rather said, "Have I 5 65 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. not remembered Thee on my bed, and thought of Tbee when I was waking?" The obligation of a grateful and devout eelf-eurrender to the Eternal replaced all sense of obligation to one's own better self, one's own permanent welfare. The moralist's rule: *'Take thought for your perma- nent, not your momentary, well-being," became now: * 'Honor the Eternal, not doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speak- ing thine own words I" That is, with Israel re- JjgioB replaced morality. Lit is true, out of the humble yet divine ground of attention to conduct, of care for what in con- duct is right and wrong, grew morality and re- ligion both; but, from the time the soul felt the motive of religion, it dropped and could not but drop the other.j And the motive of doing right, to a sincere soul, is now really no longer his own welfare, but to please God; and it bewilders his consciousness if you tell him that he does right out of self-love. So that as we have said that the first man who, as ''a being of a large discourse, looking before and after," controlled the blind momentary impulses of the instinct of self-preser- vation, controlled the blind momentary impulses of the sexual instinct, had morality revealed to him ; so in like manner we may say, that the first, man who was thrilled with gratitude, devotion, and awe at the sense of joy and peace, not of his own making, which followed the exercise of this self-control, had religion revealed to him. And, for us at least, this man was Israel. And here, as we have already pointed out the falseness of the common antithesis between ethical and religious, let us anticipate the objection that the religion now spoken of is but natural religion, by pointing out the falseness of the common 66 RELIGION GIVEN. antithesis, also, between natural and revealed. For that in us which is really natural is, in truth, revealed. We awake to the consciousness of it, we are aware of it coming forth in our mind ; but we feel that we did not make it, that it is discovered to us, that it is what it is whether we will or no. If we are little concerned about it, we say it is natural; if much, we eay it is revealed. But the difference between the two is not one of kind, only of degree. The real antithesis, to natural and revealed alike, is invented, artMcial. Ke- ligion springing out of an experience of the power, the grandeur, the necessity of righteousness, is re- vealed religion, whether we find it in Sophocles or Isaiah; "the will of mortal men did not beget it, neither shall oblivion ever put it to sleep." A system of theological notions about personality, essence, existence, consubstantiality, is arti£cial religion, and is the proper opposite to revealed; since it is a religion which comes forth in no one's consciousness, but is invented by the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester, and personages of their stamp,— able men with uncommon talents for abstruse reasoning. This religion is in no sense revealed, just because it is in no sense nat- ural ; and revealed reUgion is properly so named, just in proportion as it is in a pre-eminent degree natural. The religion of the Bible, therefore, is well said to be revealed J because the great natural truth, that "Righteousness tendeth to life," is seized and exhibited there with such incomparable force and efficacy. All, or very nearly all, the nations of mankind have recognized the importance of con- duct, and have attributed to it a natural obliga- tion. They, however, looked at conduct, not as something full of happiness and joy, but as some- 67 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. thing one could not manage to do without. But : "Zion heard of it and rejoiced, and the daughters of Judah were glad, because of thy judgments, Eternal I" Happiness is our being's end and aim, and no one has ever come near Israel in feeling, and in making others feel, that "to righteousness belongs happiness I" The prodigies and the mar- vellous of Bible-religion are common to it with all religions; the love of righteousness, in this em- inency, is its own. 5. UThe real germ of religious consciousness, there- fore, out of which sprang Israel's name for Grod, to which the records of his history adapted them- selves, and which came to be clothed upon, in time, with a mighty growth of poetry and tradi- tion, was a consciousness of the not ourselves which makes for righteousness.^ And the way to convince one's self of this is by studying their lit- erature with a fair mind, and with the tact which letters, surely, alone can give. For the thing turns upon understanding the manner in which men have thought, their way of using words, and what they mean by them. And if to know letters is to know the best that has been thought and uttered in the world, then, by knowing letters, we become acquainted not only with the history, but also with the scope and powers, of the instru- ments men employ in thinking and speaking. And this is just what is sought for. And with the sort of experience thus gained, objections, as we have said, will be found not so much to be refuted by logical reasoning as to fall of themselves. Is it objected: "Why, if the He- brews of the Bible had thus eminently the sense for righteousness, does it not equally distinguish the Jews now?" But does not experience show 68 RELIGION GIVEN. ua, how entirely a change of circumstances may change a people's character; and have the modern Jews lost more of what distinguished their an- cestors, or even so much, as the modern Greeks of what distinguished theirs? Where is now, among the Greeks, the dignity of life of Pericles, the dig- nity of thought and of art of Phidias and Plato? Is it objected, that the Jews' God was not the enduring power that makes for righteousness, but only their tribal God, who gave them the victory in the battle, and plagued them that hated them? But how, then, comes their literature to be full of such things as: *'Show me thy ways, Eternal, and teach me thy paths; let integrity and np- rightness preserve me, for I put my trust in thee ! if I incline unto wickedness with my heart, the Eternal will not hear me, for they who do no wickedness walk in his ways." From the sense that with men thus guided and going right in goodness it could not but be well, that their leaf could not wither, and that whatsoever they did must prosper, would naturally come the sense that in their wars with an enemy the enemy should be put to confusion and tbey should tri- umph. But how, out of the mere sense that their enemy should be put to confusion and they should triumph, could the desire for goodness come? Is it objected, that "the law of the Lord" was a positive traditionary code to them, standing as a mechanical rule which held them in awe? that their "fear of the Lord" was superstitious dread of an assumed, magnified, and non-natural man? But why, then, are they always saying: ^'Teach me thy law, open mine eyes, make me to under- stand wisdom secretly!" if all the law they were thinking of stood stark and fixed before their eyes already? And what could they mean by: "I will 69 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. Jove thee, Eternal, my strength 1" if the fear they meant was not the awe-filled observance from deep attachment, but a servile terror? Is it objected, that their conception of righteousness was a narrow and rigid one, centring mainly in what they caXled Judgment : "Hate the evil and love the good, and establish judgment in the gatel" so that *'evil," for them, did not take in all faults whatever of heart and conduct, but meant chiefly oppression, graspingness, a violent, mendacious tongue, insolent and riotous excess? True, their conception of righteousness was much of this kind, and it was narrow. But whoever sincerely attends to conductj along however lim- ited a line, is on his way to bring under the eye of conscience all conduct whatever ; and already, in the Old Testament, the somewhat monotonous inculcation of the social virtues of judgment and justice is continually broken through by deeper movements of personal religion. Every time that the words contrition or humility drop from the lips of prophet or psalmist, Christianity appears. Is it objected, finally, that even their own narrow conception of righteousness this people could not follow, but were perpetually oppressive, grasping, slanderous, sensual? Why, the very interest and importance of their witness to righteousness lies in their having felt so deeply the necessity of what they were so little able to accomplish 1 They had the strongest impulses in the world to violence and excess, the keenest pleasure in gratifying these impulses. And yet they had such a sense of the natural, necessary connection between conduct and happiness, that they kept always saying, in spite of themselves : "To him that ordereth his con- versation right shall be shown the salvation of Godl'^ 70 RELIGION GIVEN. Now manifestly this sense of theirs has a double force for the rest of mankind, — an evidential force and a practical force. Its evidential force is in keeping in men's view, by the example of the sig- nal apparition in one branch of our race of the sense for conduct and righteousness, the reality and naturalness of that sense. Clearly, unless a sense or endowment of human nature, however in itself real and beneficent, has some signal repre- sentative among mankind, it tends to be pressed upon by other senses and endowments, to suffer from its own want of energy, and to be more and more pushed out of sight. /Any one, for instance, who will go to the Potteries, and will look at the tawdry, glaring, ill-proportioned ware which is being made there for certain American and colo- nial markets, will easily convince himself how, in our people and kindred, the sense for the arts of design, though it is certainly planted in human nature, might dwindle and sink to almost noth- ing, if it were not for the witness borne to this sense, and the protest offered against its extinc- tion, by the brilliant aesthetic^endowment and artistic work of ancient Greece. ' And one cannot look out over the world without seeing that the same sort of thing might very well befall conduct, too, if it were not for the signal witness borne by Isreiel. Then there is the practical force of their ex- ample; aijd this is even more important. ][Every one knows, how those who want to cultivate any sense or endowment in themselves must be habitu- ally conversant with the works of people who have been eminent for that sense, must study them, catch inspiration from them ; only in this way, indeed, can progress be made.^)And as long as the world lasts, all who want to 71 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. make progress in righteousness "will come to Israel for inspiration, as to the people who have had the sense for righteousness most glowing and strongest; and in hearing and reading the words Israel has uttered for us, carers for con- duct will find a glow and a force they could find nowhere else. As well imagine a man with a sense for sculpture not cultivating it by the help of the remains of Greek art, or a man with a sense for poetry not cultivating it by the help of Homer and Shakespeare, as a man with a sense for conduct not cultivating it by the help of the Bible I And this sense, in the satisfying of which we come naturally to the Bible, is a sense which the generality of men have far more decidedly than they have the sense for art or for science ; at any rate, whether we have it decidedly or no, it is the sense which has to do with three fourths of human life. This does truly constitute for Israel a most extraordinary distinction. In spite of all which in them and their character is unattractive, nay, repellent ; — ^in spite of their short-comings even in righteousness itself and their insignificance in everything else, — this petty, unsuccessful, unami- able people, without politics, without science, without art, without charm, deserve their great place in the world's regard, and are likely to have it greater, as the world goes on, rather than less. It is secured to them by the facts of human na- ture, and by the unalterable constitution of things. "God has given commandment to bless, and he hath blessed, and we cannot reverse itl He hath not seen iniquity in Jacob, and he hath not seen perverseness in Israel; the Eternal, his God, is with him I" Any one does a good deed who removes stum- 72 RELIGION GIVEN. bling-blocks out of the way of feeling and profiting by the witness left by this people. And so, in- stead of making our Hebrew speakers mean, in their use of the word God, a scientific affirmation which never entered into their heads, and about which many will dispute, let us content ourselves with making them mean, as matter of scientific fact and experience, what they really did mean as such, and what is unchallengeable. Let us put into their "Eternal" and "God" no more science than they did, — "the enduring power, not ourselves'- which makesforrighteousness." They meantmore by these names, but they meant this; and what they meant more they could not grasp fully, but this they grasped fully. The sense which this will give us for their words is at least solid ; so that we may find it of use as a guide to steady us, and to give us a constant clew in following what they say. And is it so unworthy? It is true, unless we can fill it with as much feeling as they did, the mere possessing it will not carry us far. But matters are not much mended by taking their language of approximative figure and using it for the language of scientific definition; or by crediting them with our own dubious science, deduced from metaphysical ideas which they never had. A bet- ter way than this, surely, is to take their fact of experience, to keep it steadily for our basis in using their language, and to see whether from using their language with the ground of this real and firm sense to it, as they themselves did, some- what of their feeling, too, may not grow upon us. At least we shall know what we are saying ; and that what we are saying is true, however inade- quate. But is this confessed inadequateness of our 73 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. speech, concerning that which we will not call by the negative name of the unknown and unknow- able, but rather by the name of the unexplored and the inexpressible, and of which the Hebrews themselves said, ^^It is more high than heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know?" — ie this reservedness of affirmation about G-od less worthy of him, than the astound- ing particularity and license of affirmation of our dogmatists, as if he were a man in the next street? Nay, and nearly all the difficulties which torment theology— as the reconciling God's justice with his mercy, and so on — come from this license and particularity ; theologians having precisely, as it would often seem, built up a wall first, in order afterwards to run their own heads against it. This, we say, is what comes of too much talent for abstract reasoning. One cannot help seeing the theory of causation and such things, where one should only see a far simpler matter: the power, the grandeur, the necessity of righteous- ness. To be sure, a perception of these is at the bottom of popular religion, underneath all the extravagances theologians have taught people to utter, and makes the whole value of it. For the sake of this true practical perception one might be quite content to leave at rest a matter where practice, after all, is everything, and theory noth- ing. [Only, when religion is called in question be- cause of the extravagances of theology being passed off as religion, one disengages and helps religion by showing their utter delusiveness.^ They arose out of the talents of able men for reasoning, and their want (not through lack of talent, for the thing needs none; it needs only time, trouble, good fortune, and a fair mind ; but through their being taken up with their reasoning 74 RELIGION GIVEN. power), — their want of literary experience. Un- luckily, the sphere where they show their talents is one for literary experience rather than for rea- soning. And this at the very outset, in the deal- ings of theologians with that starting-point of our religion, — the experience of Israel as set forth in the Old Testament,— has produced, we have seen, great confusion. Naturally, as we shall hereafter see, the confusion becomes worse con- founded as they proceed. 75 CHAPTER II. Aberglattbe Invading. When people ask for our attention because of what has passed, they say, ''in the Council of the Trinity," and been promulgated, for our direc- tion, by "a Personal First Cause, the moral and intelligent Governor of the universe," it is cer- tainly open to any man to refuse to hear them, on the plea that the very thing they start with they have no means of proving. And we see that many do so refuse their attention; and that the breach there is, for instance, between popular re- ligion and what is called science, comes from this cause. But it is altogether different when people ask for our attention on the strength of this other first principle: "To righteousness belongs happi- ness"; or this: "There is an enduring power, not ourselves, which makes for righteousness." The more we meditate on this starting-ground of theirs, the more we shall find that there is solidity in it, and the more we shall be inclined to go along with them, and to see what they can make of it. And herein is the advantage of giving this plain, though restricted, sense to the Bible phrases: "He that keepeth the law, happy is he I" and, "Whoso trusteth in the Eternal, happy is he!" By tradi- tion, emotion, imagination, the Hebrews, no doubt, came to attach more than this plain sense to these phrases ; but this plain, solid, and experi- mental sense they attached to them at bottom, they attached originally ; and in attaching it they 76 ABERGLAUBE INVADING. were on sure ground of fact, where we can all go with them. Their words, we shall find, taken in this sense have quite a new force for us, and an indisputable one. It is worth while accustoming ourselves to use them thus, in order to bring out this force and to see how real it is, limited though it be, and unpretending as it may appear. The very substitution of the word Eternal for the word Lord is something gained in this direction. The word Eternal has less of particularity and palpability for the imagination, but what it does affirm is real and verifiable. Let us fix firmly in our minds, with this limited but real sense to the words we employ, the con- nection of ideas which was ever present to the spirit of the Hebrew people. "In the way of right- eousness is life, and in the pathway thereof is no death ; as righteousness tendeth to life, so he that pursueth evil, pursueth it to hie own death; as the whirlwind passeth, so is the vricked no more, but the righteous is an everlasting foundation" ; — here is the ground idea, Xet there are continual momentary suggestions which make for gratifying our apparent self, for unrighteousness; neverthe- less, what makes for our real self, for righteous- ness, is lasting, and holds good in the end. There- fore: "Trust in the Eternal with all thine heart, and lean not imto thine own understanding; there is no wisdom, nor understanding, nor coun- sel against the Eternal; there is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death ; there are many devices in a man's heart, nevertheless the counsel of the Eternal, that shall stand." To follow this counsel of the Eternal is the only true wisdom and under- standing: "The fear of the Eternal, that is wisdom, and to depart from evil, that is understanding.*' 77 LITEEATUKE AND DOGMA, It is also happiness: "Blessed is every one that feareth the Eternal, that walketh in his ways; happy shall he be, and it shall be well with him I taste and see how gracious the Eternal isl blessed is the man that trusteth in him. Blessed is the man whose delight is in the law of the Eternal; his leaf shall not wither, and whatso- ever he doeth, it shall prosper." And the more a man walks in this way of righteousness, the more he feels himself borne by a power not his own : *'Not by might and not by power, but by my spirit, saith the Eternal. O Eternal, I know that the way of man is not in himself I all things come of thee; in thy light do we see light; the prepara- tion of the heart in man is from the Eternal. The Eternal ordereth a good man's going, and making his way acceptable to himself." But man feels, too, how far he comes from fulfilling or even from fully perceiving this true law of his being, these indications of the Eternal, the way of righteous- ness. He says, and must say: "I am a stranger upon earth, O, hide not thy commandments from me I Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Eternal, for in thy sight shall no man living be justified I" Nevertheless, as a man holds on to practise as well as he can, and avoids, at any rate, "presumptuous sins," courses he can clearly see to be wrong, films fall away from his eyes, the indications of the Eternal come out more and more fully, we are cleansed from faults which were hitherto secret to us: "Examine me, O Grod, and prove me, try out my reins and my heart; look well if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me in the way everlasting I O cleanse thou me from my secret faults I thou hast proved my heart, thou hast visited me in the night, thou hast tried me and shalt find nothing." 78 ABERGLAUBE INVADING. And the more we thus get to keep innoeency, the more we wonderfully find joy and peace: "O how plentiful is thy goodness which thou hast laid up for them that fear thee I Thou shalt hide them in the secret of thy presence from the provoking of men. Thou wilt show me the path of life, in thy presence is the fulness of joy, at thy right hand there are pleasures forevermore." More and more this dwelling on the joy and peace from righteous- ness, and on the power which makes for right- eousness, becomes a man's consolation and refuge: "Thou art my hiding-place, thou shalt preserve me from trouble; if my delight had not been in thy law, I should have perished in my trouble. When I am in heaviness, I will think upon God; a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat 1 O set me up upon the rock that is higher than 1 1 The name of the Eternal is as a strong tower, the righteous runneth into it and is safe." And the more we experience this shelter, the more we come to feel that it is protecting even to tenderness; "Like as a father pitieth his own children, even so is the Eternal merciful unto them that fear him." Nay, every other support, we at last find, every other attachment, may fail us, this alone fails not: "Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not for- get thee I" All this, we say, rests originally upon the simple but solid experience; "Conduct brings happiness" or, "Bighteousness tendeth to ii/e/" And, by making it again rest there, we bring out in a new but most real and sure way its truth and its power. For it has not always continued to rest there, and in popular religion now, as we manifestly see* 79 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. it rests there no longer. It is worth while to fol- low the way in which this change gradually hap- pened, and the thing ceased to rest there. Israel's original perception was true: Righteousness tend- etb to life! The workers of righteousness have a covenant with the Eternal, that their work shall be blessed and blessing, and shall endure forever. But what apparent contradictions was this true original perception destined to meet with; what vast delays, at any rate, were to be interposed before its truth could become manifest 1 And how instructively the successive documents of the Bible —which popular religion treats as if it were all of one piece, one time, and one mind — bring out the effect on Israel of these delays and contradictions! What a distance between the eighteenth Psalm and the eighty-ninth, between the Book of Prov- erbs and the Book of Ecclesiastes 1 A time some thousand years before Christ, the golden age of Israel, is the date to which the eighteenth Psalm and the chief part of the Book of Proverbs be- long; this is the time in which the sense of the necessary connection between righteousness and happiness appears with its full simplicity and force. "The righteous shall be recompensed in the earth, much more the wicked and the sinner I" is the constant burden of the Book of Proverbs. And David, in the eighteenth Psalm, expresses his conviction of the intimate dependence of happiness upon conduct, in terms which, though they are not without a certain crudity, are yet far more edifying in their truth and naturalness than those morbid sentimentalities of Protestantism about man's natural vileness and Christ's im- puted righteousness, to which they are diametri- cally opposed. "I have kept the ways of the Eternal," he says; "I was also upright before 80 ABERGLAUBE INVADING. him, and I kept myself from mine iniquity ; there' fore hath the Eternal rewarded me according to my righteousness, according to the cleanness of my hands hath he recompensed me; great pros- perity showeth he unto his king, and showeth loving-kindness unto David, his anointed, and unto his seed forevermore.'' That may be called the classic passage for that covenant Israel al- ways thinks and speaks of, as made by God with his servant David, Israel's second founder. And this covenant was but a renewal of the covenant made with Israel's first founder,— God's servant Abraham, — that "righteousness shall inherit a blessing," and that "in his seed all nations of the earth shall be blessed." But what a change in the eighty-ninth Psalm, a few hundred years later I "Eternal, where are thy former loving-kindnesses which thou swarest unto David? thou hast abhorred and forsaken thine anointed, thou hast made void the covenant; remember how short my time is I" "The right- eous shall be recompensed in the earth I" the speaker means; "my death is near, and death ends all; where, Eternal, is thy promise?" Most remarkable, indeed, is the inward travail to which, in the six hundred years that followed the age of David and Solomon, the many and rude shocks befalling Israel's fundamental idea, "Righteousness tendeth to life and he that pursueth evil pursueth it to his own death," gave occasion. "Wherefore do the wicked live," asks Job, "become old, yea, are mighty in power? Their houses are safe from fear, neither is the rod of God upon them?" Job himself is righteous, and yet: "On mine eyelids is the shadow of death, not for any injustice in mine hands." All through the Book of Job, the question how this can be is over and over again 6 81 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. asked and never answered; inadequate solutions are offered and repelled, but an adequate solution is never _j'eaclied. The only solution reached is that of silence before the insoluble: "I will lay mine hand upon my mouth.*' The two percep- tions are left confronting one another like Kant- ian antimonies. "The earth is given unto the hand of the wicked I" and yet: "The council of the wicked is far from me, Grod rewardeth him, and he shall know it I'* And this last, the original perception, remains indestructible. The Book of Ecclesiastes, again, has been called sceptical, epicurean; it is certainly without the glow and hope which animate the Bible in general. It be- longs, probably, to the latter half of the fifth century before Christ, to the time of Nehemiah and Malachi, with difficulties pressing the newly restored Jewish community on all sides, with a Persian governor lording it in Jerusalem, with resources light and taxes heavy, with the cancer of poverty eating into the mass of the people, with the rich estranged from the poor and from the national traditions, with the priesthood slack, insincere, and worthless. Composed under such circumstances, the book has been said, and with justice, to breathe "resignation at the grave of Israel"; its author sees "the tears of the op- pressed, and they had no comforter, and on the side of their oppressors there was power ; where- fore I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive." He sees "all things come alike to all, there is one event to the righteous and to the wicked." At- tempts at a philosophic indifference appear, at a sceptical suspension of judgment, at an easy ne quid nimis: "Be not righteous overmuch, neither make thyself over- wise I why shouldst thou destroy 82 ABEBGLAUBE INVADING. thyself?" Vain attempts, even at a moment which farored them I shows of scepticism, vanish- ing as soon as uttered before the intractable con- scientiousness of Israel I For the Preacher makes answer against himself: "Though a sinner do evil a hundred times and his days be prolonged, yet surely I know that it shall be well with them that fear God ; but it shall not be well with the wicked, because he feareth not before God." The Preacher's contemporary, too, Malachi, felt the pressure of the same circumstances, had the same occasions of despondency. All around him people were saying: "Every one that doeth ovil is good in the sight of the Eternal, and he delighteth in them; where is the God of judgment? it is vain to serve God, and what profit is it that we have kept his ordinance?" What a change from the clear certitude of the golden age: "As the whirl- wind passeth, so is the wicked no more ; but the righteous is an everlasting foundation I" But yet, with all the certitude of this happier past, Mala- chi answers on behalf of the Eternal: "Unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of Righteousness arise with healing in his wings 1" Many there were, no doubt, who had lost all living sense that the promises were made to ligbteousness ; who took them mechanically, as made to them and sure to them because they were the seed of Abraham, because they were, in St. Paul's words: "Israelites, to whom pertain the adoption and the glory and the covenants and the giving of the law and the service of God, and whose are the fathers." These people were perplexed and indignant when the privileged seed became unprosperous ; and they looked for some great change to be wrought in the fallen fortunes of Israel, wrought miraculously and mechanically. 83 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. And they were, no doubt, the great majority, and of the mass of Jewish expectation about the fut- ure they stamped the character. With them, how- ever, our interest does not for the present lie; it lies with the prophets and those whom the proph- ets represent. It lies with the continued depos- itaries of the original revelation to Israel, Eight- eousuess tendetb to life! who saw cleariy enough that the promises were to righteousness, and that what tendeth to Me was not the seed of Abraham taken in itself, but righteousness. With this minority, and with its noble representatives the prophets, our present interest lies ; and the devel- opment of their conviction about righteousness is what it here imports us to trace. An indestructi- ble faith that "the righteous is an everlasting foundation" they had; yet they, too, as we have seen, could not but notice, as time went on, many things which seemed apparently to contradict this their belief. In private life, there was the fre- quent prosperity of the sinner. In the life of na- tions, there was the rise and power of the great unrighteous kingdoms of the heathen, the unsuc- cessfulness of Israel ; though Israel was undoubt- edly, as compared with the heathen, the deposi- tary and upholder of the idea of righteousness. Therefore prophets and righteous men also, like the unspiritual crowd, could not but look ar- dently to the future, to some great change and redress in store. At the same time, although their experience, that the righteous were often afflicted and the wicked often prosperous, could not but perplex pious Hebrews ; although their conscience felt, and could not but feel, that, compared with the other nations with whom they came in contact, they themselves and their fathers had a concern for 84 ABERGLAUBE INVADING. righteousness, and an unremitting sense of its necessity, which put them in covenant with the Eternal who makes for righteousness, and which rendered the triumph of other nations over them a triumph of people who cared little for righteous- ness over people who cared for it much, and a cause of perplexity, therefore, to men's trust in the Eternal,— though their conscience told them this, yet of their own short-comings and perversities it told them louder still, and that their sins had in truth been enough to break their covenant with the Eternal a thousand times over, and to bring justly upon them all the miseries they suffered. To enable them to meet the terrible day, when the Eternal would avenge him of his enemies and make up his jewels, they themselves needed, they knew, the voice of a second Elijah, a change of the inner man, repentance, 2. And then, with Malachi's testimony on its lips to the truth of Israel's ruling idea, Righteousness tendeth to life I died prophecy. For four hundred years the mind of Israel revolved those wonder- ful utterances, which, on the ear of even those who only half understand them, and who do not at all believe them, strike with such strange, in- comparable power, — the promises of prophecy. For four hundred years, through defeat and hu- miliation, the Hebrew race pondered those magnifi- cent assurances that "the Eternal's arm is not shortened," that "righteousness shall be forever," and that the future would prove this, even if the present did not. "The Eternal fainteth not, neither is weary; he giveth power to the faint. They that wait on the Eternal shall renew their strength; the redeemed of the Eternal shall return 85 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. and come with singing to Zion, and eyerlaBting joy shall be upon their head ; they shall repair the old wastes, the desolations of many generations ; and I, the Eternal, will make an everlasting cov- enant with them. The Eternal shall be thine ever- lasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended ; the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising, and my righteousness shall be forever, and my salvation shall not be abolished I" The prophets themselves, speaking when the ruin of their country was impending, or soon after it had happened, had had in prospect the actual restoration of Jerusalem, the submission of the nations around, and the empire of David and Solomon renewed. But as time went on, and Israel's return from captivity and resettlement of Jerusalem by no means answered his glowing anticipations from them, these anticipations had more and more a construction put upon them which set at defiance the unworthiness and in- felicities of the actual present, which filled up what prophecy left in outline, and which em- braced the world. The Hebrew Amos, of the eighth century before Christ, promises to his hear- ers a recovery from their ruin in which they "shall possess the remnant of Edom;" the Greek or Ara- maic Amos of the Christian era, whose words St. James produces in the Conference at Jerusa- lem, promises a recovery for Israel in which "the residue of men shall seek the Eternal." This is but a specimen of what went forward on a large scale. The redeemer, whom the unknown prophet of the captivity foretold to Zion, has, a few hun- dred years later, for the writer whom we call Daniel and for his contemporaries, become the miraculous agent of Israel's new restoration, the 86 ABERGLAUBE INVADING. heaven-sent executor of the Eternal's judgment, and the bringer-in of the kingdom of righteoua- ness; the Messiah, in short, of our popular re- ligion. "One like the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of Days, and there was given him dominion and glory, and a kingdom, that all people, nations, and languages should serve him; and the king- dom and dominion shall be given to the people of the saints of the Most High." An impartial criti- cism will hardly find in the Old Testament writers before the times of the Maccabees (and certainly not in the passages usually quoted to prove it) the doctrine of the immortality of the soul or of the resurrection of the dead. But by the time of the Maccabees, when this passage of the Book of Daniel was written, in the second century before Christ, the Jews have undoubtedly become famil- iar, not indeed with the idea of the immortality of the soul as philosophers like Plato conceived it, but with the notion of a resurrection of the dead to take their trial for acceptance or rejection in the Messiah's judgment and kingdom. To this has swelled Israel's original and fruitful thesis: "Righteousness tendeth to life I as the whirl- wind passeth, ^o is the wicked no more, but the righteous is an everlasting foundation I" The phantasmagories of more prodigal and wild im- aginations have mingled with the work of Israel's austere spirit ; Babylon, Persia, Egypt, even Greece, have left their trace there; but the un- changeable substructure remains, and on that substructure is everything built which comea after. Qn one sense the lofty Messianic ideas of "the day of the Eternal's coming," "the consolation of Israel," "the restitution of all things," are even 87 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. more important than the solid but humbler idea, Righteousness tendetb to life! out of which they arose; in another sense they are much less im- portant. J They are more important, because they are the development of this idea and prove its strength. It might have been crushed and baffled by the falsification events seemed to delight in giving it; that instead of being crushed and baffled, it took this magnificent flight, shows its innate power. And they also in a wonderful man- ner attract emotion to the ideas of conduct and morality, attract it to them and combine it with them. On the other hand, the idea that right' eousness tendeth to life has a firm, experimental ground, which the Messianic ideas have not. And the day comes when the possession of such a ground is invaluable. (That the spirit of man should entertain hopes and anticipations beyond what it actually knows and can verify, is quite natural. Human life could not have the scope, and depth, and progress it has, were this otherwise/) It is natural, too, to make these hopes and anticipations give in their turn support to the simple and humble experience which was their original ground. Israel, there- fore, who originally followed righteousness be- cause he felt that it tended to life, might natu- rally come at last to follow it because it would enable him to stand before the Son of Man at his coming, and to share in the triumph of the saints. But this later belief has not the same character as the belief which it is thus set to confirm. It is a kind of fairy-tale, which a man tells himself, which no one, we grant, can prove impossible to turn out true, but which no one, also, can prove certain to turn out true. It is exactly what is expressed by the Grerman word "Aberglaube," 88 ABERGLAUBE INVADING. extra-belief, belief beyond what is certain and verifiable. Our word "superstition" had by its derivation this same meaning, but it has come to be used in a merely bad sense, and to mean a childish and craven religiosity. With the German word it is not so ; therefore Goethe can say with propriety and truth: ^'Aberglaube is the poetry of life,— c7er Aberglavbe ist die Poesie des Lebens." It is so ; extrarbeJief, that which we hope, augur, imagine, is the poetry of life, and has the rights of poetry. But it is not science ; and yet it tends always to imagine itself science, to substitute it- self for science, to make itself the ground of the very science out of which it has grown. The Messianic ideas, which were the poetry of life to Israel in the age when Christ came, did this; and it is the more important to mark that they did it, because similar ideas have so signally done the same thing in popular Christianity. 89 CHAPTEE III. E-ELTGiON New-Given. JesuB Christ was undoubtedly the very last sort of Messiah whom the Jews expected. Christian theologians say confidently that the characters of humility, obscureness, and depression were com- monly attributed to the Jewish Messiah ; and even Bishop Butler, in general the most severely exact of writers, gives countenance to this error. What is true is, that we find these characters attributed to some one by the prophets; that we attribute them to Christ; that Christ is for us the Messiah, and that Christ they Buit. But for the prophets themselves, and for the Jews who heard and read them, these characters of lowliness and depression belonged to Grod's chastened servant, the idealized Israel. When Israel had been purged and renewed by these, the Messiah was to appear; but with glory and power for his attributes, not humility and weakness. It is impossible to resist acknowl- edging this, if we read the Bible to find from it what those who wrote it really intended to think and say, and not to put in it what we wish them to have thought and said. To find in Jesus the genuine Jewish Messiah, the Messiah of Daniel, one like the Son of Man coming with the clouds of heaven and having universal dominion given him, must certainly, to a Jew, have been extremely difficult. Nevertheless, there is undoubtedly in the Old Testament the germ of Christianity. In develop- ing this germ lay the future of righteousness itself, 90 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. of Israel's primary and immortal concern ; and the incomparable greatness of the religion founded by Christ comes from his having developed it. He is not the Messiah to whom the hopes of his nation pointed; and yet Christendom with perfect justice has made him the Messiah, because he alone took, when his nation was on another and a false tack, a way obscurely indicated in the Old Testament, and the one possible and successful way, for the accomplishment of the Messiah's function: — "to bring in everlasting righteousness." Let ue see how this was. i^Religion in the Old Testament is a matter of national and social conduct mainly/] First, it consists in devotion to Israel's Grod, the Eternal who loveth righteousness, and of separation from other nations whose concern for righteousness was less fervent, of abhorrence of their idolatries, which were sure to bewilder and diminish this fervent concern. Secondly, it consists in doing justice, hating all wrong, robbery, and oppres- sion, abstaining from insolence, lying, and slan- dering. The Jews' polity, their theocracy, was of such immense importance, because religion, when conceived as having its existence in these national and social duties mainly, requires a polity to put itself forth in; and the Jews' polity was adapted to such a religion. But this religion, as it devel- oped itself, was by no means entirely worthy of the intuition out of which it had grown. We have seen how, in its intuition of God — of that not ourselves of which all mankind form some concep- tion or other— as the Eternal that makes for righteousness, the Hebrew race found the revela- tion needed to breathe emotion into the laws of morality, and to make morality religion. This revelation is the capital fact of the Old Testa- 91 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. ment, and the source of its grandeur and power. But it is evident that this revelation lost, as time went on, its nearness and clearness ; and that for the mass of the Hebrews their Grod came to be a mere magnified and non-natural man, like the Grod of our popular religion now, who has commanded certain courses of conduct and attached certain sanctions to them. And though prophets and righteous men, among the Hebrews, might preserve always the imme- diate and truer apprehension of their G-od as the Eternal who makes for righteousness, they in vain tried to communicate this apprehension to the mass of their countrymen. They had, indeed, a special difficulty to contend with in communicat- ing it ; and the difficulty was this. Those courses of conduct, which Israel's intuition of the Eternal had originally touched with emotion and made religion, lay chiefly, we have seen, in the line of national and social duties. By reason of the stage of their own growth and the world's, at which this revelation found the Hebrews, the thing could not well be otherwise. And national and social duties are peculiarly capable of a mechanical, ex- terior performance, in which the heart has no share. One may observe rites and ceremonies, hate idolatry, abstain from murder and theft and false witness, and yet have one's inward thoughts bad, callous, and disordered. Then even the ad- mitted duties themselves come to be ill-discharged or set at naught, because the emotion which was the only certain security for their good discharge n' is wanting. TThe very power of religion, as we have seen, lies in its bringing emotion to bear on our rules of conduct, and thus making us care for them so much, consider them so deeply and rever- entially, that we surmount the great practical 92 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. difficulty of acting in obedience to them, and fol- low them heartily and easily^^ ' Therefore the Is- raelites, when they lost their primary Intuition and the deep feeling which went with it, were perpetually idolatrous, slack or niggardly in the service of Jehovah, violators of judgment and justice. The prophets perpetually reminded their nation of the superiority of judgment and justice to any exterior ceremony like sacrifice. But judgment and justice themselves, as Israel in general con- ceived them, have something exterior in them; now, what was wanted was more inwardness, more feeJiugj This was given by adding mercy and humbleness to judgment and justice. Mercy and humbleness are something inward, they are affections of the heart. And even in the Proverbs these appear: "The mercifal man doeth good to his own soul" ; "He that hath mercy on the poor, happy is he" ; "Honor shall uphold the humble in spirit" ; "When pride cometh, shame cometh, but with the lowly is wisdom." So that Micah asked his nation: "What doth the Eternal require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" — adding mercy and humility to the old judgment and justice. But a further development is given to humbleness, when the second Isaiah adds contrition to it: "I" (the Eternal) "dwell with him that is of a contrite and humble spirit" ; or when the Psalmist says, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, God, thou wilt not despise I" • This is personal religion; religion consisting in the inward feeling and disposition of the individ- ual himself, rather than in the performance of outward acts toward religion or society. It ia 93 LITEKATUEE AND DOGMA. the essence of Christianity, it is what the Jews needed, it is the line in which their religion was ripe for development; and it appears in the Old Testament. Still, in the Old Testament it by no means comes out fully. The leaning, there, is to make religion social rather than personal, an affair of duties rather than of dispositions. Soon after the very words we have just quoted from him, the second Isaiah adds: "If thou take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the putting forth of the finger and speaking vanity, and if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul, then shall thy light rise in obscurity and thy darkness be as the noon-day, and the Eternal shall guide thee continually and make fat thy bones." This stands, or at least appears to stand, as a full description of righteousness ; and as such, it is unsatisfying. )^ What was wanted, then, was a fuller descrip- tion of righteousness. Now, it is clear that right- eousness, the central object of Israel's concern, was the central object of Christ's concern also.H Of the development and cardinal points of his teaching we shall have to speak more at length by and by; all we have to do here is to pass them in a rapid preliminary review. Israel had said: "To him that ordereth his conversation right shall be shown the salvation of God." And Christ said: "Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees,"— that is, of the very people who then passed for caring most about righteousness and practising it most rigidly, — "ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.'' But righteousness had by Christ's time lost, in great measure, the mighty 94 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. impulse which emotion gives; and in losing this, had lost also the mighty sanction which happi- ness gives. "The whole head was sick and the whole heart faint" ; the glad and immediate sense of being in the right way, in the way of peace, was gone ; the sense of being wrong and astray, of sin, and of helplessness under sin, was oppres- sive. The thing was, by giving a fuller idea of righteousness, to reapply emotion to it, and by thus reapplying emotion, to disperse the feeling of being amiss and helpless, to give the sense of be- ing right and effective; to restore, in short, to righteousness the sanction of happiness. But this could only be done by attending to that inward world of feelings and dis^sitions which Judaism had too much neglected. / The first need, therefore, for Israel at that time^ was to make religion cease to be mainly a national and social matter, and become mainly a personal mat- ter/? "Thou bhnd Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the cup, that the outside may be clean also 1" — this was the very ground-principle in Christ's teaching. Instead of attending so much to your outward acts, attend, he said, first of all to your inward thoughts, to the state of your heart and feelings. This doctrine has perhaps been over- strained and misapplied by certain people since; but it was the lesson which at that time was above all needed. It is a great progress beyond even that advanced maxim of pious Jews: "To do justice and judgment is more acceptable than sacrifice," For to do justice and judgment is still, as we have remarked, something external, and may leave the feelings untouched, uncleared, and dead ; what was wanted was to plough up, clear, and quicken the feehngs themselves. And this is what Christ did. 95 IjlTUiKATUKlIi AJNU UUtxMA. "My son, give me thy beartT' eays the teacher of righteousnese in the golden age of Israel. And when Israel had the Eternal revealed to him, and founded our religion, he gave bis heart. But the time came when this direct vision ceased, and Israel's religion was a mere aftair of tradition, and of doctrines and rules received from without. Then it might be truly said of this professed ser- vant of the Eternal: "This people honor me with their lips, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men." With little or no power of dis- tinguishing between what was rule of ceremonial and what was rule of conduct, they followed the prescriptions of their religion with a servile and sullen mind, "precept upon precept, line upon line, here a little and there a little," and no end to it all. What a change since the days when it was Joy to the just to do judgment! The prophets saw clearly enough the evil, nay, they even could point to the springs which must be touched In order to work a cure ; but they could not press these springs steadily enough or skilfully enough to work the cure themselves. Christ's new and different way of putting things was the secret of his succeeding where the proph- ets could not. And this new way he had of put- ting things is what is indicated by the expression epieikeia, best rendered, as we have elsewhere said,* by these two words, — "sweet reasonable- ness." For that which is epieikes is that which has an air of truth and likelihood ; and that which has an air of truth and likelihood is prepossess- ing. Now, never were utterances concerning con- duct and righteousnese— Israel's master-concern, and the master-topic of the New Testament as * St. Paul and Protestantism, p. xlx. 96 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. well as of the Old — which so carried with them an air of consummate truth and likelihood as Christ's did ; and never, therefore, were any utterances so irresistibly prepossessing. He put things in such a way that his hearer was led to take each rule or fact of conduct by its inward side, its efiect on the heart and character ; then the reason of the thing, the meaning of what had been mere matter of blind rule, flashed upon him. He could distin- guish between what was only ceremony, and what was conduct; and the hardest rule of con- duct came to appear to him infinitely reasonable and natural, and therefore infinitely prepossess- ing. To And his own soul, his true and perma- nent self, became set up in man's view as his chief concern, as the secret of happiness; and so it really is. "How is a man advantaged if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of bimself?'' was the searching question which Jesus made men ask themselves. A return upon themselves, and a consequent intuition of the truth and rea- son of the thing in question, gave men for right action the clearness, spirit, energy, happiness, they had lost. LThis power of returning upon themselves, and seeing by a flash the truth and reason of things, his disciples learnt of Christ. They learnt, too, from observing him and his example, much which, without, perhaps, any conscious process of being apprehended in its reason, was discerned instinc- tively to be true and life-giving as soon as it was recommended in Christ's words and illustrated by Christ's example.jTwo lessons in particular they learnt in this way, and added them to the great lesson of self-examination, and an appeal to the inner man, with which they started. "Whoever will come after me, let him deny himself and take T 97 Up his cross daily and follow me I" was one of the two; "Learn of me that I am mild and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls 1" was the other. LChrist made his followers first look within and examine themselves; he made them feel that they had a best and real self as opposed to their ordinary and apparent one, and that their happiness depended on saving this best self from being overborne/7 And then, by recom- mending, and still more by himself exemplifying in his own pra^ctice, by the exhibition in himself with the most prepossessing pureness, clearness, and beauty, of the two qualities by which our ordinary self is indeed most essentially counter- acted, self-renonncement and mildness, he made his followers feel that in these qualities lay the secret of their best self; that to attain them was in the highest degree requisite and natural, and that a man's whole happiness depended upon it. Self-examination, self-renouncement, and mild- ness were, therefore, the great means by which Christ renewed righteousness and religion. All these means are indicated in the Old Testament: "Crod requireth truth in the inward parts; Not do- ing thine own ways, nor finding thine own pleas- ure ; Before honor is humility." But how far more strongly are they forced upon the attention in the New Testament, and set up clearly as the central mark for our endeavors I "Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first the inside of the cup that the outside may be clean also I Whoever will come after me, let him renounce himself and take up his cross daily and follow me I Learn of me that I am mild and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls I" So that, although personal religion is clearly present in the Old Testament, neverthe- less these injunctions of the New Testament effect 98 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. 80 much more for the extrication and establish' ment of personal religion than the general exhor. tations in the Old to "ofler the sacrifice of right eousness," to "do judgment," that, comparatiTely with the Old, the New Testament may be said to hare really founded inward and personal religion, [while the Old Testament says, "Attend to conduct T' the New Testament says, "Attend to the feelings and dispositions whence conduct proceeds V'J] And as attending to conduct had very much degener- ated into deadness and formality, attending to the springs of conduct was a revelation, a revival of intuitive and fresh perceptions, a touching of morals with emotion, a discovering of religion, similar to that which had been effected when Israel, struck with the abiding power, not of man's causing, which makes for righteousness, and filled with joy and awe by it, had, in the old days, named God the Eternal Man came under a new dispensation, and made with God a second covenant. 3. To rivet the attention on the indications of per- sonal religion furnished by the Old Testament ; to take the humble, inward, and suffering "servant of God" of the prophets, and to elevate this as the Messiah, the seed of Abraham and David, in whom all nations should be blessed, whose throne should be as the days of heaven, who should re- deem his people and restore the kingdom to Israel, — was a work of the highest originality. It cannot, as we have seen, be said that, by the suffering Servant of God and by the triumphant Messiah, the prophets themselves meant one and the same person. But language of hope and as- piration, such as theirs, is in its very nature malleable. Criticism may and must determine LITERATURE AND DOGMA. what the original speakers seem to have directly meant; but the very nature of their language justifies any powerful and fruitful application of it, and every such application may be said, in the words of popular religion, to have been lodged there from the first by the spirit of Grod. Cer- tainly it was a somewhat violent exegetical pro- ceeding, to fuse together into one personage Dan- iel's Son of Man coming with the clouds of Heaven, the first Isaiah's "Branch out of the root of Jesse," who should smite the earth with the rod of his mouth and reign in glory, peace, and right- eousness, and the second Isaiah's meek and af- flicted Servant of God, who was charged with the precious message of a golden future ; — to fuse to- gether in one these three by no means identical personages, to add to them the sacrificial lamb of the passover and of the temple-service which was constantly before a Jew's eyes, to add, besides, the Prophet like to himself whom Moses promised to the children of Israel, to add, further, the Holy One of Israel the Redeemer, who for the prophets was the Eternal himself; and to say, that the combination thence resulting was the Messiah or Christ whom all the prophets meant and pre- dicted, and that Jesus was this Messiah. To us, who have been fashioned by a theology whose set purpose is to efface all the difficulties in such a combination, and to make it received easily and unhesitatingly, it may appear natural; in itself, and with the elements of which it is composed viewed singly and impartially, it cannot but be pronounced violent. But the elements in question have their chief use and value, we repeat, not as objects of criti- cism ; they belong of right to whoever can best possess himself of them for practice and edifica- 100 BELIGION NEW-GIVEN. tion. Of the Messiah coming in the clouds, of the Branch of Jesse smiting the earth with the rod of his mouth, slaying the wicked with his breath, and re-establishing in unexampled splendor David's kingdom, nothing could be made. With such a Messiah filling men's thoughts and hopes, the real defects of Israel still remained, because these chiefly proceeded from Israel's making his religion too much a national and social affair, too little a personal affair. But a Messiah who did not strive nor cry, who was oppressed and af- flicted without opening his mouth, who worked obscurely and patiently, yet failed not nor was discouraged until his doctrine made its way and transformed the world, — this was the Messiah whom Israel needed, and in whom the lost great- ness of Israel could be restored and culminate. LFor the true greatness of Israel was righteous- ness; and only by an inward personal religion could the sense revive of what righteousneee really was,— revive in Israel and bear fruit for the world. J Instead, then, of "the Boot of David who should set up an ensign for the nations and assemble the outcasts of Israel," Christ took from prophecy and made pre-eminent "the Servant whom man despieeth and the people abhorreth," but "who bringeth good tidings, who publisheth peace, pub- lisheth salvation." And instead of saying hke the prophets, "This people must mend, this nation must do so and so, Israel must follow such and such ways," Christ took the individual Israelite by himself apart, made him listen for the voice of his conscience, and said to him in effect, "If every one would mend onej we should have a new world." So vital for the Jews was this change of character in their religion, that the Old Testament 101 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. abounds, as we have said, in pointings and ap- proximations to it; and most truly might Christ say to his followers, that many prophets and kings had desired, though unavailingly, to see the things which his disciples saw and heard. The desire felt by pious Israelites for some new aspect of religion such as Christ presented, is, un- doubtedly, the best proof of its timeliness and salutariness. Perhaps New Testament witnesses to the workings of this desire may be received with suspicion, as having arisen after the event and when the new Ideal of Christ had become es- tablished. Otherwise, John the Baptist's char- acterization of the Messiah as "the Lamb of Grod that taketh away the sins of the world," and the bold Messianic turn given in the twelfth chapter of St. Matthew to the prophecy there quoted from the forty-second chapter of Isaiah, would be evi- dence of the highest importance. "A bruised reed breaketh he not," says Isaiah of the meek servant and messenger of God, "and a glimmering wick quencheth he not; he declareth judgment with truth; far lands wait for his doctrine." "A bruised reed shall he not break," runs the passage in St, Matthew, "and smoking flax shall he not quench, until he send forth judgment unto vic- tory; in his name shall the Gentiles trust," The words, "until he send forth judgment unto victory," words giving a clear Messianic stamp to the per- sonage described, are neither in the original He- brew nor in the Greek of the Septuagint ;— where did the Gospel-writer find them? If, as is possible, they were in some version of Isaiah then extant, they prove in a striking way the existence and strength of the aspiration which Christ satisfied by transforming the old popular ideal of the Mes- siah. But there is in any case proof of the ex- 102 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. istence of such an aspiration, since a Jewish com- mentator, contemporary, probably, with the Christian era but not himself a Christian, assigns to the prophecy a Messianic intention. I^nd, in- deed, the rendering of the final words, "in his name shall the Gentiles trust," which is in the Greek of the Septuagint as well as in that of St. Mat- thew, shows, perhaps, a similar leaning in the Jews of Alexandria some two centuries before Christ.. 7 reigns there are, then, without doubt, of others trying to identify the Messiah of popular hope— the triumphant Root of David, the mystic Son of Man— with an ideal of meekness, inwardness, pe- tienee, and self-denial; and well might reformers try to effect this identification, for the true hue of Israel's progress lay through itij But not he who tries makes an epoch, but he who effects ; and the identification which was needed Jesus effected. Henceforth the true Israelite was, undoubtedly, he who allied himself with this identification; who perceired its incomparable fruitfulness, its con- tinuance of the real tradition of Israel, its corre- spondence with the ruling idea of the Hebrew spirit: "Through righteousness to happiness I" or, in Bible words, "To him that ordereth his conver- sation right shall be shown the salvation of God." That the Jewish nation at large, and its rulers, refused to accept the identification, shows simply that want of power to penetrate through wraps and appearances to the essence of things, which the majority of mankind always display. The national and social character of their theocracy was everything to the Jews, and they could see no blessings in a revolution which annulled it. It has often been remarked, that the Puritans 103 are like the Jews of the Old Testament ; and Mr. Fronde thinks he defends the Puritans by saying that they, like the Jews of the Old Testament, had their hearts set on a theocracy, on a fashion- ing of poUtics and society to suit the government of Grod. How strange that he does not perceive that he thus passes, and with justice, the gravest condemnation on the Puritans as followers of Christ! At the Christian era the time had passed, in religion, for outward constructions of this kind, and for all care about establishing or abol- ishing them. The time had come for inwardness and self-reconstruction,— a time to last till the self-reconstruction is fully achieved. It was the error of the Jews that they did not perceive this ; and the error of the Jews the Puritans, without the Jews' excuse, faithfully repeated. And the blunder of both had the same cause,— a want of tact to perceive what is really most wanted for the attainment of their own professed ideal, the reign of righteousness. When Jesus appeared, his disciples were those who did not make this blunder. They were, in general, simple souls, without pretensions which Christ's new religious ideal cut short, or self- consequence which it mortified ; and any Israelite who was, on the one hand, not warped by per- sonal pretensions and self-consequence, and on the other, not dull of feeling and gross of life like the common multitude, might well be open to the spell which, after all, was the great confirmation of Christ's religion, as it was the great confirma- tion of the original religion of Israel, — the spell of its happiness. "Be glad, O ye righteous, and re- joice in the Eternal," the old and lost prerogative of Israel, Christianity offered to make again a living and true word to him. 104 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. 4. For we have already remarked, how it is the great achievement of the Israel of the Old Testa- ment, happiness being mankind's confessed end and aim, to have more than any one else felt, and more than any one else succeeded in making others feel, that "to righteousness belongs happi- ness." Now, it will be denied by no one that Christ, In his turn, was eminently characterized by professing to bring, and by being felt to bring, happiness. All the words that belong to his mis- sion— g'ospe7, kingdom of God, savjour, grace, peace, living water, bread of]ife—&re brimful of promise and of joy. "I am come," he said, "that ye might have life, and that ye might have it more abundantly^ ; "Come to me, and ye shall find rest unto jour souls" ; "I speak, that my disciples may \xa,YQmyjoy fuMUed in themselves," That the operation, professed and actual, of this "son of peace" was to replace his followers in "the way of peace," no one can question; the only matter of dispute can be how he replaced them there. Now, that we may see this more clearly, let us return for a moment to what we said of conduct, — of conduct, which we found to be three fourths, at least, of human life, and the object with which religion is concerned. We said of conduct, that it is the simplest thing in the world as far as knowl- edge is concerned, but the hardest thing in the world as far as doing is concerned. We added that going right, succeeding, in the management of this vast concern, gave naturally the liveliest possible sense of satisfaction and happiness ; that attending to it was naturally the secret of suc- cess, that attachment makes us attend, and that whatever, therefore, made us love to attend to it 105 LITERATTJBE AOT) DOGMA. must inspire us with gratitude. We found the central point of the religion of the Old Testament in Israel's keen perception of a power, not our- selves, which makes for righteousness and disposes us to attend to it, and in his energy of grateful self-surrender to this power. Let us take, to guide ourselves in the New Testament, the help of the clew furnished by all this. First, as to the extreme simplicity of the matter concerned ; a matter sopliisticated, overlaid, and hidden in a thousand ways. The artless, un- schooled perception of a child is, Christ says, the right organ for apprehending it: "Whosoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, cannot enter therein." And yet it is so difficult of attainment that it seems we cannot attain it of ourselves: "No man can come to me unless it be given him of the Father." The things to be done are so simple and necessary that the doctrine about them proves itself as soon as we do them : "Whoever will do God's will, shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God." Only it is in- dispensable to do them; speculating and profess- ing are absolutely useless, here, without doing: "Why call ye me. Lord, Lord, and do not the things that I say?" The great and learned people, the masters in Israel, have their authoritative version of what righteousness and the will of God is, of what the ideal for the Jewish nation is, of the correct way to interpret the prophets. But: "Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment" ; "beware of iziffin- cerity ; "God sees the heart; what comes from withiuj that defiles us." The new covenant, the New Testament, consists in the rule of this very inwardness, in a state of things when God "puts his law in the inward parts and writes it in the 106 RELIGION NEW-GIYEN. heart," in conscience being made the test. You can see, Jeeus says, — you can see the leading re- ligionists of the Jewish nation, with the current notions about righteousness, Glod's will, and the meaning of prophecy, you can see them saying and not doing, full of fierce temper, pride, and sensuality; this shows they can be but blind guides for you. The sayiour of Israel is he who makes Israel use his conscience simply and sin- cerely, who makes him change and sweeten his temper, conquer and annul his sensuality. The prophets all point to such a sayiour, and he is the Messiah, and the promised happiness to Israel is in him and in his reign. He is, in the exalted lan- guage of prophecy, the holy one of God, the son of God, the beloyed of God, the anointed of God, the son of man in an eminent and unique sense, the Messiah and Christ; in plainer language, he is ^*a man who tells you the truth which he has heard of God"; who came not of himself and speaks not of himself, but who "came forth from God,"— from the original God of Israel's worship, the God of righteousness, and of happiness joined to righteousness, "and is come to you." Israel is perpetually talking of God and calling him his Father, and "every one," says Christ, "who hears the Father comes to me. for I know Him, and know His will, and utter His word." God's will and wordj in the Old Testament, was righteous- ness; in the New Testament, it is righteousness explained to haye its essence in inwardness, mild- ness, and self-renouncement. This is, in substance, the word of Christ, which he who hears "shall neyer see death"; of which he who follows it "shall know by experience whether it be of God." But as the Israel of the Old Testament did not say or feel that he followed righteousness by his 107 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. own power, or out of self-interest and self-love, but said and felt that he followed it in thankful self-surrender to ^'the Eternal who loveth right- eousness," and that "the Eternal ordereth a good man's going, and maketh his way acceptable to Himself,^' — so, in the restoration effected by Jesus, the motive which is of force is not the moral mo- tive that inwardness, mildness, and self-renounce- ment make for man's happiness, but a far stronger motive, full of ardent affection and gratitude, and which, though it really has its ground and confirmation in the fact that inwardness, mild- ness, and self-renouncement do make for man's happiness, yet keeps no consciousness of this as its ground. For it finds a far surer ground in personal devotion to Christ, who brought the doctrine to his disciples and made a passage for it into their hearts; in believing that Christ is come from Grod, following Christ, loving Christ. And, in the happiness which thus believing in him, following him, and loving him gives, it finds the mightiest of sanctions. And thus was the great doctrine of the Old Testament, "To righteousness belongs happiness I" made a true and potent word again. Christ was the Messiah to restore the all things of Israel, — righteousness, and happiness with righteousness ; to bring light and recovery after long days of darkness and ruin, and to make good the belief written on Israel's heart, "The righteous is an ever- lasting foundation I" [Butwe have seen how in the hopes of the nation and in the promises of proph- ecy this true and vital belief of Israel was mixed with a quantity of what we have called Aberglaube or extra-belief, adding all manner of 108 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. shape and circumstance to the original thought. ^ The kingdom of David and Solomon was to be restored on a grander scale, the enemies of Israel were to lick the dust, kings were to bring gifts; there was to be the Son of Man coming in the clouds, judgment given to the saints of the Most High, and an eternal reign of the saints after- wards. Now, most of this has a poetical value, some of it has a moral value. All of it is, in truth, a testimony to the strength of Israel's idea of right- eousness. For the order of its growth is, as we have seen, this, "To lighteousneBS belongs happi- ness!— this sure rule is often broken in the state of things which now is ; there must, therefore, be in store for us, in the future, a state of things where it will hold good." But none of it has a scientific value, a certitude arising from proof and experi- ence. And, indeed, it cannot have this, for it pro- fesses to be an anticipation of a state of things not yet actually experienced. But human nature is such, that the mind easily dwells on an anticipation of this kind until we come to forget the order in which it arose, place it first when it is by rights second, and make it support that by which it is in truth supported. And so there came to be many Israelites— most likely they were the great majority of their na- tion—who supposed that righteousness was to be followed, not out of thankful self-surrender to "the Eternal who loveth righteousness," but because the Ancient of Days was coming before long, and judgment was to be given to the saints and they were to possess the kingdom, and from the king- dom those who did not follow righteousness would be excluded. From this way of conceiving religion came naturally the religious condition of 109 the Jews as Christ at his coining found it; and from which, by his new and living way of pre- senting the Messiah, he sought to extricate the whole nation, and did extricate his disciples. He did extricate these, in that he fixed their thoughts upon himself and upon an ideal of inwardness, mildness, and self-renouncement, instead of a phantasmagory of outward grandeur and self-as- sertion. But at the same time the whole train of extra-belief, or Aherglauhe, which had attached it- self to Israel's old creed, "The righteous is an ever- lasting foundation!" transferred itself to the new creed brought by Christ, "I am the door 1 by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved I" And there arose, accordingly, a new Aherglaube like the old. The mild, inward, self-renouncing, and sacrificed Servant of the Eternal, the new and better Mes- siah, was yet, before the present generation passed, to come on the clouds of heaven in power and glory, like the Messiah of Daniel, to gather by trumpet-call his elect from the four winds, and to set his apostles on twelve thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel. The motive of Christian- ity, — which was, in truth, that pure souls "knew the voice" of Jesus as sheep know the voice of their shepherd, and felt after seeing and hearing him that his doctrine and ideal was what they wanted, that he was "indeed the saviour of the world,"— this simple motive became a mixed mo- tive, adding to its first contents a vast extrarbehef of a phantasmagorical Advent of Christ, a resur- rection and judgment, Christ's adherents glorified, his rejectors punished everlastingly. And when the generation for which this Advent was first fixed had passed away without it, Chris- tians discovered by a process of criticism common enough in popular theology, but by which, as 110 RELIGION NEW-GIVEN. Bishop Butler says of a like kind of procesB, "any- thing may be made out of anything," — they die- covered that the Advent had never really been fixed for that first generation, but that it was foretold, and certainly in store, for a later time. So the Aberglaube was perpetuated, placed out of reach of all practical test, and made stronger than ever, ^ith the multitude this Aberglaube or extra-belief inevitably came soon to surpass the original conviction in attractiveness and seeming certitude. The future and the miraculous engaged the chief attention of Christians; and, in accord- ance with this strain of thought, they more and more rested the proof of Christianity, not on its internal evidence, but on prediction and miracle. " I 111 CHAPTER IV. The Proof From Prophecy. --"Aberg2aube is the poetry of life." That men should, by help of their imagination, take short cuts to what they ardently desire, whether the triumph of Israel or the triumph of Christianity, should tell themselves fairy-tales about it, should make these fairy-tales the basis for what is far more sure and solid than the fairy-tales, the desire itself, — all this has in it, we repeat, nothing which is not natural, nothing blamable. ' Nay, the region of our hopes and presentiments extends, as we have also said, far beyond the region of what we can know with certainty. What we reach by hope and presentiment may yet be true, and he would be a narrow reasoner who denied, for instance, all validity to the idea of immortality, because this idea rests on presentiment mainly, and does not admit of certain demonstration. In religion, above all, extraj-belief is in itself no matter, as- suredly, for blame. The object of religion is con- duct ; and if a man helps himself in his conduct by taking an object of hope and presentiment as if it were an object of certainty, he may even be said to gain thereby an advantage. And yet there is always a drawback to a man's advantage in thus treating, in religion and con- duct, what is extra-belief, and not certain, as if it were matter of certainty, and in making it his ground of action ;—be payff for it. The time comes 112 when he discovers that it is not certain ; and then the whole certainty of religion seems discredited, and the basis of conduct gone. This danger at- tends the reliance on prediction and miracle as evidences of Christianity. They have been at- ta-cked as a part of the ''cheat" or "imposture" of religion and of Christianity. For us, religion is the solidest of realities, and Christianity the great- est and happiest stroke ever yet made for human perfection. Prediction and miracle were attrib- uted to it as its supports, because of its grandeur, and because of the awe and admiration which it inspired. Greneratipns of men have helped them- selves to hold firmer to it, helped themselves in conduct, by the aid of these supports. "Miracles provej'^ men have said and thought, "that the order of physical nature is not fate, nor a mere material constitution of things, but the subject of a free, omnipotent master. Prophecy fulfilled proves that neither fate nor man are masters of the world."* And to take prophecy first. "The conditions," it is said, "which form the true conclusive stand- ard of a prophetic inspiration are these: That the prediction be known to have been promulgated before the event ; that the event be such as could not have been foreseen, when it was predicted, by any effort of human reason ; and that the event and the prediction correspond together in a clear accomplishment. Pphere are prophecies in Scrip- ture answering to the standard of an absolute proof. Their publication, their fulfilment, their supernatural prescience, are all fully ascertained."! On this sort of ground men came to rest the proof of Christianity.^ ♦ Davison's Discourses on Prophecy ; Discourse II. Part 2, t Discourses IX. and XII. 8 113 Now, it may be said, indeed, that a prediction fulfilled, an exhibition of supernatural prescience, proves nothing for or against the truth and ne- cessity of conduct and righteousness. But it must be allowed, notwithstanding, that while human nature is what it is, the mass of men are likely to listen more to a teacher of righteousness, if he ac- companies his teaching by an exhibition of super- natural prescience. And what were called the "signal predictions" concerning the Christ of pop- ular theology, as they stand in our Bibles, had and have undoubtedly a look of supernatural pre- science. The employment of capital letters, and other aids, such as the constant use of the future tense, naturally and innocently adopted by inter- preters who were profoundly convinced that Christianity needed these express predictions and that they must be in the Bible, enhanced, cer- tainly, this look ; but the look, even without these aids, was sufficiently striking. That Jacob on his death-bed should, two thou- sand years before Christ, have "been enabled," as the phrase is, to foretell to his son Judah that "the sceptre shall not depart from Judah until Shilob (or the Messiah) come, and to him shall the gathering of the people be," does seem, when the explanation is put with it that the Jewish king- dom lasted till the Christian era and then per- ished, a miracle of prediction in favor of our cur- rent Christian theology. That Jeremiah should have "been enabled" to foretell, in the name of Jehovah: "The days come when I will raise to David a righteous Branch ; in his days Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely ; and this is the name whereby he shall be called, The Lord Our Righteousness 1" does seem a wonder of pre- 114: THE PROOF FROM PROPHECY. diction in favor of that tenet of the Godhead of the Eternal Son, for which the Bishops of Win- chester and Gloucester are so anxious to do some- thing. For unquestionably Jehovah is often spoken of as the saviour of Judah and Israel: *'A11 flesh shall know that I the Eternal am thy saviour and thy redeemer, the mighty one of Jacob" ; and in the prophecy given above as Jere- miah's, the Branch of David is clearly identified with Jehovah. Again, that David should say, "The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand until I make thy foes thy footstool," does seem a prodigy of prediction to the same effect. That he should say, "Kiss the Son, lest he be angry and so ye perish," does seem a super- naturally prescient assertion of the Eternal Son- ship. And so long as these prophecies stand as they are here given, they no doubt bring to Christianity all the support (and with the mass of mankind this is by no means inconsiderable) which it can derive from the display of super- natural prescience. But who will dispute that it more and more be- comes known that these prophecies cannot stand as we have here given them? Manifestly, it more and more becomes known, that the passage from Genesis, with its mysterious Sbiloh and the gath- ering of the people to him, is rightly to be ren- dered as follows: "The pre-eminence shall not de- part from Judah ^o long as the people resort to Shiloh (the national sanctuary before Jerusalem was won) ; and the nations (the heathen Canaan- ites) shall obey him" We here purposely leave out of sight any such consideration as that our actual books of the Old Testament came first to- gether through the piety of the house of Judah, and when the destiny of Judah was already 115 LITERATURE AND DOGMA. traced; and that to say roundly: '^ Jacob was en- abled to foretell: The sceptre shall not depart from Judah," as if "we were speaking of a proph- ecy preached and published by Dr. Gumming, is wholly inadmissible. For this consideration is of force, indeed, but it is a consideration drawn from the rules of literary history and criticism, and not likely to have weight with the mass of mankind. Palpable error and mis- translation are what will have weight with them. And what, then, will they say as they come to know (and do not and must not more and more of them come to know it every day?) that Jere- miah's supposed signal identification of Christ with the Grod of Israel: *'I will raise to David a righteous Branch, and this is the name whereby he shall be called. The Lord Our Righteousness," runs really: *'I will raise to David a righteous branch; in his days Judah shall be saved and Israel shall dwell safely; and this is the name whereby they shall call themselves: The Eternal is our righteousness!^' The prophecy thus be- comes simply one of the many promises of a suc- cessor to David under whom the Hebrew people should trust in the Eternal and follow righteous- ness ; just as the prophecy from Genesis is one of the many prophecies of the enduring continuance of the greatness of Judah. "The Lord said unto my Lord," in like manner — will not people be startled when they find that it ought to run in- stead: "The Eternal said unto my lord the king," —a simple promise of victory to a prince of God's chosen people?— and that, "Kiss the Son," is in reality, "Be warned," or, "be instructed" ; "lay hold," according to the Septuagint, "on instruc- tion"? 116 THE PROOF FROM PROPHECY. 3. Leslie, in his once famous **Short and Easy Method with the Deists," speaks of the impugners of the current evidences of Christianity as men who consider the Scripture histories and the Christian religion ''cheats and impositions of cun- ning and designing men upon the credulity of simple people." Collins, and the whole array of writers at whom Leslie aims this, greatly need to be re-surveyed from the point of view of our own age. Nevertheless, we may grant that some of them, at any rate, conduct their attacks on the current evidences for Christianity in such a man- ner as to give the notion that in their opinion Christianity itself, and religion, is a cheat and an imposture. But how far more prone will the mass of mankind be to hearken to this opinion, if they have been kept intent on predictions such as those of which we have given specimens ; if they have been kept full of the great importance of this nar- row line of mechanical evidence, and then suddenly find that this line of evidence gives way at all points? It can hardly be gainsaid, that, to a deli- cate and penetrating criticism, it has long been manifest that the chief iziera7 fulfilment by Christ of things said by the prophets was the fulfilment such as would naturally be given by one who nourished his spirit on the prophets and on living and acting their words. The great prophecies of Isaiah and Jeremiah are, critics can now see, not strictly predictions at all ; and predictions which are strictly meant as such, like those in the Book of Daniel, are an embarrassment to the Bible rather than a main element of it. The "Zeit- Greist," and the mere spread of what is called en- ligbtenment, superficial and barren as this often is, will inevitably, before long, make this convio- 117 tion of criticism a popular opinion held far and wide. And then, what will be their case, who have been so long and sedulously taught to rely on supernatural predictions as a mainstay? The same must be said of miracles. The substi- tution of some other proof of Christianity for this accustomed proof is now to be desired most by those who most think Christianity of importance. That old friend of ours on whom we have for- merly commented,* who insists upon it that Chris- tianity is and shall be nothing else but this, "that Christ promised Paradise to the saint and threat- ened the worldly man with hell-fire, and proved his power to promise and threaten by rising from the dead and ascending into heaven," is certainly not the guide whom lovers of Christianity, if they could discern what it is that he really expects and aims at, and what it is which they themselves really desire, would think it wise to follow. I But the subject of miracles is a very great one ; it includes within itself, indeed, the whole question about "supernatural prescience," which meets us when we deal with prophecy ."1 And this great sub- ject requires, in order that we may deal with it properly, some little recapitulation of our original design in this essay, and of the circumstances in which the cause of religion and of the Bible seems to be at this moment placed. * St. Paul and Protestajitlsm, p. 167. 118 CHAPTER V. The Proof From Miracles. We have seen that some new treatment or other the religion of the Bible certainly seems to require, for it is attacked on all sides, and the theologians are not so successful as one might wish in defend- ing it. One critic says, that if these islands had no religion at all, it would not enter into his mind to introduce the religious and ethical idea by the agency of the Bible; another, that though certain commonplaces are common to all systems of morality, yet the Bible way of enunciating these commonplaces no longer suits us. And we may rest assured, he adds, that by saying what we think in some other, more congenial, language, we shall really be taking the shortest road to dis- covering the new doctrines which will satisfy at once our reason and our imagination. Another critic goes farther still, and calls Bible religion not only destitute of a modern and congenial way of stating its commonplaces of morality, but a defacer and disfigurer of moral treasures which were once in better keeping. {The more one stud- ies, the more, says he, one is convinced, that the religion which calls itself revealed contains, in the way of what is good, nothing which is not the incoherent and ill-digested residue of the wisdom of the ancients. 7 To the same effect the Duke of Somerset,— who has been affording lately proof to the world that our aristocratic class are not, as has been said, inaccessible to ideas and merely po- LITERATURE AND DOGMA. lite, but that they are familiar, on the contrary, with modem criticism of the most advanced kind, — the Duke of Somerset finds very much to be dis- satisfied with in the Bible and its teaching; al- though the soul, he says, has (outside the Bible, apparently) one unassailable fortress to which she may retire, — faith in Grod. All this seems to threaten to push Bible religion from the place it has long held in our affections. And even what the most modern criticism of all sometimes does, to save it and set it up again, can hardly be called very flattering to it. For whereas the Hebrew race imagined that to them were committed the oracles of Grod, and that their God, "the Eternal who loveth righteousness," was the God to whom every knee should bow and every tongue swear, there now comes Monsieur Emile Bumouf, the accomplished son of a gifted father, and will prove to us in a thick volume* that the oracles of God were not committed to a Semitic race at all, but to the Aryan; that the true God is not Israel's God at all, but is ''the idea of the absolute" which Israel could never properly master. This "sacred theory of the Aryas," it seems, passed into Palestine from Per- sia and India, and got possession of the founder of Christianity and of his greatest apostles, St. Paul and St. John; becoming more perfect, and returning more and more to its true character of a "transcendent metaphysic," as the doctors of the Christian Church developed it. So that we Christians, who are Aryas, may have the satis- faction of thinking that "the religion of Christ has not come to us from the Semites," and that "it is in the hymns of the Veda and not in the Bible that we are to look for the primordial source of * La Science des Eeligions. PariSf 1872. 120 THE PROOF FROM MIRACLES. our religion." The theory of Christ is accordingly the theory of the Vedie Agni, or ^re; the Incar- nation represents the Vedic solemnity of the pro- duction of Arej symbol of force of every kind, of all movementj life, and thought; the Trinity of Father, Son, and Spirit is the Vedic Trinity of Sun, Fire, and Wind; and God, finally, is "acos- mic unity." Such speculations almost take away the breath of a mere man of letters. What one is inclined to say of them is this : Undoubtedly these exploits of the Aryan genius are gratifying to us members of the Aryan race. The Grod of the Hebrews, M. Burnouf says expressly, **was not a cosmic unity" ; the religion of the Hebrews "had not that transcendent metaphysic which the genius of the Aryas requires"; and, "in passing from the Aryan race to the inferior races, religion underwent a deterioration due to the physical and moral con- stitution of these races." For reUgion, it must be remembered, is, in M. Bumouf's view, fundamen- tally a science; "a metaphysical conception, a theory, a synthetic explanation of the universe." Now "the perfect Arya is capable of a great deal of science; the Semite is inferior to him." As Aryas or Aryans, then, we ought to be pleased at having vindicated the greatness of our race, and having not borrowed a Semitic religion, but trans- formed it by importing our own metaphysics into it. And this seems to harmonize very well with what the Bishops of Winchester and Gloucester say about "doing something for the honor of Our Lord's Godhead," and about "the infinite separa- tion for time and for eternity which is involved in rejecting the Godhead of the Eternal Son, Very God of Very God, Light of Light" ; and also with 121 LITERATUBE AND DOGMA. the Athanasian Creed generally, and with what the clergy write to the "Gruardian" about "eternal life being unquestionably annexed to a right knowledge of the Grodhead." For all these have in view high science and metaphysics, worthy of the Aryas. But to Bible religion, in the plain sense of the word, it is not flattering; for it throws overboard almost entirely the Old Testa- ment, and makes the essence of the New to con- sist in an esoteric doctrine not very visible there, but more fully developed outside of it. The meta- physical element is made the fundamental element in religion; but "the Bible books, especially the more ancient of them, are destitute of metaphys- ics, and consequently of method and classification in their ideas.'* Israel, therefore, instead of being a light of the Gentiles and a salvation to the ends of the earth, falls to a place in the world's re- ligious history behind the Arya, He is dismissed as ranking anthropologically between the Aryas and the yellow men ; as having frizzled hair, thick lips, small calves, flat feet, and belonging, above all, to those "occipital races" whose brain cannot grow after the age of sixteen ; whereas the brain of a theological Arya, such as one of our bishops, may go on growing all his life. But we who think that the Old Testament leads surely up to the New, who believe that, indeed, "salvation is of the Jews," and that, for what concerns conduct or righteousness (that is, for what concerns three fourths of human life), they and their documents can no more be neglected by whoever would make proficiency in it, than Greece can be neglected by any one who would make proficiency in art, or Newton's discoveries by whoever would comprehend the world's physical laws,— Tre are naturally not satisfied with this 122 THE PROOF FROM MIRACLES. treatment of Israel and the Bible. And admitting that Israel shows no talent for metaphysics, we say that his religious greatness is just this, that he does not found religion on metaphysics, but on moral experience, which is a much simpler matter ; and that, ever since the apparition of Israel and the Bible, religion is no longer what, according to M. Bumouf, to our Aryan forefathers in the valley of the Oxus it was,— and what perhaps it really was to thenii — a metaphysical theory, but is what Israel has made it. And what Isra-el made, and how he made it, we seek to show from the Bible itself. Thus we hope to win for the Bible and its religion, which seem to us so indispensable to the world, an access to many of those who now neglect them. For there is this to be said against M. Burnouf's meta- physics: no one can allege that the Bible has failed to win access for want of metaphysics being applied to it. Metaphysics are just what all our theology runs up into, and our bishops, as we have seen, are here particularly strong. But we have seen that the making religion into meta- physics is the weakening of religion; now M. Burnouf makes religion into metaphysics more than ever. Yet evidently the metaphysical method lacks power for laying hold on people, and com- pelling them to receive the Bible from it ; it is felt to be inconclusive as thus employed, and its in- conclusiveness tells against the Bible. This is the case with the metaphysics of our bishops, and it will be the same with M. Burnouf's new meta- physics also. They will be found, we fear, to have an inconclusiveness in their recommendation of Christianity. To very many persons, indeed to the great majority, such a method, in such a mat- ter, must be inconclusive. 123 LITERATURE AND DO&MA. 2. Therefore we "would not allow ourselves to start with any metaphysical conception at all, not with the monotheistic idea, as it is styled, any more than with the pantheistic idea; and, indeed, we are quite sure thatJsrael himself began with nothing of the kind. \The idea of God, as it is given us in the Bible, rests, we say, not on a metaphysical conception of the necessity of certain deductions from our ideas of cause, existence, identity, and the like ; but on a moral perception of a rule of conduct not of our own making, into which we are born, and which exists whether we will or no ; of awe at its grandeur and necessity, and of gratitude at its beneficence-^This is the great original revelation made to Israel, this is his "Eternal." Man, however, as GToethe says, "never knows how anthropomorphic he is." Israel described his Eternal in the language of poetry and emotion, and could not thus describe him but with the character of a man. Scientifically he never at- tempted to describe him at all. But stiU the Eternal was ever at last reducible, for Israel, to the reality of experience out of which the revela- tion sprang; he was "the righteous Eternal who loveth righteousness.'' They who "seek the Eter- nal," and they who "follow after righteousness," were identical; just as, conversely, they who "fear the Eternal," and they who "depart from evil," were identical. Above all: "He that feareth the Eternal happy is he" ; "it is joy to the just to do judgment"; "righteousness tendeth to 7i/e"; "the righteous is an everlasting foundation.'" But, as time went on, facts seemed, we saw, to contradict this fundamental belief, to refute this faith in the Eternal ; material forces prevailed, and 124; THE PROOF FROM MIRACLES. God appeared, as they say, to be on the side of the big battalions. The great unrighteous king- doms of the world, kingdoms which cared far less than Israel for righteousness, and for the Eternal who makes for righteousness, overpowered Israel. Prophecy assured him that the triumph of the Eternal's cause and people was certain: "Behold, the Eternal's hand is not shortened that it can- not save." The triumph was but adjourned through Israel's own sins: "Tour iniquities have separated between you and your God." Prophecy directed his thoughts to the future, and promised to him a new everlasting kingdom under a heav- en-sent leader. The characters of this kingdom and leader were more spiritualized by one prophet, more materialized by another. As time went on, in the last centuries before our era, they became increasingly turbid and phantasmagorical. In ad- dition to his original experimental belief in the almighty Eternal who makes for righteousness, Israel had now a vast Aberglaubej an after or extra^belief, not experimental, in an approaching kingdom of the saints, to be established by an Anointed, a Messiah, "one like the Son of Man," commissioned from the Ancient of Days and com- ing in the clouds of heaven. Jesus came, calling himself the Messiah, the Son of Man, the Son of Grod; and the question is. What is the true meaning of these assertions of his, and of all his teaching? It is the same ques- tion we had about the Old Testament. Is the language scientific, or, as we say, literary; that is, the language of poetry and emotion, approxi- mative language, thrown outj as it were, at cer- tain great objects which the human mind augurs and feels after, but not language accurately defin- ing them? Popular religion says, we know, that 125 the language is scientific: that the God of the Old Testament is a great Personal First Cause, who thinks and loves (for this too, it seems, we ought to have added), the moral and intelligent Grover- nor of the universe. Learned religion, the meta- physical theology of our bishops, proves or con- firms this by abstruse reasoning of our ideas from cause, design, existence, identity, and so on. Pop- ular religion rests it altogether on miracles. The Grod of Israel, for popular religion, is a mag- nified and non-natural man who has really worked stupendous miracles, whereas the Grods of the heathen were vainly imagined to be able to work them, but could not, and had therefore no real existence. Of this Grod, Jesus for popular re- ligion is the Son. He came to appease Grod's wrath against sinful men by the sacrifice of him- self ; and he proved his Sonship by a course of stupendous miracles, and by the wonderful accom- plishment in him of the supernatural Messianic predictions of prophecy. Here, again, learned re- ligion elucidates and develops the relation of the Son to the Father by a copious exhibition of metaphysics ; but for popular religion the relation- ship, and the authority of Jesus which derives from it, is altogether established by miracle. Now, we have seen that our bishops and their metaphysics are so little convincing, that many people throw the Bible quite aside, and will not attend to it, because they are given to under- stand that the metaphysics go necessarily along with it, and that one cannot be taken without the other. So far, then, the talents of the Bishops of Winchester and Grloucester, and their zeal to do something for the honor of the Eternal Son's Grod- head, may be said to be actual obstacles to the receiving and studying of the Bible. But the same 126 THE PROOF FROM MIRACLES. may now be also said of the popular theology which rests the Bible's authority and the Chris- tian religion on miracle. To a great many per- sons this is tantamount to stopping their use of the Bible and of the Christian religion; for they have made up their minds that what is popularly called miracle never really happens nor can hap- pen, and that the belief in it arises out of igno- rance, fraud, or mistake. To these persons we re- store the use of the Bible, if, while showing them that the Bible language is not scientific, but the language of common speech or of poetry and elo- quence, approximative language thrown out at certain great objects of consciousness which it does not pretend to define fully, we convince them at the same time that this language deals with facts of experience most momentous and real. We have sought to do this for the language of the Old Testament first, and we now seek to do it for that of the New. Our attempt, therefore, has in view those who now throw the Bible aside, not those who receive it on the ground supplied either by popular theology or by metaphysical theology. For persons of this kind, what we say neither will have, nor seeks to have, any con- straining force at all ; only it is rendered necessary by the want of constraining force, for others than themselves, in their own theology. How little constraining force metaphysical dogma has, we all see. And we have shown, too, how the proof from the fulfilment in Christ of a number of definite, de- tailed predictions, supposed to have been made with supernatural prescience about him long before- hand, is losing, and seems likely more and more to lose, its constraining force. It is found that the predictions and their fulfilment are not what they are said to be. 127 Now we come to miracleSj more specially so called ; and we have to see whether the constrain- ing force of this proof, too, must not be admitted to be far less than it used to be, and whether some other source of authority for the Bible is not much to be desired. 3. (^That miracles, when fully believed, are felt by men in general to be a source of authority, it is absurd to deny. 7 One may say, indeed: Suppose I could change the pen with which I write this into a pen-wiper, I should not thus make what I write any the truer or more convincing. That may be so in reality, but the mass of mankind feel differ- ently. In the judgment of the mass of mankind, could I visibly and undeniably change the pen with which I write this into a pen- wiper, not only would this which I write acquire a claim to be held perfectly true and convincing, but I should even be entitled to affirm, and to be believed in affirming, propositions the most palpably at war with common fact and experience. Jit is almost impossible to exaggerate the proneness of the hu- man mind to take miracles as evidence, and to seek for miracles as evidence; or the extent to which religion, and religion of a true and admi- rable kind, has been, and is still, held in connec- tion with a reliance upon miracles. 1 This reliance will long outlast the reliance on the supernatural prescience of prophecy, for it is not exposed to the same tests. To pick Scripture miracles one by one to pieces is an odious and repulsive task ; it is also an unprofitable one, for whatever we may think of the affirmative demonstrations of them, a negative demonstration of them is, from the circumstances of the case, impossible. And yet the human mind is assuredly passing away, however 128 THE PROOF FROM MIRACLES. slowly, from this hold of reliance also ; and those who make it their stay will more and more find it fail them, will be more and more disturbed, shaken, distressed, and bewildered. iFor it is what we call the Time-Sphit that is sapping the proof from mlra is With o /xLauf, but thQ SGUSQ fllXd eflOCt Is 08 given above. 185 iilTJUKATDRE AND DOGMA. life in this world, meant following those "wishes of the flesh and of the current thoughts" which Jesus had, by his method, already put his disciples in the way of sifting and scrutinizing, and of trying by the standard of conformity to conscience. Thus, after putting him by his method in the way to find what doing righteousness was, by his secret Jesus put the disciple in the way of do- ing it. For the breaking the sway of what is commonly called one's self, ceasing our concern with it and leaving it to perish, is not, he said, being thwarted or crossed, but living. And the proof of this is that it has the characters of life in the highest degree, — the sense c2 going right, hitting the mark, succeeding. That is, it has the characters of happiness; and happiness is, for Israel, the same thing as having the Eternal with uB, seeing the salvation of Grod. "The tree," as Jesus was always saying, "is known by its iruits'' ; Jesus was to be received by Israel as sent from Grod, because the secret of Jesus leads to the salvation of G-od, which is what Israel most de- sired, "The word of the cross," in short, turned out to be at the same time "the word of the king- dom."* And to this experimental sanction of his secret, this sense it gives of having the Eternal on our side and approving us, Jesus appealed when he said of himself: "Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I may take it again," This, again, in our popular theurgy, is materialized into the First Person of the Trinity approving the Second, because he stands to the contract already in the Council of the Trinity passed. But what it really means is, that the joy of Jesus, of this "Son of peace," the "joy" he was bo desirous that his disciples should * 'O Adyoc r^; fia^r^\eias, — Matt. xiil. 19. 1S6 THE TESTIMONY OF JESUS TO HIMSELF. find "fulfilled in themselves," was due to his hav- ing himself followed his own secret.j And the great counterpart to : "A life-giving change of the inner man/' — the promise: "Peace through Jesus Christ I "—is peace through this secret of his. Now, the value of this rule that one should die to one's apparent self, Uve to one's real self, de- pends upon whether it is true. And true it cer- tainly is ; — a profound truth of what our scientific friends, who have a systematic philosophy and a nomenclature to match, and who talk of Egoism and Altruism, would call, perhaps, psycho-physi- ology- -A-nd we may trace men's experience affirm- ing and confirming it, from a very plain and level account of it to an account almost as high and solemn as that of Jesus. That an opposition there is, in all matter of what we call conduct, between a man's first impulses and what he ulti- mately finds to be the real law of his being ; that a man accompUshes his right function as a man, fulfils his end, hits the mark, in giving effect to the real law of his being ; and that happiness attends his thus hitting the mark, — all good observers re- port. No statement of this general experience can be simpler or more faithful than one given us by that great naturalist, Aristotle.* "In all wholes made up of parts," says he, "there is a ruler and a ruled; throughout nature this is so; we see it even in things without life, they have their har- mony or Jaw. The Hving being is composed of soul and body, whereof the one is naturally ruler and the other ruled. Now what is natural we are to learn from what fulfils the law of its na- ture most, and not from what is depraved. So we ought to take the man who has the best dis- position of body and soul ; and in him we shall ♦Politics, L 5. 187 find that this is bo ; for in people that are griev- ous both to others and to themselves the body may often appear ruling the soul, because such people are poor creatures and false to nature." And Aristotle goes on to distinguish between the body, over which, he says, the rule of the soul is absolute, and the "movement of thought and de- sire," over which reason has, says he, "a constitu- tional rule," in words which exactly recall St. Paul's phrase for our double enemy: "the fesb and the current thoughts" So entirely are we here on ground of general experience. And if we go on and take this maxim from Stobaeus: "All fine acquirement implies a foregoing exercise of self-control" ;* or this from the Latin poet: **Eule your current self or it will rule you I bridle it in and chain it downI"t or this from Goethe's auto- biography: "Everything cries out to us that we must renounce" ;t or still more this from his Faust; "Thou must go without, go without! that is the everlasting song which every hour, all our life through, hoarsely sings to usl "§ — then we have testimony not only to the necessity of this natural law of rule and suppression, but also to the strain and labor and suffering which attend it. But when we come a little farther and take a sentence like this of Plato: "Of suff*erings and pains Cometh help, for it is not possible by any other way to be ridded of our iniquity" ;|| then * Uavrhi Kokov KTrjixaTOi ttovos it party viTai, ® ''*^' iyKpintav* + . . . Anlmum rege, qui nisi paret Imperat ; hunc fraenis hunc tu compesce catenls. $ Alles rvlt uns zu, dass wlr entsagen sollen. 6 Entbehren sollst du ! soUst entbelirezi I Das 1st der ewlge Gesang, Den unser ganzes Leben lang Uns helser jede Stunde slnfirt. H Ai dAy7j£di'a)i' Kat oBvviliv yiyfeTai 17 ut(f>i\€ia ' ov yap ol6v ri oAAus aSiKtas a.iraWarT€