iillllll'linii'nii! I illlil ill Iftiiiiliiln^^ mwmwfft'rm" i I lililii 11;: Hi in *!/• PRINCETON, N. J. **fh Purchased by the Mrs. Robert Lenox Kennedy Church History Fund. BR 479 .012 1902 v. 2 Grant, William Daniel, 1853- Christendom anno Domini | MDCCCCI . . Christendom Anno Domini M D C C C C I Eleven hundred pages. Illustrated In Tivo Octavo Volumes. VOL. II. A Presentation of Christian Con- ditions and Activities in Every Country of the World at the Beginning of the Twentieth Century by more than sixty Competent Contributors ; .• .• .• ; .• .• E 1 1 1 ■[ ED v.\, REV. WILLIAM D.^GRANT, Ph.D. With Introductory Note by P re s ide n t CHARLES CUTHBERT HALL, D.D. New York Chauncey Holt 1902 Copyright 1902 BY WM. D. GRANT Chauncey Holt Printer -7 Rose St., New York Iln Sincere OLo^alt^ ZTo Ibim TObO0e II am anb Mbom 11 serve To recognize as brethren those who differ from us in religion ; To accord to such the rights and privileges which belong to them ; To covet for them the best gifts and graces ; To give them full credit for the good that appears in them ; To speak well of their persons and to show interest in their work ; To rejoice in whatever success attends their labors ; To believe that their motives may be, at least, as pure as our own ; To bid them god-speed in life and action ; To follow after the things which make for peace and things wherewith one may edify another ; This is to manifest in no small degree the love of our Lord Jpsim Christ ; the spirit of tolerance and good will to men -n Inlly exemplified in His life and enforced by His teachings. CONTENTS. VOLUME II. New Problems of Christianity Manciu^ H. Button, D.D. Gains of Christianity President John U. Barrows, D.D. Religious Thought in 19th Century George T. Purves, D.D., LL.D. Social Aspect of Christianity ./. //. W. Stifckcnberg, D.D., LL.D. Revivals in 19th Century J. Wilhtir Chapman, D.D. <5::ri{iSTiANiTY and Philanthropy C. H. d'E. Leppington Art and Religious I'rogress Francis E. Marsien, D.IK Religious Leaders in 19th Century "Simeon and Schleiermacher," by Prof. Jackson; "Bushnell," by Dr. Munger; "Martineau," by Dr. Grant; '-Ritschl," by Dr. Garvie; "Brooks," by Prof. Allen; "Moody," by Dr. Dixon. Critical Movements in 19Tn Century .... Pro/. Geo. H. Schodde. Ph.D. Religious Press IF. C. Gray, Ph.D., LL.D. Roman Catholic Christianity Rev. Alex. P. Doyle (Paulist) Roman Catholic Missions Rev. Alrx. P. Doyle (Paulist) Greek Christianity Prof. A. C. Zenos, D.D. Protestant Christianity Rev. Wm. D. Grant, Ph.D. Protestant Missions Judson Smith, D.D. Essential Christianity Rev. Wm. D. Grant, Ph.D. Religions Contrasted Prof. Allan llenzies, D.D. Disunion of Christendom .A. 8. Crapsey, D.D. Church Union Bishop John F. Hurst, D.D., LL.D. Federation of Churches Rev. WalterLaidlatv, Ph.D. The Sunday-school A- i^- Schauffler, D.D. Origin and Progress of the Y. M. C. A . . . . President L. L. Doggett, Ph.f). Evangelical Alliance Rev. Wm. D. Grant, Ph.D. Rescue Work Kaie W. Barrett, M.D. W. C. T. U. Origin and Progress Katharine L. Stevenson Student Federation foh", R. Mott The Salvation Army Commander Booth Tucker Social Settlements Robert A. Woods Christian Endeavor Society Francis E. Clark, D.D. King's Daughters and Sons Rev. Wm. D. Grant. Ph.D. CONTENTS. VOLUME II. PAGE New I'roblems of Christianity, Mancius H. Hutton, D.D 1 Forenote : Getting people to attend church, p. 1. — Prediction perilous, p. 2. — The mission problem, p. 4. — Religious indifiference, p. 5. — The resetting of the Bible, p. 6. — Sabbath observance, p. 7. — Family religion, p. 8. — Christian doctrine, p. 10. Gains of Christianity in the IOtii Century, President John Henry Barrous, D.D 12 Christian progress — extensive and intensive, pp. 32-14. — The Bible better understood, p. 14. — Fellowship and tolerance, p. 14. — The century and the growth of toleration, p. 15. — Men and influ- ences which have made for religious liberty, p. 18. — The true chui'ch better understood, p. 19. — The drawing together of Christian hearts, p. 20. — Change in religious form and method, p. 21. — The church beginning to take the view-point of Jesus Christ, p. 22. Religious Thought in the IOth Century, George T. Purves, D.D., LL.D 23 Christianity claims the right to govern the whole man, p. 23. — Religious thougiit stirred by the thinking done in other lines, p. 24. — ( 1 ) Note emphasis laid on the soul's immediate relation to God, p. 24. — The Divine immanence, p. 26. — (2) The emphasis placed on the love of (>od, p. 27. — The Fatherhood of God, p. 28. — (3) Historical criticism, p. 29. — (4) Progress of physical sciences, p. 31. — (5) Christianity thought of as a social force, p. 33. — (6) Thought with regard to the comparative study of religions, p. 35. — Christianity the absolute religion, p. 3G. The Sociai, Aspect of Ciip.istianity, ,/. //. IF. ,^t.ucJ:enberg, D.D., LL.D 37 The new spirit in th.' Clu'istian C-hurch, ik .'57. — The influences which begat the new order, p. 37. — The French revolution and the Socialist's aim, p. 38. — Religious life and metaphysical speculation, p. 41. — Attacks on Holy Scripture — Strauss, p. 11.— Recent social movements due to many causes, p. 42. — Clerical apathy in England, p. 42. — A great awakening in England, p. 45. — Social movement in Germany, p. 4.'). — Catholic and Protestant, p. 47. — Modern social movement in the Tnited States, p. 48. — The pulpit and the social movement in the United States, p. .50. — Movement mainly begun by individuals in the IT. S.. p. 51.— Theories adopted not always uni- form nor Biblical, p. .53. — The new social Gosjjel, p. 54. — The method CONTENTS. 7 PAGE of Jesus, p. 55. — The study of Scripture and human relations, p. 56. — Social awakening of the church, p. 57. — Institutional church work, p. 58. — Religion brought out into daylight, p. 59. Nineteenth Century Revivals, J. Wilbur Chapman, D.D 61 Forenote : Revivals still a need of the church, p. 61. — The closing years of the century not encouraging, p. 02. — Modern Christianity and revival movements, p. G2.— Revivals in colleges, p. 64. — The prince of evangelists, p. 65. — The revival of 1S57, p. 66. — Mr. D wight L. Moody, p. (58. — What has been accomplished by revivals? p. 70. Philanthropy in the 19th Century, C H. d'E. Loppington 72 Forenote : Christianity and philanthropy, p. 72. — The altruistic spirit preceded Christianity, p. 72. — Liberality among the ancients, but no philanthropy, p. 7.3. — Christian benevolence embraces all men. p. 74. — No other religion has so insisted upon and inspired charity, p. 75. — Parish relief in the seventh century, p. 76. — Early and later provisions for the destitute in the United States, p. 77. — National provision for the poor in other countries — England, p. 79 ; Ger- many, p. 80 ; Scandinavia, Russia, France, p. 81 ; Belgium, Hol- land, p. 82 ; Italy, p. 83. — State and individual aid, p. 84. — Altered social conditions require new methods, p. 85. — Improved accommo- dation, p. 86. — Associations for philanthropic service, p. 86. — Kais- erswerth. the Salvation Army, p. 87. — Many fresh philanthropic shoots, p. 88. — Providing for defectives, p. 91. — The housing of the poor, p. 92. — Personal contact, p. 93. — "Friendly Visitor," p. 94. — Charity organization, p. 95. — Industrial co-operation, p. 96. — The evils of uninstructed philanthropy, p. 97. — Results of the survey, p. 98. Art and Social and Religious Progress, Francis E. Marsten, D.D.. 100 Forenote : Tendency of imagery in public worship, p. 100. — The relations of art to religious and social progress, p. 100. — Art and morals, p. 102. — Art and worship, p. 103.— Art and the reformation, p. 104. — Art and social well-being, p. 104. — Prof. Hamlin's observa- tion, p. 107. — Robertson's picture and its effect, p. 108. — Art in kitchen stoves, p. 108. — Pullman's model town, p. 109. — Money val- uation of things, p. 109. — Modern art an enrichment, p." 110. — De- formity and Divinity far apart, p. 112. — Much remains to be done, p. 112. Religious Leaders 114 Forenote: The imperishable and the Carpenter's Son. p. 114. Charles Simeon, Samuel Macauley Jackson, D.D., LL.D 115 The evangelical movement in England, p. 11.5. — Early pastoral difficulties and ultimate success, p. 116. Friedricii Schleiermacher, Samuel Macauley Jackson, D.D., LL.D. 117 Early life and training, p. 117. — His "Speeches on Religion" and their effect, p. 118. — Becomes professor at Berlin, p. 119. Horace Bushneli>. Theodore T. Hunger, D.D 120 8 PON TENTS. PAGE His iiiflui'ucL' still ijrowiug. p. IL'O. — Early life and studies, p. 120. —Mental powers and freedom, p. 121. — Pastoral labors and literary efforts, p. 122. — He is charged with heresy, p. 124. .l.<.MEs Marti.neau, liei-. Wm. D. Grant, Ph.D 127 Where and how his early yeaiw were spent, p. 127. — Pastoral charges — Duhlin, Liverpool. London, pp. 128-9. — Professor at Man- chester New College, p. 128. — Visits (Jermany, is chosen principal of New College, retires at the age of 85, p. 129. — The Metaphysical Society and Martineau's tolerance, p. 130. — Appearance and char- acteristics, p. 130. — As a preacher, p. 13L — The fruits of his literary activities, p. 132. — Theological hent — Unitarian, p. 134. — Academic honors and personal appreciation, p. 136. — The great address, p. 137. — His "unique personality" and pre-eminence among master minds. p. 138. Aluuhciit Uit.sciii.. Rev. Alfred E. Garvie, B.D 139 By birth and breeding dedicated to theology, p. 139. — His mental history ; professor at Bonn, then at Gottingen. p. 139. — Published works, p. 140. — The Kitschlian school of theologians and their dis- tinctive doctrines, p. 141. — Merits and influence of the school, p. 142. Phillips Bbook.s, Alexander V. G. Allen, D.D 144 The sphere and fruits of his activity, p. 144.-— Con.spicuous as a preacher, p. 144. — A mind capable of clear thinking, "The influence of Jesus," p. 147. — All sectarianism seemed to disappear in his pres- ence, p. 148. DwiouT L. MoouY, A. ('. Dixon, D.D 148 Forenote: By weight of i)ersonality born to command, p. 148.— He was honest and humble, p. 149. — He was practical, hopeful, brave, and tolerant, p. 150. — He made himself the servant of all ; a preacher, rather than a teacher, p. 151. — He was a prophet of God and his mes-sage was "Salvation liy Grace," p. 1.52. MovEME.NTs Ckitical AND Etuical, George II. ^chodde, Ph.D 155 Forenote: The right and need of criticism, p. 155. — Criticism not regarding doctrine but the Scriptures themselves, p. 155. — Criticism has emphasized the human side of tlio Scriptures, p. 156. — Higher and lower criticism, p. 1.58. — Some distingiiisliod names, p. 159. — Practical and theoretical aspects of the task, p. 100. — An attempt to reBtore tlie original readings of the O. T.. p. 161. — Higher criticism h«H met with disfavor because unknown, p. 1(>J^. — A few great names and their work, p. 164. — In both the New and the Old Testament strefw has been laid on the literary analysis of the various books, p. IWJ.— The movement originated by Hit.sclil. i). 168. — No ethical movement of a theoretical character outside that of Ritschl, p. 170. The Ukm(;i(>i;s Pkk.ss. Ifwi. C. Gray, Ph.D., LL.D 171 Forenote: PosHil)le union of the religious press, p. IVl. — Origin of the religiouH paper, p. 172.— The quality and method of the religious jonrnnlism of ili.> fntur.', p. 171. The aim of religious press, p. 175. CONTENTS. 9 PAOE Roman Catholic Christianity, Rev. Alex. P. Doyle {Paulist) 176 Forenote : Confession made by non-Catholic when uniting with the church, p. 176. — Development of the church in doctrine and ritual, p. 177. — The church more an organism than an organization, p. 178.— The church's teaching authority, p. 179. — The doctrine of Papal Infallibility, p. 180. — The seven sacraments, p. 181. — The church's standards of holy living and saintly heroism, p. 183. — Her views regarding the social order, p. 183. — The church's sympathy with labor, p. 184. — The Catholic Church is the salt of the earth, p. 185. — Beliefs which all Christians have in common, p. 186. — Devo- tion to the Virgin Mary and the saints, p. 186.— Purgatory, p. 187. Roman Catholic Missions, Rev. Alex. P. Doyle {Paulist) 188 Forenote : Martineau's tribute to the Roman Catholic Church, p. 188. — At the beginning of last century, p. 189. — The external and internal growth of the church during the century, p. 191. — Large increase of orders and communities, p. 191. — Missionary enterprises, p. 192. — Rapid growth in Anam and China, p. 194. — Captain Young- husband's tribute, p. 195. — The origin of "Propaganda de Fide," p. 195.— Statistics, p. 197. Greek Christianity, Professor A. C. Zenos, D.D 200 Forenote : Reply of Greek Church to Pope's encyclical, p. 200. — What the (Jreek Church is and embraces, p. 201. — I. The influence of Greek thought on the church, p. 202. — Clement, p. 203. — The three Gregories, p. 205. — John of Damascus, p. 206. — The form of doctrine fixed, p. 207. — II. The polity of Greek Christianity, p. 207. — Holds to the oneness of church and state, p. 208. — III. Form of worship, p. 209. — The introduction of images, p. 210. Protestant Christianity, Rev. Wm. D. Grant, Ph.D 212 Forenote : Contemplating her conquests, the Church of Rome was led t(j believs that God was in her institutions and that she was necessary to God, p. 212. — The Church of Rome lays claim to man's confidence even when she has forfeited God's favor, p. 213. — Re- ligious institutions can. no more than political or commercial, stand when they have proved recreant to trust, p. 214. — Luther's experi- ence in Rome, p. 215. — Dr. Louis Pastor's "History of the Popes Since Close of the Middle Ages," p. 216. — Rome has losf"her power, p. 217. — Rome is accountable to no one but herself, p. 217. — Glad- stone, Manning, Rome's arrogant spirit, and the original protest, p. 218. — Attempts at reform, p. 219. — How shall Protestantism be de- fined'? p. 219. — With the Roman Catholic the church is an end, with the Protestant it is but a means, p. 220. — The supremacy and sutfi- ciency of Holy Scripture, p. 221. — The right of private judgment, p. 225. — Jesus Christ the only Mediator, p. 228. — Justification by faith alone, p. 231. — Why are Protestants disliked by Roman Cath- olics? p. 233. — Protestantism will deserve the Divine disfavor as Rome has, and meet with Divine condemnation, unless she serves His people with her Ijest, p. 235. 10 CONTENTS. PAGE Protestant Fobeion Missions. Judson 8mith, D.D 230 Forenote : The spirit of union more manifest in the foreign field than at home, p. 1230. — The achievements of missions during the cen- tury as great as in any other line of progress, p. 237. — Missionary organization, p. 237. — The state of world one hundred years ago, p. 238. — Missionary expansion, p. 238. — Statistics, p. 239. — Some great names, p. 240. — Difficulty in enlisting the church in the great work, p. 240. — The native agencies, p. 241. — Evidences of progress in Mad- agascar, Fiji, China, p. 241. — At the opening of the century the great religions of the East seemed formidable, p. 242. — The message of the missionary, p. 243. — In the main the world is now open, and in most countries substantial foundations have been laid and fore- gleams of final victory have been seen, p. 243. Essential Ciiuistiaxity, Rev. Wm. D. Grant, Ph. I) 245 Systems soon depart from original simplicity, p. 245. — Christianity no exception to the rule, but possesses the power of self-renewal, p. 240. — The Reformation an attempt to return to primitive Christian- ity, p. 240. — What are fundamentals, and what circumstantials? p. 247. — No formulated system in the Gospels, p. 247. — Need not go beyond the Gospels for essential Christianity, p. 249. — We are as capable now. as in any previous period, of determining what Christi- anity is. p. 249. — The essential and distinguishing feature of Christi- anity— life in and union with Jesus Christ, p. 2.50. — IIow much knowledge is needful V p. 250. — Opinions may be held tenaciously, while fellowship with Christ in life and service are unknown, p. 251. — Life in and union with Jesus Christ the secret of all spiritual greatness and power, p. 253. — Whittier's poem, p. 2.54. Religions Contkasted, Professor Allan Men::ies, D.D 255 Forenote : The pre-Christian religions, p. 2.55. — IIow can compari- son be madeV p. 255. — If we send missionaries to heathen peoples we shuuld know tiie reason why ; why are we ourselves Christians, rather than .MoliammcdansV p. 2.50. — Wrong ways of making a comparison, p. 257. — Christianity difficult to define, equally true of other re- ligions, p. 2.5H. — Neither history nor statistics will help us, p. 259. — Religions can be judged only by their comparative value for the human spirit and for human society, p. 200. — The morphological method, p. 200. — The various f^tages of a religious development, p. 203. — Christianity is higher in the scale of religions than any other. p. 204. — Tlie (>hinese, Greece, Assyria, Egypt, even Judaism, p. 204. — Two national religions — Cliinose and Judaism, p. 205. — Three universal religions — Ituddhisni, Christianity, Islam, p. 2<;(i. — How Khali we I'ompare these three? p. 2(i7. — Buddhism, p. 207. — Islam, p. 209. — Christianity, p. 270. TuE Disunion of Ciiuihtenoom, Algernon 8. Crapsey, D.D 272 Lines of progre.ss and unification, p. 272. — Our Lord disappointed, P- 272. — There was disunion everywhere in our Lord's day, p. 273. — Our Lord's i>I«n of unification, p. 274. — Success of the plan, p. 275. CONTENTS. 11 PAGE — Failure of plan since fourth century, p. 276. — Cause of failure, p. 278. — Doctrinal unity, p. 282. — Reunion of the church in God and in humanity, p. 288. Church Union Movements, Bishop John Fletcher Hurst, D.D., LL.D. 290 Forenote : Defeat due to disunion, p. 290. — Division of Greek and Latin churches, p. 290. — First attempts at union, p. 292. — Irenic movements since the Keformation, p. 293. — The Foraiula of Concord, p. 294. — Efforts for the union of the Reformed and Lutheran bodies, p. 296. — Labors of Durie, Calixtiis, Grotius, Owen, Baxter, pp. 297- 301. — English Presbyterians and Congregationalists. p. 302. — The union of 1817, p. 305. — Protestantism and the Greek Church, p. 306. — Van Dyke, p. 310. — Recent unions and negotiations, p. 312. CHURCif Federation, Rev. Walter Laidlaio, Ph.D 321 Organic union is not in sight, p. 322. — Old World, church and state, p. 322. — England's eariy congresses, p. 323. — Contrasts with America, p. 324. — Sociological objects, p. 326. — Council member- ship, p. 327. — Catechism on church and state, p. 328. — South Africa, Jamaica, and Scotland, deuomiuational inclusion, p. 332. — Intoler- ance, London's federation, p. 333. — Special services, p. 3.34. — Mission results, p. 335. — The co-operative parish idea, p. 336. — Federation extension, p. 337. — New World federation, p. 337. — A national church, p. 338. — Political federation, p. 339. — America's problem, p. 340. — Urban population, p. 340.— Alien population, p. 341. — Conges- tion, church extension, New York's federation, p. 342. — Creeds in New York, p. 343.— Sociological bureau, p. 344. — Co-operative dis- trict plan, p. 346. — Co-operative calendars, p. 347. — Inductive church extension, p. 347. — Chicago and other cities, p. 348. The Sunday-school, A. F. Schaufflc?; D.D 353 Forenote : God's instrument for fashioning human lives, p. 353. — Oi'igin and growth of the Sunday-school, p. 353. — Means and meth- ods, p. 354. — No teaching nor accommodation too good for the Sun- day-school, p. 355. — Though great progress has been made in equip- ment and conduct, much still remains to be done, p. .355. — Leadership is the first consideration, and the second is like unto it, the system- atic preparation of the teacher for his work. p. 356. The Y. M. C. A., President L. L. Doggett, Ph.D .- 358 Forenote : The practical character and fruits of the association, p. 358. — Young men and the city, p. 359. — The origin of the association, p. 359. — International work, p. 360. — Revival of 1S57 and the Y. M. C. A., p. 300. — Evangelistic work. p. 361. — Work for young men, p. 361. — The building movement, p. 36'2. — The meeting at Louisville in 1877, p. 363. — The work in non-Christian countries, p. 363. — Boys' work, p. 364. — American international committee, p. 36-4. — The growth of the association, p. 364. — The founder of the Y. M. C. A., p. 365.— The Boston Jubilee, p. S66. Evangelical Alliance, Rev. Wni. D. Grant. Ph.D 368 Forenote: The unity is needful for the eflSciency of the Christian 12 CONTENTS. PAOE Church, p. 3(>S.— The origiu aod aim of the alliance, p. 369. — Some account of the life of Dr. Wm. Patton, p. 370.— The spread of the alliance, p. 372.— The work of the alliance, p. 372.— King of Portu- gal and the alliance, p. 374. .vEScuE Work, Kate Waller Barrett, M.D 370 Forenote: Philanthropic and religious activities in cities, p. 376. — Resi'ue work of recent origin, yet "Missions" are already planted in all the great cities, p. 377. — North End Mission, Boston, p. 377. — •'Water Street" and other missions in New York City, p. 378. — Mis- sions in other cities, p. 379. — The National Florence Crittenton Mis- sion, p. 380. — Mile-End Road and Regions Beyond Missions, Lon- don, iJ. 381. — The sort of qualification needful for this task, p. 381. — Personal contact, p. 382. — Rescue is prevention, p. 382. — Society's lowest elements must be reached and raised, p. 383. \V. C. T. U., Katharine Lcnte Stevenson 385 Forenote : Condemnation of the liquor traffic, p. 385. — History of the temperance movement in America before the W. C. T. U., p. 380. — The origin and organization of the "Union," p. 390. — Dr. Dio Lewis' part in its origin, p. 390. — The Ohio crusade, p. 391.— Early conventions and officers, p. 392. — E.xpansion and development of work, p. 393. — Miss Willard. p. 395. — Round-the-world missionaries, p. 398. — Lady Henry Somerset, p. 398. — The first world's conven- tion, p. 399.— The "Do Everything Policy," p. 399.— The work and influence of the "Union," p. 400. — Miss Willard's death, p. 402. — The Washington convention. 1900, p. 403. — Two quotations, p. 403. — The lost boy, p. 405. World-wide Student Move.\ient, John It. Matt, M.A 407 Forenote: Religion among students in 1800 and at the present time, p. 407. — The importance of the student element, p. 408. — Stu- dent organization — in America, p. 409; (Jreat Britain, p. 411 : Ger- ir.sn.v, p. 412; Scandinavia, p. 413; Switzerland, Holland. France, Egypt, p. 414: India and Ceylon, p. 415; Australasia, p. 410; China, p. 417; .Japan, p. 420. — Federation of students, p. 420. — What has been accomplished? p. 421. Salvatio.n Army, Commander Booth Tucker 423 (Jenerai Wm. Booth, p. 423. — Early life and exi)erience of Wm. Booth, p. 424. — The influence of the Nottingham revival, p. 425. — EnthuKJasm and natural leadership, p. 425. — Catherine :\Iumford, the army's mother, p. 42(». — Ecclesiastical restrictions ilrive Booth ont of "regular" work, \). 428. — Persecution, p. 429. — Evolution of the army idea. p. 429. — The army's wonderful progress, p. 431. SoriAi, SriTi.KMKNT.s, Jtolivrt A. \VoodK 432 Forenote: The meaning of religion and life taught by action, p. 432.— The motive of first settlements, p. 432.— Institutional develop- ment nnd personal influence, p. 433.— Toynbee Hall the first, p. 434. — Oxford and other houses, p. 43.5. — Fiist American .settlement, p. 430.— Dr. Stanton Ccjit and the Neiifhhorhood Ciiild, p. 437.— Hull CONTENTS. 13 PAGE House, p. 438. — Prof. Taylor's efforts in Chicago notPworthy. p. 430. — Other settlements throughout the country, p. 439. — The influence on the community and on the church, p. 440. — Bibliography, p. 441. Christian Endeavor, Francis E. Clark, D.D 442 Forenote : Enthusiasm for Christian Endeavor, p. 442. — Origin, character, and aim. p. 443. — Pledge and service, p. 444. — Fidelity and fellowship, p. 445. — First twenty years of C. E., p. 44G. — "News- Tribune" of Detroit on the convention of 1899, p. 447. BROTnERiiooD OF ANDREW AND PiTiLip, Rcv. G. E. Wtjckoff 448 Origin, aim, and growth, p. 448. Epwortii League, Brotherhood of St. Andrew. King's Daughters AND Sons, Rev. Wm, D. Grant, Fh.D 450-453 CONTENTS. VOLUME I. AFRICA Frederic Perry Nohle, Ph.D. Arabia and Peksia Rev. W. A. Shedd Australasia Rev. H. T. Burgess, LL.D. Austria Albert W. Clark, D.D. Canada George M. Grant, D.D.. LL.D. China Prof. Lmac T. Headland, S.T.B. Danubian States Rev. Marko N. Popoff aud Rev. Stephen Thomoff England and Wales Rev. J. Arthur Meeson, LL.B. France and Beloitjm M. Eugene R6vcillaud Germany Count A. Bemstorif and Pastor P. Pieper, D.D. Greece and Macedonia Socrates A. Xanthaky Uolland Rev. Wm. Thomson, B.D. Hungary Andrew Moody, D.D. India, Burma, and Ceylon James Mudge, D.D. Ireland R. MeCheyne Edgar, D.D. Italy Ale-vander Robertson, D.D. Japan Rev. Sidney L. Gulick, M.A. Korea Rev. George H. Jones, M.A. :\lAi,AY8iA Rev. n. L. E. Leuring, Ph.D. Mexico and Central America J. W. Butler, D.D. Oceania Rev. Joseph King Russia Prof. Fred. Kattenbtisch, D.D. Scandinavia C. F. Lundin, Ph.D. Scotland Prof. John Hcrkless, D.D. SlAM President Chalmers Martin, D.D. South America Elsie Wood Spain and Portitgal Rev. Wm. H. Oulick Switzerland Prof. J. Martin Vincent, Ph.D. ■I'i;bkikh Empire Prof. Edward Riggs, D.D. I'nited States— L'jman Ahhntt. D.D.. LL.D.. and ff<^\ Ww. D. Grant, Ph.D. Wert Indies Marghrrifa .■irlina Flamm. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. VOL. n. Page. Charles G. Finney 64 Charities Building, New York 72 Theodore L. Cuyler, D.D., LL.D 120 James Martineau 128 Pope Leo XIII 176 Group of Greek Clergy 200 Protestant Memorial at Spire-on-the- Rhine 216 General Neal Dow 328 John B. Gough 336 Robert Raikes 352 Sir George Williams 360 William Patton, D.D 368 Jerry McAuley 376 S. H. Hadley 384 Frances E. Willard 392 Lady Henry Somerset 400 John R. Mott '. 408 Sir Wilfrid Lawson 416 General William Booth 424 Mrs. William Booth 428 Arnold Toynbee 432 University Settlement, New York 432 Francis E. Clark, D.D 44° Y. P. S. C. E. Memorial Tablet in Williston Church, Portland, Me 448 NEW PROBLEMS OF CHRISTIANITY IN MODERN SOCIETY. Mancius H. Hutton, D.D., NEW BRUNSWICK. [Sometimes there is no good in going to churcli. It depends principally on the church. It is often claimed that church attendance is on the decrease. I do not know, but even if it is it may possibly be as much due to the debility of the churches as to the depravity of the people who stay away from them. People are not going to be drawn in by being scolded for staying out. Nor are they going to be drawn in — in a way to hold them — by being coaxed in by artificial seductions. The average man is too keen-scented to be caught in an ecclesiastical trap. A good deal of money is put into the artistic trim- mings of sanctuary service. There is no objection to the artistic if it is wrought into the body of the service, and not availed of simply as so much millinery put on to make the service more presentable. The multitudes are not hoodwinked. They know how to crowd in for the music, and then how to crowd out in time to escape the Law and the Gospel. The advertising of sensational topics is another way the pulpit takes to worry truth into reluctant hearts of advertisement-captured congregations. It does not hold the people, but it does cheapen the pulpit and set the house of God in the same row with the dry-goods stores, millinery shops and other institutions that put big headlines in the newspapers, and flaming placards in the front windows. We may call the rank and file of people very godless, but they are able to distinguish remarkably well between fact and fiction in matters of religion. I believe that ninety people out of a hundred would re- spect God's house if they were sure that it is God's house more than it is man's. It takes a good dea! besides a pulpit, a choir loft and a spire to make a church. The sanctuary is only playing with its opportunities and gr-oping along the frontier of its proper domain until it becomes in truth the very house of God, the temple which He fills with His presence, a meeting-place between God and man, and until the preacher becomes himself an apostle made compe- tent by a direct Divine inspiration to speak God's truth into the hearts of men that are tired, troubled and sin-sick. — Chables H. Pabkhubst, D. D. — Ed.] * * * It is a very obvious reflection that it would be vastly less difTicult to write this paper with authority at the end of the twentieth century rather than at its beginning. It is always easier to be a prophet 1 2 CHRISTENDOM. after the event. You go out on a spring morning to discern the probabilities of the weather of the new and still approaching day, to find that it is not easy. There are clouds in the sky, but the sun is struggling with them. The winds are variable and breathe from all quarters one after another, but from no one of them long and steadily. Under such circumstances one hesitates to say whether it will be a day of showers or of sunshine. But to-morrow it will take only a faithful observer to report what the weather was. At present, with the long day still before him, it takes a prophet to say what the weather will be. In the year 2001 we shall know what the problems of the twentieth century really were. Until that time one predicts at his peril. Clouds now black and threatening may dis- solve before they are fairly overhead. Clear spaces all blue and pellucid to-day may be the centres of cyclonic convulsion before the centurial day is over. The consideration just mentioned leads us on to observe that so- ciety itself varies from generation to generation, and from place to place. Problems which are pressing in one country may not be worth considering in another. For example, the early part of the eighteenth century, whether it be taken in Great Britain or in the United States, witnessed a totally different spiritual condition of the average population from that which obtained at the opening of the nineteenth. The work of the Wesleys and of Whitefield would hardly have had such welcome and such effectual activity in any other age than the one in which it fell. The problem which it met and solved so blessedly was one whose conditions lasted for only a decade or two. In the same way it is now impossible to foresee dis- tinctly the problems of an approaching era. Christianity must in- deed be alert to see them when they come and to solve them as they stand before its face. But there are doubtless oncoming problems in the bosom of the twentieth century which no one can treat or is competent to discuss at present. It was not until OEdipus had ar- rived at Thebes and actually stood before the Sphinx that he so much as guessed what hor riddle would be. Its solution was entirely hidden until after she had spoken. It may be further remarked that the survey of such a paper as the present one is limited. The new century will cover the whole globe. Probably countries which can hardly now be said to have any "so- ciety" will develop one, and each its own. But it is impossible to predict what particular problems Christianity will have to grapple NEW PROBLEMS OF CHRISTIANITY. 3 ■with in societies which are yet to be. Even if we restrict ourselves to actually existing social conditions it is evident that the problems to be met in modern Italy are totally different from those in Aus- tralia, and that those in the regions of the Evangelical Church in Bohemia are not at all like those in the United States. To deal with the social conditions of the whole globe and the distinct prob- lems which Christianity and its pulpit are likely to encounter in each during the impending century would require the study of a life- time, and would be to write not a paper but a volume. These three limiting conditions must control the course of the present discussion. Perhaps it ought to be added that, on the very terms of the topic, satisfactory and full solutions are not to be ex- pected. A solved problem is no longer a problem. The problems which confront the new century are largely those of form. Human nature is the same in every age. Revelation has ceased for the present, at least in that aspect of it in which "men spake from God, being borne along by the Holy Ghost." No voice since that of St. John fell silent at Ephesus has spoken with the self-evidencing authority of those others to which Christendom has so long bent unquestioning. Accordingly, so far as can be now foreseen, there is no forthputting of new material to be expected. We are left to readjust our conceptions of the old and to modify that which is on hand rather than to invent new. Neither David nor the Sibyl testifies in these days to anything absolutely hitherto unknown. It is not, therefore, to be expected that the questions which are to arise as we go onward should be entirely novel, but that they should be rather problems of the forms with which, and in which, the Christianity of the twentieth century appears likely to be required to meet the new forms of opposition and the exigencies of the approach- ing days. These new problems of Christianity and its pulpit in modern society seems to be of its form of application to that society itself — to worship, and to doctrine. To their consideration we now turn. I. The problem first to be studied, then, is that which relates to Society itself as an organism. With what is technically called so- ciology and socialistic questions the present paper is not especially called to deal, because they are handled by another writer in this series of papers. In that more exact sense, no doubt, the "Housing of the Poor," and "Capital and Labor," are two problems which press most heavily on the heart and conscience of awakened Christendom 4 CHKISTENDOM. in general. These are essentially modern. In the days of serfdom no one cared, not even the serf, about the rights of labor, and no one was comfortably housed, not even the mediaeval baron. But now, before society — not in the limited sense of the rich and cultured, but in the wider and nobler sense of the brotherhood of man — can rest in comfort and satisfaction, those great problems must be settled finally and rightly. Somehow the Golden Eule will settle it for both ; but we shall have to wrestle with it far on into the new century to all appearance. It is not yet a solution : it is a problem. But turning from these aspects of the question as having been discussed elsewhere in this series of "Timely Papers," there are other and perhaps even wider problems which Christianity has to meet be- fore the year A. D. 2001 shall dawn. As an example of one whole class of these we may cite the mission problem. "We start out in the twentieth century with new conceptions of the Brotherhood of Man. It is quite true that these conceptions lie implicitly, or even more than implied, in the Christian Scriptures. The opening words of the "Lord's Prayer" have the whole idea folded compactly in them, ready to unfold until it fills the whole earth. But never has the duty and enthusiasm of missions been so widely recognized or the sense of human brotherhood as compelling to missionary effort been so greatly felt. The late great Ecumenical Conference on Missions, held in the city of New York, in 1900, is a signal testimony to that fact. A century ago such a conference would have been literally impossible; but the very progress and triumph of missions has brought us face to face with new problems which the new century must at least try to solve. How long are we to keep converts from heathenism in leading- strings? It is an exceedingly dithcult question to decide. When the Apostles and apostolic men went forth on their early mission er- rands, as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, they seem to have labored a few weeks, or at most months, in a given city, and then passed on. This was true not only in towns where they preached among Jews who had some previous training in revealed religion, but also in those where, after they had "turned to the Gentiles,'' the community was wholly heathen. As they left they "ordained elders in every city," and with only an occasional re-visit to "confirm the churches," or a rare epistle, they were left to their own devices. No missionary residences were built ; no colleges or academies founded; no hospitals were provided — other than "the handkercliiefs and NEW PROBLEMS OF CHRISTIANITY. 5 aprons from Ms body" by which St. Paul seems to have done some healing work. Everybody knows what form our modern mission work has taken and how unlike it is to the primitive method of church-planting. No doubt our way was the best for the last cen- tury; was necessitated by the conditions, and has justified itself by its success a hundred times over. But now, when the work proceeds essentially in heathen lands, as it does in those already Christian, is it not possible that the impetus of the nineteenth century has spent its useful force? It does not follow that we are to revert to first century methods : judging by analogy we are not. But may it not be that the twentieth calls, or will call, for a new method? If it does and the question is put. What shall it be? one can only say, "The twentieth century must solve it !" There are other problems connected with missions over which thoughtful men are puzzling, but they must be dropped here to pass on to speak of some quite other ones which are likely to press on the practical religious life. II. The shapers of the forms of Christianity for the coming cen- tury and the modern church pulpit have at least three pressing and imminent problems to solve. Perhaps all might be reduced to the one immeasurable problem of counteracting the indifference which pre- vails at the opening of the new epoch. ^Vhen Christianity began it had to contend with violent physical opposition. Even in the book of the Acts there are signs of persecution beginning to set its knees on the new religion to break its ribs by violence. Not only at Jeru- salem, where, as the headquarters of Jewish prejudice and wrong judgment, bigoted cruelty might have been expected, but also abroad in heathen but civilized cities, Paul and Silas and Barnabas woke by their evangelical preaching a storm of bitter and active opposi- tion. Under Nero, Trajan, Decius and Diocletian the violence cul- minated in the "great persecutions" wide as the Rorrian Empire. The second great era of opposition was that of "Free Thought," the age of the infidels, the era of spiritual opposition. The press poured forth a black flood of literature scoffing at the ideas which genera- tions of Christians had found most grave and venerable. Those were the two eras of active opposition. In these days all that vio- lence, physical and intellectual, has subsided like retiring floods, and the opposition which, confronts the Church of God to-day is that of indifference. Men do not care for, have no interest in, religious things. They no longer blaspheme the name of the Christ and fling 6 CHRISTENDOM. filth at Christians. They just go their ways as if there were no Christ. We sonjetimes sadly say that the church has lost its grip on the masses; we might more truly say that the masses have let go their grip on the church! But let us look a little more in detail at the conditions which it is our problem to overcome. Perhaps we might legitimately put the re-setting of the Bible as the first problem of the Christianity of the twentieth century. That Book has never been so studied as in the closing years of the nineteenth century, but it has been studied in a peculiar way. This is not the place to discuss the question of the higher criticism, nor is it much to the present purpose whether its pending views are to be permanent conclusions or not. Without at all touching on that aspect of the matter there can be no doubt that the study lately bestowed on the Scriptures has either loosened the popular faith in them as the final and indisputable Word of God, or else has made the study of them principally a critical exercise. It is easy to see why this is so; but no one mixing with his fellow men throughout Christendom can fail to see that the result has been that the general feeling is that there is no standard of absolute authority in either doctrine or social ethics whose word is accepted as the end of con- troversy. No doubt this state of things wiU right itself in time. The Christian mind will re-adJust itself to such new decisions about the outward form of revelation as shall ultimately be fixed beyond dispute and transferred conclusively from hypothesis to fact. Many things now in suspense as between the old and new views will settle back on the old foundations when once the rocking of the passing wind is over. Meantime the problem of the new century will be to secure a deeper study of the Word than that which has agitated the old one ; to induce a spiritual treatment of the great Book as soon as the critical treatment of it is settled so as to stay settled. Somehow the new era must manage it or the Bible will be gone as a force making for Christian living. It needs no prophet to say how disas- trous to all earnest and Christ-like religious conditions it would be to have the race virtually without a line from its Father in Heaven. The next point to be noted relates to the new problems of wor- ship. There are two elements to be considered, viz., the Day of NEW PKOBLEMS OF CHRISTIANITY. 7 worship, and Worship itself; the latter falling apart into two sub- divisions. First comes the Sunday problem. Historically, the observance of the Lord's Day among Jewish Christian converts began, no doubt, as a voluntary addition to the Sabbath. The latter, received from Moses, was still considered binding on the ancient covenant people, even if they had become disciples of Jesus the Jew. For His sake they added to the faithful observance of the seventh that of the first day of the week in memorial of His resurrection. Among heathen Christian converts the Lord's Day was the only sacred day, of course, but it was wholly voluntary as among the Jewish ones. In the next stage its observance became a sort of badge of Christian discipleship, and popular sentiment soon made it virtually obligatory on all who professed to walk in "the way." Then came Constantine, with his enlargement of Christian obligation along civil and governmental lines, and Sunday observance became a civil as well as religious law. The mixture of the two sentiments by medieval times, and indeed long before, made the observance of the day both enforced and formal. The Reformation, with its new and deeper spiritual impulse, made its subjects eager for the religious opportunities of the Lord's Day, emphasizing Sunday observance as a privilege. In Great Britain, for reasons so familiar that they need not be recounted here, the Puritan Sabbath came in with its stringencies, voluntary at first, but soon made obligatory when Puritanism had the power. Even after Puritanism had lost its initial force as a spiritual move- ment, ingrained habit stamped deeply into the consciences of the communities where it had once held undisputed sway the custom of the outward observance of the Lord's Day. Long after the laws on the matter ceased to be enforced, it was not quite respectable not to go to church. That feeling has about disappeared. The old Sabbath has gone. Multitudes of men and women have no conscience about it any longer. It is not simply the abandoned, heaven-defying old "Sab- bath breaker" of the Sunday-school library books of a generation or two ago, but it is respectable, decent, moral people who now de- liberately arrange to travel on Sunday trains to save business time; who throng the Sunday roads with automobiles and bicycles; who give dinner parties and play golf on the first day of the week with- out a prick of their consciences. Not long since the summons of a cycle club to a "run" on Sunday, in an American city, brought 8 CHEISTENDOM. together by actual count seven hundred wheelmen. How many con- gregations of that number assembled in the churches of the town that day? And yet God's Fourth Commandment has never been revoked any more than any of the other nine of the Decalogue. We need not sigh over the vanishing of the Puritan Sabbath ; there is no passage of the Scripture which ever enjoined it. But God's Word does put a difference between His Day and ours. How are we going to get the Fourth Commandment on its feet again? lliat is a problem the new century must not only grapple with but solve, or the curse solemnly pronounced on the wilful desecrators of the day which God has "hallowed" will fall on those nations which will not "reverence My Sabbaths." It is too early in the century to say how the end shall be gained and the solution wrought safely out. All that can be done now is to blow a solemn trumpet of alarm. Turning next to consider the new problems of worship, we come first on that of family religion. There is a solemn doom pronounced in the Bible on "the families which call not on My Name." There are certainly few families left who do it in the old-fashioned way. The "family altar," as the elder religionists used to call it, has been rent in two like that of Jeroboam, and its ashes poured out to grow cold. Of course it can be accounted for. Modern life, with its haste and drive, its thou- sand new interests, shortens the available time in a way of which our more leisurely fathers never dreamed. The old opportunities and facilities for parental religious instruction, for the assembling of the household around the parental priest, are all gone. It does not seem as if they ever could return. It was a beautiful observ- ance in its day. Men who made no religious profession, like Burns in his "Cotter's Saturday Night," felt the charm. Long after the voice of the parent-priest was silent in death, the children grown to maturity testified to the beneficent effect of family worship. But while the present pace keeps up and even augments, with the old habit thoroughly broken up and the old facility of immemorial prac- tice gone, how can it be reinstated ? Yet something must be done to replace it, or individual religion will perish with that of the family. Some new form must be found into which the old life can be poured or it will perish from the earth. With that problem, too, the twen- tieth century must grapple and solve it as the condition of its spiri- tual life. NEW PROBLEMS OF CHRISTIANITY. 9 But turn again from that to public worship. All over Christen- dom, with few exceptions, the nineteenth century has seen a notable diminution of attendance on public worship. Few churches are Thronged at any time, and the '"second service" has become the de- spair of most pastors. For a while the latter service may be filled up by special music, or sensational topics of discourse, or by the magic lantern. Yet not only do these things soon lose their power to draw a crowd, but even while their attraction lasts it is the gravest of questions whether any real spiritual benefit or upbuilding in con- secration and depth of spiritual life accrues. So the problem challenges the new century, and asks what it will do about it. If Christ's own people have lost their interest in the "assembling of themselves together,'^ it can hardly be expected that those who are not in covenant will attend. Add to it all the facts that outside of the ranks of professing Christians the vast majority of the people hold an attitude of absolute and unfeigned indiffer- ence, and yet that by virtue of living in Christian lands they are sufficiently instructed in religious truths for them to hrfve lost all their novelty, and how prodigious is the problem for which Chris- tianity and its pulpit in the twentieth century have to find a solu- tion. One does not have to search far to account for this prevalent in- difference. Life is harder than it was, and people are fagged and wearied. They crave either rest or excitement — mostly the latter. In former times the pulpit was the lyceum and university of the masses. It refreshed the latter to come in contact with a trained mind dealing with topics on which they might stretch themselves for intellectual as well as spiritual gymnastics as they eagerly list- ened. Nowadays books, newspapers, periodicals, these keep men overwhelmed with new facts and intellectual interest. Besides all this, the age is material, and things which are spiritual are remote from their "hearts and bosoms." Perhaps, too, in explaining the neglect of the "second service," we may note that men weary of monotony. Te repeat the morning's process at night is unattractive. Breakfast is good, but who wants two breakfasts exactly alike in one day ? This much, however, we may say toward the solution : God does not intend that the church of His dear Son shall run out by self-limita- tion. He has said that the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it. The church is not to grow less and less effective and efficient, and 10 CHRISTENDOM. run down like an electric lamp whose battery has polarized. Never- theless, the details of its operation He has assigned to His co-laborers on the earth. The new century must find out for itself what to do. That is its problem. Shall it be by some widespread outpouring of the Holy Spirit ? Shall it be by the personal work of each pres- ent Christian taking the careless by the hand and "compelling him to come in" by sympathetic love for his soul? Shall it be by throwing away entirely our present time-worn forms of public wor- ship, and initiating a wholly new departure? Or is it to be along lines now utterly unthought of, but which the twentieth century shall reveal? The twentieth century will have to answer. But one thing is sure : It will be the form and not the essence of worship which will change, if there is to be change at all. There remains still another problem which will have to be solved, and which must be discussed here with only a few closing words. It is that of doctrine. Here, too, one may safely venture to predict that it is going to be a change of form rather than of content. It was Carlyle who spoke of the changes of views of religious truth as the laying aside of worn-out garments. "Hebrew old clothes," he called the system which gave place to Cliristianity, and he thought the latter — as the nineteenth century knew it — was already mostly rags soon to be discarded for brand new outfits of Christian doctrine. Most of us do not agree with him, but certainly there has been much in the religious discussions of the later years of the vanished century which has looked as if Confession and Creeds might soon be either in the waste-basket or the fire. But discussions never alter truth. Glass is hard, but it scratches no diamonds. When John Eobinson, speaking to the Pilgrims as they started from Leyden for Cape Cod, said that he had no doubt "there would be more light breaking from God's Word," he was not saying, as he has too often been interpreted as saying, that new truth obliterating the old, or new facts at variance with older ones, would be discovered. He meant only that which he actually said, namely, that new light would break, and at that not from new re- velations, but from and on the old, well-searched Word. There are no new doctrines or new facts or new revelations lying perdue there. The content of dogmatic revelation will not ever change. Even if new books shall be added to the sacred canon — of which there is no NEW PEOBLEMS OF CHRISTIANITY. 11 sign either from within or from witliout the volume at present — no contradictory or annulling doctrine can be introduced. But that is not to say that the form of the now familiar truth may not be modified. The new century may find that dogmas which fallible theologians have deduced from Scripture by fallible logic may have to be dropped entirely. At all events, "the Word of God standeth sure," and has His seal. No doctrine unmistakably set down therein will grow obsolete. Yet men do grow. They grow wiser and broader and more mel- low. So do generations. It is quite within the range of possibility that before the twenty-first century begins to dawn on the then dark- ening eastern sky of the twentieth, a new light may rise. It will- be the task of the twentieth before it passes on to "prove all things, to hold fast that which is good." If the doctrines and dogmas of Christianity have to be modified, as some predict, it will be the solemn duty of the now new century to change the form, and hold fast the substance of the teachings of the Holy Spirit. It is too soon to say what changes may be necessary, or even that any will be. If the latter, it is equally too early to suggest what shape they ought to take ; above all, what shape they will take. But of one thing we who are not to survive the new era may be sure as we lie down to rest and wait with Daniel — the twentieth century will not itself go down with its setting sun looking out on the wrecks of truths on which God's saints have stood to fight His battles, and on which they have pillowed their dying heads in every age. XJzzah will have no need to steady the Ark. SOME GAINS OF CHRISTIANITY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. President John Henry Barrows, D.D., OBERLIN. Christianity means, in the treatment given by this essay, the interpretation and realization by Christendom of the teaching of Jesus Christ. There has been progress during the last hundred years along many lines — theological, ecclesiastical and practical. The Christendom of to-day is a larger and completer realization of the spirit and doctrine of Jesus Christ than was the Christendom of the year 1801, when the century began. This will be apparent to all minds not blinded by theories of the world's increasing degen- eracy. It is not claimed that the church is approaching perfection, or that, in every particular, Christendom has advanced a long step during the last ten decades. Still, a comprehensive survey of the changes of the century will reveal the fact that Christianity has made notable gains. The Christian Church, taken as a whole, is more aggressive in its effort to reach all men with the heavenly Gospel ; it is more gen- erally imbued with the missionary spirit, which is the essential Christian spirit. It may be that we have only played at missions in the last hundred years, but it has been the most inspiring and benefi- cent play which the race has ever seen. In America the domain of a Christian civilization has been expanded to a continental area. Many savage tribes have been evangelized. The Bible has been dis- tributed by hundreds of thousands of copies in Mexican, Central American and South American lands. At the beginning of the cen- tury the entire slave population of the South was excluded from a reading knowledge of the Scriptures. At the beginning of the cen- tury only a small beginning had been made in what is now the world-wide movement of Christian evangelism. Church after church has been enlisted in the Foreign Missionary Crusade. Mil- lions of dollars are now annually contributed for that cause, which Dr. Wayland pronounced "the sublimest that ever awakened the 12 GAINS OF CHRISTIANITY. 13 hopes and called forth the moral energies of mankind." The Young Men's Christian Associations, the societies of like spirit for young women, the great Christian Endeavor movement, and the Student Volunteer movement, are imbued with missionary enthusiasm, and probably fifty persons stand ready to-day to undertake service in non-Christian lands where one could be found at the beginning of the century. In the churches of Great Britain, Germany, Switzer- land, Scandinavia and France there has been growing, to large pro- portions in some cases, a sense of responsibility to the unevangelized world. Christendom to-day is more cosmopolitan than ever before. Our religion for the first time presents the aspect of a world-wide faith, and this is due to the out-reaching efforts which have sprung from missionary zeal. No one can return from a careful inspection of the moral and spiritual conditions of the great continents without a new convic- tion that Christianity is an aggressive and elevating force in every part of the world. Japan owes the beginning of her industrial, com- mercial, political and moral regeneration to Christian influences, and Japan is likely to be one of the dominant Christian forces of Asia. Korea is passing through a similar transformation. The Chinese Empire is rapidly being leavened with influences of Chris- tian origin, and the advent of America into the Orient as an Asiatic power means much more for the future enlightenment and uplifting of the greatest of the continents. The Pacific Ocean, which is to dom- inate the future of the world, is surrounded and crossed by Chris- tian forces. It is something to have made a difficult, magnificent, historical beginning. No other religion presents any such world- wide aspect to-day as Christianity. The nineteenth century made the cosmopolitanism of the Christian Gospel apparent to the leading minds of all nations. On every shore to-day Christianity is a vital and progressive force. The world has been made ready through in- ternational communication, through a friendlier feeling toward Christians, through a new knowledge, which discriminates between a true and a false Christianity, through a better understanding of the living spirit of the time — for a universal faith. Parallel with this out-reaching activity, which has marked the hundred years now past, has been an in-reaching effort to get closer to the heart of Christianity. There was large dissatisfaction at the beginning of the century with many of the forms and statements of the historic churches. This dissatisfaction has increased in a meas- 14 CHRISTENDOM. ure. Theological controversy and the coming in of new light hare not only led to skepticism, but have also led to more careful study of the sources of Christianity. The result has been a return to Christ. Never before have there been so many means of getting truly acquainted with the Founder of Christianity. The lives of Jesus Christ belong, almost all of them, to the present century. The study of manuscripts of ancient contemporary history, and of that fifth Gospel, the Holy Land itself, has thrown a dazzling light upon the person of Jesus Christ, making the Gospel records more living and luminous. It may be truly said of the latter part of our cen- tury that it has lived with Jesus of Nazareth. In some respects we knew Him better than did His early followers. There is a grow- ing conviction that He is God's last and best manifestation of Him- self ; that in His light we see light for all the chief problems of hu- man existence; that knowing Him we know Christianity; that He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. It is inevitable that the Bible should be better understood than it was a hundred years ago. No other book has received such pro- longed and such profound investigation. It has been attacked as untrustworthy and even as immoral. Science has been arrayed against it, but the period when controversy over its claims has been sharpest has been the period when its true Divinity has become most apparent. To-day it is not only not outgrown or obsolescent, but it is a force of Divine life more penetrating and pervasive than ever before. When understood as the ripest Christian scholarship of to- day understands it, the Bible is not exposed to many of the ob- jections which skepticism has made. It is seen to be the spiritual literature of a Divinely guided people, which has come to us under a variety of forms, expressed in language which can be translated into all languages, universal in its adaptations and permanent in its influence, because it is a book of dynamics, a literature of life speak- ing through object-lessons to the deepest needs of the human soul. Its comparison with Sacred Books of other nations simply reveals the supremacy and sufficiency, the uniqueness and authority of that revelation which came to Israel and was completed in Jesus Christ. Another gain of Christianity in the century, springing veiy large- ly out of the return to Jesus Christ, has been the discovery of Chris- tians that He binds tliem together in spiritual fellowship. Chris- tianity has been found to be larger than any creed or church, be- cause it is id(!ntical with Him who is the fullness of knowledge, of GAINS OF CHRISTIANITY. 15 light and of love. Churches which have been kept apart by the memory of old-time divisions, by masses of ecclesiastical and theo- logical rubbish, by an unintelligent conservatism, ill-founded fears and a lack of brotherliness, have been drawing closer together. They have been educated in those higher truths, living by which men^ are caring less and less for minor distinctions. At the beginning of the century how far apart, in America and Great Britain, were the various churches, how strong was the antipathy of churchmen and nonconformists, of Congregationalists and Methodists, and how wide was the antagonism between Protestants and Catholics ! The chasms have not been filled up, but they have been here and there bridged over. Among Protestant churches, to a hopeful degree, the noises of discord are being drowned in the notes of concord. The centrifugal forces which have wrought a good work are dying down and giving way to centripetal forces. One may discover no single church on the face of the earth to which all disciples acknowledge allegiance, but there is a rapidly increasing unity in Jesus Christ. When Dean Stanley was a young student at Oxford, he walked one day with another student, a High Churchman, and passed by a Dis- senting Chapel. Seeing it, his High Church friend said: "How could it have been built here? I wonder that they did not pull it down long ago." The Christians of to-day who are anxious to have the churches of other forms and faiths pulled down are not alarmingly numerous. In some communities they will soon be so few as to seem like curiosities. Most thinking men have come to realize that tolerance is a word representing an imperfect spirit in regard to the rights of the hu- man mind. Governments which may tolerate, would seem to reserve the right to persecute. "The most despotic governments are toler- ant toward the subjects who are too numerous or too useful to be killed or exiled." But toleration is a stepping-stone to liberty. No sensible man, acquainted with the facts, can fail to realize that the - wide growth of toleration is one of the most important facts of the century. Wherever we look, whether to Eussia or to Italy, to Ger- many or South Africa, to Great Britain or China, to France or Austria, we behold the area of toleration, and hence of religious liberty, widening. In the German Empire the progress of tolera- tion has been conspicuous, so that, according to Dr. Schaff, the great Teutonic realm "is committed to the principles of religious liberty and equality as much as the United States, and can as little inter- 16 CHRISTENDOM. fere with religious convictions and the exercise of public worship, or deny to any citizen his civil and political rights on account of his religious opinions." In Austria the history of religious progress, beginning in 1848, culminates with the law of 18G8, which granted full liberty of re- ligion, but a liberty limited to the churches recognized by the Gov- ernment. Whether that freedom is enjoyed or not depends largely upon the sentiment of local authorities. Toleration and freedom have still other victories to be won in Austria. In Italy the Wal- denses were emancipated in that year, 1848, which marks a new era of religious progress throughout Europe. The constitutions granted at that memorable epoch guaranteed the free exercise of divine wor- ship. Since 1870 the Free Italian churches and many others have sprung into life, and a new leaven is working for the emancipation of the Italian mind. In Spain religious liberty dates its feeble be- ginnings from 1869. Concessions are neutralized by certain restric- tions, for the constitution of 1876 limits the liberty of those who are not Catholics to worship in private houses. Switzerland comes nearest to America in religious freedom. In France the Catholic, Protestant and Jewish churches have been placed on a level before the law. The right of assembly and teaching is legally unques- tioned, and the Protestant missionaries are able to go everywhere in France and carry on their zealous propagandism. Professor Bonet-Maury sums up his history with the statements that, "Since the Edict of Toleration of Louis XVI, in spite of some offensive returns to the gloomy idea of religion in the state, the spirit of tolerance, or better, of respect for liberty of conscience, has grown." "Violent procedures by civil powers against individuals or societies on account of their philosophical or religious beliefs have become more and more rare." In Holland and Scandinavia, even with church establishments, perfect religious equality is enjoyed. And by the treaty of Berlin, 1878, the Sultan's Government was forced to this position, that in no part of the Ottoman Empire shall differences of religion be al- leged against any person as a ground for exclusion or incapacity as regards the discharge of civil and political rights, admission to the public employments, functions and honors, or the exercise of the various professions and industries. The British Empire — I am now speaking of what lies beyond the British Islands — is the widest domain of tolerance on which the sun GAINS OF CHEISTIANITY. 17 shines. That empire has been called "the hiigest outstanding parlia- ment of religions now existing in the world." In Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, the Dominion of Canada and throughout the broad and populous peninsula of India, full liberty of conscience and all the rights of spiritual freedom are enjoyed. When we look at England itself, we are compelled to remember that her great act of religious freedom is the Act of Toleration of 1689, and that this was not an edict of liberty. Englishmen at that time did not believe in religious freedom. But inevitably that Act of Toleration led to a large enjoyment of the rights of conscience, and during our cen- tury its benefits have been extended to Unitarians, Catholics and Jews. The disestablishment of the Church of England in Ireland was a great step in the right direction, and with the surely coming disestablishment of the church in Scotland, Wales and England, the area of liberty will be enlarged. The idea of toleration has been enlarged by the official action of China in granting to the different European nations the right of sending Christian missionaries, not only to the port cities, but to the interior of that vast empire. The Chinese Government has given repeated assurance of its belief that the doctrines of Christianity and the practice of them were for good. The recent fanatical up- rising of those who hate all foreign influences will not permanently diminish the area of religious liberty in the Far East. No sensible man believes that the Christian nations will permit any abrogation of rights guaranteed by international treaty. In Mexico religious toleration is a part of the new life of that prosperous republic ; even in priest-ridden South America, the rights of non-Catholic citizens have received new guarantees, or have been acknowledged for the first time — in Ecuador, Bolivia, Peru and elsewhere. America is the great home, not so much of toleration as of true liberty. In the United States the Government has no authority to interfere with religion. The fullest liberty is possible only where the church and state separate. From the beginning of our organ- ized national life this separation has prevailed and been the funda- mental law and practice of our country. Here the Jews have had freedom, and have been treated with a friendliness never elsewhere shown them. America is the standing reply to those who believe that religion needs the support and guidance of the state. Chris- tian progress in our country has been more rapid than the progress of the population, and it is as true to-day as when De Tocqueville 18 CHRISTENDOM. wrote that : "There is no country in the whole world in which the Christian religion retains a greater influence over the souls of men than in America." When complete religious liberty exists, toleration becomes not a legal but a mental and moral condition. It is a state of mind, and the most remarkable advance has been in the kindlier feelings be- tween men of various faiths and various divisions of the same faith. James Grant Allen, in his "Eeign of Law/' recalls the time in the last century when Christians used to throw live snakes into the assemblies of other Christians of whom they disapproved. Snake- throwing has disappeared. Occasional acts of intolerance occur, but they are opposed to the almost universal sentiment of the coun- try. Bigotry, or the worship of one's own opinions, is giving way to charity. Pulpits are exchanged to-day by representatives of va- rious denominations. Eighty years ago such interchange was scarce- ly known. The Unitarians have accomplished a large work for the spirit of true tolerance. Men who are pronounced in their church preferences are pleading with more earnestness for the co-opera- tion of denominations. Church comity is coming to be a fact. Men are seeing that Presbyterianism, for example, is much smaller than Christianity ; that Congregationalism is not the Holy Catholic Church. With Christian large-mindedness we are learning to love the virtues and achievements of other denominations. The next great step of progress will resemble the political change which came over our country when the colonies having common interests became federated. Federation precedes either unification, or wide and gen- erous co-operation in many things. Those who have contributed to the world's progress in religious liberty during the century now closing are a noble army, working in various ways and in different lands. He who writes the story of the century in this realm of progress must tell of James Madison, the chief advocate of the first amendment to the constitution, declar- ing that "Congress shall make no law respecting any establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." He must tell of the work of Channing, Theodore Parker, Emerson, Lyman Beecher, Phillips Brooks, Charles A. Briggs, Francis E. Clark and John Henry Vincent. The historian will not forget Max Miiller, and his great work for comparative religion, and the humanizing of the churches in their attitude toward non-Christian faiths. He will tell of what Gladstone, Macaulay, Tennyson and Dean Stanley GAINS OF CHRISTIANITY. 19 wrought in England for the enlargement of mental freedom. Com- ing to France, he will speak of Madame de Stael, Guizot, Athanase Coquerel and Jules Simon. He will not forget John Frederick Oberlin, the model pastor, the friend of Catholics and Jews, and the champion of love as greater than zeal. Probably in no other country than America could such a Congress of Religions have been held as that which was the crowning feature of the Columbian Fair. By that remarkable gathering the bounds of brotherhood and of true toleration were enlarged. Catholics and Protestants for the first time, in a great assembly, sat together for seventeen days in the spirit of fraternity and kindliness. The rep- resentatives of the great non-Christian faiths were treated with per- fect courtes}", and illustrated the spirit of courtesy themselves. Many Christians learned a new lesson, following the teachings of Sir Monier Williams, not to shut their eyes to any truth or virtue which may be found in non-Christian characters and non-Christian writings. Mr. Mozoonidar has recently written with great apprecia- tion that the attitude of Christian missionaries toward Hindoo prophets and Hindoo faiths shows less and less of the old-time po- lemic intolerance. It may take generations before the other peoples reach the height which America reached in 1893, but no one doubts that such a height, which now looks lonely, will yet become a table- land on which the nations of the earth will assemble. One of the gains which has come from a truer knowledge of Christ, and hence of Christianity, has been a better understanding of the true church. It must be both high and low and broad. It is high enough to meet what is loftiest in man ; low enough to reach down with helping hands to all the burdened and suffering, and broad enough to include cW the disciples of Christ. It loves and venerates every manifestation of truth and righteousness. It in- cludes in its affection every devout layman, artist, singer, reformer, seer and humble servant of Jesus Christ. It is a church in which there is room for every style and form of ordinance which the in- dividual may prefer. It has room for the various theories of man's origin. It is a church where the intellect and heart are not set over against each other. It is a temple not only of larger liberty and larger truth, but of closer fellowship and greater outwardly mani- fested unity. There has been a simplification of theology ; that is, its reduction, so far as co-operation is concerned, to the common denominator of m CHRISTENDOM. all evangelical Christians. When asked their beliefs men are more apt to say that they believe in Jesus Christ, in what He was, in what He said, in what He taught. Resulting from this is the more earn- est co-operation of believers in the greatest work which Jesus gave to His followers; namely, the evangelization of the world. A lead- ing denominational paper of our country has recently made the edi- torial confession that there was a time when the writer was slow both to recognize and to report the excellences and good deeds of other denominations. It may be tinily said that there was a time when many Christians shut out of their minds thoughts of what other churches were doing for Christ, lest thereby they should become less zealous for their own sect. How the field of loving thought and fraternal fellowship has been widened during this century, and how many are happy in feeling that Baptist piety, Methodist piety, An- glican, Presbyterian, Lutheran, Armenian, Greek and Roman Cath- olic piety are not only praiseworthy, but are a part of our spiritual riches ! Perhaps this is, after all, the greatest gain of the century — the drawing together of Christian hearts about the person and work of the historical Christ, about His cross and broken tomb. The century of Christian history in America has brought the va- rious Protestant churches somewhat close to the position which the American colonies occupied at the close of the Revolution. In those colonies there was much of individual liberty; they could choose their own magistrates and governors, and frame their own laws. There was also much local pride, and there was also a degree of jeal- ousy. Furthermore, there was a consciousness of national weakness. This became a burden to the great heart of Washington. Finally, under his guidance and the pressure of necessity, the Constitution was adopted. The thirteen colonies became a nation. The adop- tion of the Constitution did not destroy differences, it did not abridge liberties, but it did make America. Under the guidance of Washington and Hamilton, what was disintegration and weakness was transformed into unity and power. We have in this historical example the key to the changes which have taken place in the church. Broken into fragments, while it has been able to work wonders, it has not accomplished its full mission. Through co-operation and through such a measure of organization as may be needed, the church will begin its grander life. The changes already wrought in the temper and convictions of Christians are such as to presage a mar- velous degree of unity. There are few events of the nineteenth cen- GAINS OF CHRISTIANITY. n tury more significant than tliis drawing together of the disciples of Jesus Christ. Christians of various names and peoples are coming, with increasing joy in the unity of the faith, into nobler convictions and to ampler service. The gains of Christianity in the nineteenth century have been so large and vital as to prophesy for the twentieth century the unification of Christendom and the evangelization of the world. Whether there have been losses as well as gains in the Christian history of the last hundred years is a question which deserves a passing notice. Religion as a preparation for the eternal life is not to-day so pressing and solemn a question as it was a hundred years ago ; that is, with those who believe in religion. But faith in the supernatural has a wider domain at the present hour than it had at the beginning of the last century. Skepticism is not so prev- alent in the colleges and among educated people. It may be said that religious men arc not so intensely religious as they were a hun- dred years ago, but this seems to be true largely because religion is more diffused, covering a larger area of human life at the present time. Christian men are sincerely anxious to-day that the prin- ciples of the Gospel shall be applied to modern social conditions, and, as Bishop Potter has said, there has been a "growth of candor as to the defects of present systems of ecclesiastical life and work." The last century has been one during which a great variety of noble and mighty efforts have been tried. Some of the evangelistic meth- ods of Finney and Moody may not be repeated in the coming century with similar results to those of the past ; but the church is getting ready for a new and wiser, a wider evangelism ; the social conscience has been touched and quickened by the words of Ruskin and Wendell Phillips, and by the lives and teachings of those who are giving their strength to Christian social settlements. Christianity has identified itself with the temperance reform, and with the work of municipal reform. The century has been largely one of experimentation. All sorts of panaceas have been proposed and tried. Many promising efforts outside of the church have proved themselves futile, and, therefore, a chief gain of Christianity has been the acknowledgment by many social reformers and scientists, and even by non-Christian thinkers, of the necessity of such a scheme of spiritual teaching and power as that represented by the Christian Gospel. The adequacy of a true Christianity, rightly applied, to meet all the individual and social 22 CHRISTENDOM. needs of humanity, has been proved in the nineteenth century as in no other. Two of the hopeful tendencies of recent times may be mentioned as among the Christian gains of the century. One is the acknowledgment of leading educators in our colleges and universities that Christianity is a vital force needed in the shaping and perfect- ing of human character. The insufficiency of an intellectual training for the fashioning of manhood and womanhood is very gen- erally conceded. The other hopeful tendency, which I deem perhaps the chief gain of the century, is the disposition of the Christian Church to take a world-view of all problems. We are getting to the view-point of Jesus Christ Himself, in whom there was nothing local or limited. Christianity is a world-religion, and Christ is not lifted up anywhere in the fullness of His purpose and power until, as one has said, he has been lifted up everywhere. The missionary enthusiasm which burns in the hearts of so many men and women in Christian lands may not always fully understand itself, but it is a prophecy of a world-conquest, the beginnings of which lie very large- ly in the century now closed. The insufficiency of all other religious has become apparent by the discussions and contacts of the last hun- dred years. The non-Christian faiths have been stirred by the col- lision of Christianity with them. Some of them are absorbing Christian truths and claiming them as a part of their own religions. It may be truly said, in spite of the divisions and imperfections of Christendom, that the nineteenth century has brought Christianity to the front and placed it on the mountain-top, where it shines to- day with wider and purer light than in any previous century. CONTRIBUTIONS TO RELIGIOUS THOUGHT DURING THE NINETEENTH CENTURY* George T. Purves, D.D., LL.D., NEW YORK. The twentieth century has opened with Christianity in a far more prosperous condition than it was at the beginning of the nineteenth. This is true not only in regard to its outward expansion, and the many practical applications which have been made of it in the social life of Christendom, but also in regard to its power in the realm of thought. Its right to the control of man's whole moral life is very generally admitted by philosophy and science; and this could not be if it were not recognized that religion represents a reality with which philosophy and science in some sense must deal. In fact, there is no more potent intellectual force to-day than Christianity. It cannot be and it is not neglected in any serious discussion of ques- tions pertaining to man's deepest interests. Sociology, psychology, metaphysics alike give heed to it. Books which deal with it, or into which its problems enter, are the ones most widely read. The spirit of reverence toward it characterizes the attitude of all serious minds. Even scepticism, except in a few coarse examples, commonly strives to preserve the essence of religion while rejecting its dogmas. It is no longer possible for culture to speak of it in terms of derision or contempt. Christianity has made a long advance toward the day when "Every thought" shall be brought "into captivity to the obed- ience of Christ." This result could not have been reached if the nineteenth century had not witnessed important contributions to religious thought. It has unquestionably been a century of religious revival ; and revivals, to be permanent, must affect the intelligence as well as the emotions. The past century has been a stirring one. The activity of the hu- man intellect has been very great in all departments of thought and action. Ambitious philosophies have assumed to give the final in- terpretation of the universe. Science has revolutionized our modes of thinking about Nature and life. Discoveries have illuminated 23 24 CHRISTENDOM. our views of ancient history. Society has realized with far-reaching effects the rights and limitations of the individual, the nature of the social unit, the defects of the social organism which should be recti- fied. Inventions have transformed our modes of living, brought the whole world together, modified our thoughts concerning foreign peo- ples by familiarizing us with their ideas. Amid this stir of thought religion could not but be affected. It certainly has been, and since the result has been the increased power of religion, we must believe that some contributions of real advantage have been made to relig- ious thought. It is the purpose of this paper to mention briefly some of the con- tributions which appear to the writer to have been the most im- portant. They have indeed often been abused, carried to extreme positions, allied with movements prejudicial rather than beneficial. Yet a just discrimination will recognize that they have entered wide- ly into the Christianity of the nineteenth century, and have added largely to its power. 1. In the sphere of purely religious thougbt, or of theology proper, mention should be made first of the new emphasis which has been laid on the immediateness of the Soul's relation to God in the ex- perience of Christian life. This of course has not been a new truth. It is biblical teaching. It was one of the keynotes of the Protestant Eeformation. It has been realized by devout souls in all the cen- turies. Nevertheless, it marks a notable contrast between the nine- teenth century and the preceding, so far as its recognition by phil- osophy, and its wide dissemination in popular teaching, are con- cerned. This contribution to religious thought has had, also, a complex history, has sprung from a variety of influences, and has been fol- lowed by varied consequences. It appeared in the first place as a strong reaction against the cold deism and vulgar rationalism with which the eighteenth century closed. It has been like the substitution of fire for frost in the reli- gious life; of the sense of life for the conception of a mechanical relation of God to His world. On its intellectual side its origin must doubtless be referred to the philosophical movement led by Kant, which led thought to the inspection and criticism of its own processes. The rise of the critical philosophy turned the mind in upon itself. The conditions and the possibility of all knowledge be- came the subject of investigation, with the result of creating an in- CONTEIBUTIONS TO RELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 25 tellectual scepticism which gave to the superficial rationalism of an earlier period its death-blow. But with this scepticism concerning the mind's ability to know aught beyond itself, there came, it would seem of necessity, the assertion of the worth of the affirmations of man's moral consciousness. This appears in ethics in Kant's own "Critique of the Practical Reason." In religion it appeared in Sehleiennacher's Discourses. Schleiermacher has undoubtedly been the most influential personality in the sphere of past religious thought which the century has produced. He voiced the Soul's long- ing for a direct justification of its religious consciousness amid the scepticism to which the intellect seemed doomed, and the current dissatisfaction with the church. As is well known, he found the origin and indestructible cause of religion in the universal sense of dependence. But his influence was not limited by his particular theory. He initiated a movement of the religious spirit, which took various forms and became associated with the most diverse theologi- cal views ; but which has been characterized by the assertion that re- ligion is the life of the spirit in immediate relation with God. By this affirmation of the validity of the religious consciousness, a valu- able contribution has been made to modern thought. In it many have found rest to whom sceptical objections created serious diffi- culties. The essential contribution, however, ought to be distin- guished from many of its accompaniments and developments. It ought to be maintained earnestly that the scepticism which denies the ability of the intellect to attain to that which is beyond itself, and in particular in religion to lay a rational basis for a knowledge of Divine things, is unjustifiable. The intellect can and does know transcendental truth. It cannot indeed comprehend the Divine; but it can know it. In like manner scepticism concerning the historical basis of Christianity is unjustifiable. The evidences for the his- torical reality of the Christian revelation amount to a moral demon- stration. Nevertheless, the strong affirmation which the nineteenth century has witnessed of the intrinsic validity of the religious con- sciousness, and the recognition of the Soul's own testimony to its relation to God, as given in the experience of Christian life, have formed a distinct contribution to religious thought, and have been one of the chief reasons for the admitted power of religion which, as has been said, marks the beginning of the new century. In connection with this, it is also to be noted that a new emphasis has been placed on one phase of the relation of God to the world. 26 CHRISTENDOM. This has been the Divine immanence. The very phrase itself has become almost a characteristic of modem religious thought. It sel- dom appears in the writings of the older theologians. It has in a great measure replaced the term Providence. It is not, however, synonymous with the latter. The providence of God implies His control over the finite universe, both as being superior and external to it, and as working through or with its second causes. The doc- trine of the Divine immanence conceives of God as in the creation, manifesting Himself through it, and unfolding His will and power by means of its operations. To complete the doctrine of Providence, therefore, the Divine immanence must be supplemented by that of the Divine transcendence. The emphasis, however, during the past century has been upon the former aspect. God is in the world. Its laws are the manifestation of His activity. Nature is "the life- garment of Deity." This, again, is the very opposite of the deistic idea which prevailed widely a hundred years ago. Much might be said in criticism of some of the forms in which the idea of God's immanence has been presented. It is perhaps true that it has been allied with, and in some instances has grown out of, a monotheistic and even pantheistic philosophy. Often, also, has it been emphasized so exclusively as to result in a denial of the Divine transcendence. Yet, in spite of these errors, the truth itself has been a positive gain to religious thought. It is certainly a Biblical idea. In God "we live, and move, and have our being." As Jehovah dwelt in the temple, so does He in the universe of which the temple was in one view a type. It is also a conception which accentuates, as we have seen, one side of the doctrine of Providence, and by doing so prevents the latter from being conceived in a mechanical and purely external way. While it must be admitted that the idea, when pressed to an extreme, has tended sometimes to obliterate the distinction between the natural and the supernatural; yet, when combined with a proper view of the Divine transcendence, it has given a religious value to the natural which we would not willingly lose. The world now seems to us vitalized by deity. Its laws ap- pear more than ever the expression of His will. Men feel him to be nearer than they used to do. He will never again be conceived of as a deus ex machina. He is the "universal soul" of Nature, as well as its Creator and Ruler. The life and growth of the universe, of which we are a part, is the unfolding of the purpose and power of Him who ever dwells within it. CONTRIBUTIONS TO RELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 37 Now, there is evidently a close affinity between the idea of God's immanence and that sense of the Soul's immediate relation to God of which we have spoken. It is not surprising that the two concep- tions should have appeared and moved together. They may both, as already remarked, at times have been pushed into extreme and one- sided forms, and so have served error rather than truth. But that they have affected profoundly our religious thought cannot be ques- tioned; and, when they are supplemented properly by other truth, they constitute a contribution which has supplied the corrective of other grave errors, and has made religion more vital and real to the mind of man. 2. The next contribution to be mentioned is the strong emphasis which has been placed upon the love of God. We should do gross injustice to the theologians and Biblical students of former ages if we supposed them not to have taught the love of God. But it must be confessed that often they were more concerned with His other attributes; and the strong emphasis laid to-day on God's love for the world as a whole must be reckoned a real addition to religious thought. It is also a complete statement of the teaching of revela- tion on the subject. It is difficult to say how this contribution has come about. It appears to have sprung from practical rather than from philosophical causes, and to have been a reflex product of tendencies which were themselves born of Christianity. Thus the conviction that the Gos- pel was to be given to the whole world, naturally brought the love of God to all mankind into prominence. Again, the progress made within Christendom in the realization of the humane duties of man to man, the spirit of social helpfulness thus engendered, the grow- ing conviction that Christianity is a religion of service and benevol- ence, has opened the mind to the unutterable goodness of God as He has revealed Himself. It has often happened that revelation has been reinterpreted through the effects which have been produced by it; and such seems to have been the case in this instance. We may add, also, that the attention directed to the Incarnation, with the emphasis laid on the humanity of Christ, and the perception that in His life of love the revelation of God was brought to its highest point, has added to the emphasis. But be the causes what they may, their feature has been a marked contribution to religious thought. It has become the central principle of some of the most influential theological teaching. It has transformed the preaching of the age. 28 CHRISTENDOM. It has brought forward the Fatherhood of God. It has beautified our conception of the Almighty. It has restored the integrity and proportion of the Biblical teacliing on the subject. Of course, like all great truths, it has been pushed too far, and illegitimate infer- ences have been drawn from it. It has been used to destroy the co- ordinate truth of God's justice and righteousness. It has been per- verted to the extent of denying that He will punish. It has led men to say that St. Jolin's language, "God is love," is a complete defini- tion of God, instead of a description of Him. But in spite of these errors, the emphasis placed on the intensity and breadth of the love of God has been a proclamation of tinith which Christendom needed to realize and the world to hear. The other truths of His righteous- ness and sovereignty are equally precious, and must not be let go. But His love must shine out with the lustre which Christ gave to it, and that it has been made to do so during the past century is an im- mense gain. It should be remembered also that the emphasis on the love of God has led to a more ethical conception of the revelation which He has made. This is another of the marked features of modern religious thought. Men have come to feel that metaphysical con- ceptions in the sphere of religion need at least to be clothed in the living flesh and blood of ethical reality, in order to be apprehended aright. Thus the unity of the Father, Son and Spirit is a moral unity of afl'ection and purpose, as well as a unity of substance and of attributes. So the Fatherhood of God, because He is love, has become an intense, realistic idea, endowed with all the highest beau- lies of fatherhood with none of the defects which appear among our- selves. In short, theology has been, as one has said, "ethicized." The tendency has, like the others, been pushed to injurious ex- tremes. The ethical has been in some cases substituted for the met- aphysical, thus resulting in a body without a frame. The foolish attempt has been made to deny the value of doctrinal concepts, when stated in an intellectual or logical form. Nevertheless, the stress on the ethical aspect of doctrine has been a real advance beyond the dry statements of scholasticism. It has given impressiveness and practicality to doctrine. It has made dogma seem a living reality. In particular has the love of God, the realization of which has been the chief root of the ethical reelothing of theology, brought into re- ligious thought an element which has seemed to many like a new revelation of the Gospel. CONTRIBUTIONS TO RELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 29 3. Turning next to quite a different direction, we mention the contribution to the religious thought of the century which has been made by historical criticism. This science has made for itself a special place. It has sought to ascertain, without prejudice, the actual facts of the past. It has applied its instruments of investigation to both secular and sacred history. Casting aside all prepossessions, it has endeavored to read afresh the origin of nations, societies and institutions, and to trace their developments. It has brought to the task an untiring spirit of research, and has accumulated an immense mass of information. It aims to see things in their historical connections, to trace their mutual relations, to discover the forces which generated them, and the influences under which they advanced. The result has been, in many instances, that history has been rewritten, and, of course, the new conceptions have affected the thought of the present. In the sphere of sacred history this criticism has been busily at work. It has studied afresh the origin of Christianity. The first three centuries of our era have been re-examined with the closest scrutiny. The origin of the books of the New Testament, and the rise of Christian institutions and dogmas, have been the particular objects of investigation. Apart from special results, the effect has been to create a lively sense of the historical character of Christian- ity, to show the actual circumstances of its origin, the phases of its early development, and the extraneous influences to which it was subjected. In regard to the Old Testament, likewise, a similar criti- cism has arisen. With a boldness hitherto unimagined, the whole course of Hebrew history has been revised, and the contest is still being waged between the old views and the new. It must be confessed, however, that criticism in the sphere of sacred history has not been able to escape from the control of philo- sophical prepossessions, however much it may have thrown aside dogmatic ones. It has too often been pursued under the influence of rationalism. The supernatural has been discredited and the ef- fort made to represent the history of religion as a purely natural evolution. Hence there have appeared the most diverse schools of historical criticism. In regard to the origin of Christianity, there has been the mythical school of Strauss, the "tendency" school of Baur, the "Hellenic" school of Ritschl ; while, in the sphere of Heb- rew history, Prof. Kuenen and Wellhausen have entirely overturned the Biblical narrative, and placed the ritual attributed to Moses at 30 CHRISTENDOM. the close, instead of at the beginning, of the national development of Israel. This has often been done with the open declaration that the supernatural cannot be recognized by the historian; and where the avowal has not been made, it has more frequently been assumed. Such a method is, of course, as prejudiced as that of the older dog- maticians. It really violates the canons of historical criticism. But it may be expected to cure itself. Already in the study of the Chris- tian origins the cure has begun to work. The authenticity of nearly all the books of the New Testament is now acknowledged. The the- ories of Strauss and Baur are dead. A like result may be expected in regard to much of the current criticism of the Old Testament. Out of the long debate evidence is accumulating which is sure to buttress the essential facts of the history as given in the Bible, and to sift the final result down to the underlying question of the su- pernatural itself — a question which philosophy and experience must solve. While, however, historical criticism has succumbed frequently to alien influences, its contribution to the religious thought of the cen- tury has been very valuable. Through it, for example, the Bible has become almost a new book, so fresh has been the light thrown on its original meaning and the relation of its parts. Systems of theology are no longer formed by the arbitrary selection of proof texts from any part of the inspired Word. The progressive charac- ter of revelation, as presented in the Bible, is fully recognized. The beginnings and the unfoldings of the religious and moral teachings of revelation have been carefully studied. What is known as Bibli- cal Theology has gained a place as a definite branch of theological science, and its purpose is to set forth the historical process of rev- elation. On its results theology has come to rest. The result has done much to preclude mere speculation and to obtain a fairer con- spectus of Biblical truth, even when put in the categories of a the- ological system. Meanwhile, the original signification of Biblical terms, and the relation of the parts of the Bible to one another, have been studied anew. Then, too, the historical development of Chris- tian institutions has been made more clear. The rise of forms of church government, the observance of the sacraments, the more or less alien ideas which attached themselves to the original usages of the first disciples, the influence of pagan philosophy and customs on the thought and life of the early church, have been reinvestigated. The effect has been, even when the supernaturalness of Chris- CONTRIBUTIONS TO RELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 31 tianity has been frankly accepted, to give a new sense of the his- torical movement in which the supernatural power operated. Ultra- dogmatism has thus received a severe blow. Revealed religion has been shown to be not unnatural, even though it be not a merely natural process. It came in accordance with historical needs, and under intelligible conditions. In the many books devoted to the history of Hebraic or Christian religion which have appeared during the century, we may see the profound influence of historical criti- cism on religious thought ; and it may be maintained with confidence that, in spite of the speculations which philosophy has introduced under the guise of criticism, the issue has been a great gain in the apprehension of revelation and in the conception of the Word of God. 4. Still another contribution to the religious thought of the cen- tury has been made by the progress and results of physical science. This contribution, also, has been a profound one, for it has affected our whole thought concerning the relation of God to the universe. It has, moreover, been obtained after a prolonged conflict. During the first three-fourths of the century, religion and science were in a constant attitude of hostility. It has been only of late years that peace has been in some measure secured, and the real harmony of the two widely perceived. The contribution given by science has not lain in the particular discoveries in the realm of Nature which science has made, but in the establishment of a certain view of the world and of the processes which are taking place in it. Science has observed that Nature is force under the control of fixed laws. These laws she has partly discovered and classified. She has found, also, that the forces of Nature are capable of transmutation one into another. The changes of the natural world are known, at least in most instances, to have proceeded slowly, and by the adaptation of objects, organic or inor- ganic, to new conditions. Geology has ascertained that the earth was gradually formed through vast ages into its present state. Biol- ogy has discovered a like history in the forms of living creatures. Kindred sciences have found evidences of similar processes operat- ing elsewhere. In short, the scientific conception of the universe has become that of an unloiown power, called force, or energy, evolved in accordance with ascertainable laws into the various objects and beings which now present themselves. Whether this evolution has been ever interfered with by a power from without is a mooted question. The purely scientific observer is apt to feel, indeed, that 32 CHRISTENDOM. he has no call to raise the question. It is his business simply to observe phenomena. But it must be admitted that science has not proved the spontaneous origin of lii'e, nor the development of mind from lower forms of intelligence, while at the beginning it can only posit the great First Cause. Yet in general the scientific concep- tion of the universe has obtained control of men's thoughts, and the relation of God to the world has been conceived very differently from the ideas current in former times. It is not surprising that the new conception at first should have appeared to be in entire conflict with religion. It seemed to make Nature a Godless manifestation of force. It appeared to substitute natural law for Divine control. It was in opposition to the tradi- tional interpretation of Scripture. Science often treated the re- ligious view of the world with scorn. Many scientists openly re- pudiated religion or took an agnostic attitude with regard to super- sensual truths. The conflict became the more bitter when science essayed to enter the field of human history, to reduce man to a higher form of animal, to explain the origin of his intelligence and conscience on the basis of natural development, and his subsequent history as a more extended evolution of the same kind. In course of time, however, mutual concessions have been made. On the one hand science has come to realize that it is not and can- not be an ultimate interpretation of the universe. It is only the ascertainment of observed phenomena. The ultimate nature and reason of things it cannot learn. It cannot say why the evolution should have moved upward and onward to higher goals. It con- fesses itself, at least in its best forms, in the presence of a Power which, for reasons lying beyond the discovery of science, has led the course of the world in a given direction. Many of the ablest stu- dents of Nature acknowledge that life and mind arc beyond scientific explanation. Others find the supernatural in the natural processes themselves. But the spirit of hostility has largely changed for one of reverence, and in the study of Nature the scientist finds it possi- ble to worship God. On the other hand, the scientific view of Nature has still more powerfully modified religious thought. It has been found that the old interpretation of Scripture was too crass and literal, a real mis- understanding of what Scripture meant to teach. It has been felt, also, that it is no less religious to admit that God has operated through natural laws, which He Himself impressed on the creation. CONTRIBUTIONS TO RELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 33 than to suppose that He frequently set them aside. In fact, the discoveries of science have given a larger sense of His immensity, infinitude and immanence. This need not mean that He has never set aside natural laws, and has never given fresh starting points for the life of the world. But religious thought, under the influ- ence of science, has come to reduce these exceptional acts of God to a small number. Between them it recognized God in the processes of His laws. The latter now appear more sacred and inviolable than ever. In matters of detail, likewise, the scientific influence has been great. Religious thought is less tainted with superstition than it used to be. It depends more on intelligence and less on emotion. It has observed more carefully, and in the spirit of science, its own phenomena. That it will be able to maintain the integrity of its faith and the fervor of its life in the face of science, there is no doubt. It is even certain that science will become more and more the handmaid of intelligent religion, and that the two will combine in the worship of Nature's God and of the Incarnate Creator. That science has profoundly affected already the way in which God's relation to the world is apprehended by thoughtful, religious men, and that this has already proved a benefit, can hardly be questioned. 5, We should not fail to mention in the next place the influence exerted on religious thought by the idea that Christianity is a so- cial force. The eighteenth century was extremely individualistic. Its watch- word was personal liberty. The individual asserted his rights, and revolted against tyranny in state and church. The result, however, was disorganization, making room at times for the restoration of tyranny. The nineteenth century, on the other hand, has felt the need of social reconstruction. The duty of the individual to society has claimed attention; the limitation which free society puts upon its members has been realized; the nature of the social organism itself has been studied; the socialistic tendency has replaced large- ly the individualistic; and in the study of society the place of re- ligion has been widely recognized. It has been perceived that only a religious sanction can bind so- ciety permanently into an orderly community, and redress social wrongs. Christianity, also, it has been seen, contains in itself the power of social progress. It aims to determine the relations of dif- ferent members of society. It assigns to all both rights and duties. It is, in short, not merely a Gospel for the individual, showing him 34 CHKISTENDOM. how to be saved in the next world, but an uplifting and renewing power in the life of man under present conditions. Under the inspiration of this idea the Christian activities of the century have been directed toward social betterment to a degree never before attempted. The redress of the grievous evils inflicted by human slavery, the amelioration of the lives of the wage-earning classes, the enactment of legislation in the interest of the poor and oppressed, prison and factory reform, are but illustrations of the movement. Christianity has become humanitarian. It has given rise to innumerable organizations for the improvement of life; it has revolted against the selfish assumptions of current political economy; it has created innumerable reforms. The stream of thought is moving in this direction more vigorously than ever. There is even danger that the message of Christianity to the individual may be forgotten in the zeal with which its social message is being proclaimed. Now there can again be no question that this has been a real con- tribution to the religious thought of the century, as well as to its activities. It is quite true, indeed, that society is but the aggregate of individuals^ and that the way to mould society is primarily and necessarily by the regeneration of its members. But this is so be- cause the social aggregate is not a mass of distinct individuals re- lated to one another merely by juxtaposition, but is an organism. The parts are vitally bound together. "The eye cannot say to the ear, I have no need of thee." The rich and poor, the capitalist and the laborer, the rulers and the governed, the healthy and the sick, are mutually dependent. The regeneration of the individual affects society as the restored health of any member of the physical body brings health to the whole. Conversely, the health of the whole reacts on the parts. Eeligion, therefore, has its social message and is so represented in Scripture. In past ages Christianity has been used to uphold the social fabric by the maintenance of monarchical institutions. It would have been a fearful loss if, with their dissolu- tion, it had been identified with them. It was an unspeakable gain that its spirit was found to be in reality accordant with a free democracy, providing the sanctions by which such a society could ' hold together and the altruistic sentiments by which it could exist in health and vigor. This discovery has been made. The religious thought of the age has received from the social idea the occasion for another fresh interpretation of Christ's Gospel. Thereby it has CONTRIBUTIONS TO EELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 35 found the adaptation of Christianity to the new conditions of the modem world. The result has also been an immense enlargement of the conception of the mission of the religion of Jesus. No gain has been greater, whether we view it as manifested in thought or in life ; for while the social message of religion has been re-announced and applied as never before, the message to the individual has not been, and is not likely to be, forgotten. 6. Finally, mention should bo made of the contribution made by the comparative study of the various religions of the world. This has been possible only during the nineteenth centur}', because pre- viously the non-Christian religions were not accurately known. In fact, such knowledge first became possible with the unification of the world by modern commerce and the spread of foreign missions. The religions of the world have now, however, been closely studied, their sacred books and customs investigated, and their ruling ideas re- duced to system. Out of this has arisen the science of compara- tive religion. Religion is considered by it as a phenomenon of human life. Its rudimentary forms have been examined. The phases through which it has passed have been described. Christian- ity has been brought into the comparison, and its resemblances with and differences from other religions have been noted. The effects of this comparison have been, as was to be expected, quite various. Many have been impressed chiefly by the resem- blances between Christianity and other religions, and have inferred that all are manifestations of the natural religious instincts of hu- manity, and differ only as better from worse. A syncretism in re- ligion has been created. The whole phenomenon has been explained on the basis of naturalism and naturalistic evolution. Christianity has been robbed of its uniqueness, though not of its preeminence. Others have seen into the facts more deeply. They have-recognized in the resemblances between Christianity and other religions only what was to be expected, if Christianit}'' was a real religion at all; and they have been more impressed by the differences. Christianity has appeared by the comparison to be the perfect and absolute re- ligion, achieving what others failed to do. Its idea of God, its dis- closure of a universally applicable way of salvation, its satisfaction of the yearning of conscience for peace, its regenerating power in the individual and in society, have appeared more brilliant than ever when contrasted with heathenism. To such observers the compara- tive study of religions lias been fruitful in fresh zeal for the spread 36 christp:ndom. of Christianity throughout the world. But, whichever of these specific impressions have been made, the knowledge of the religious life of humanity has deepened the consciousness that religion is an essential factor of human nature. Whatever theories of its origin have been held, it is seen to be a persistent, indestructible, funda- mental fact in the life of man. It is imbedded in the very structure of his being. It can never again be regarded as the arbitrary crea- tion of priests, nor as a political device. Neither science nor politi- cal economy can leave it out of consideration. The only thing that can be done with it is to purify it. It has taken its place as a con- stituent factor in the world's life, because arising out of the relation in which man finds himself to the universe, as well as out of the re- quirements of his conscience and intelligence. Thus, again, the thoughts of men have deepened concerning the very nature of re- ligion; while more and more is it being felt that Christianity alone realizes the idea of religion and is itself the only absolute one. Such appear to be the most important contributions which have been made to religious thought during the nineteenth century. They assuredly attest the fact that great progress has been made. They partly explain the revival of the religious spirit and give ground for hope that it will prove permanent. Through them all must we not recognize the working of the Spirit of Christ, supported also by the providence of God, who is steadily, though slowly, taking of the things of Christ and showing them unto men ? For certainly the result has been to glorify Jesus Christ. At the beginning of the new century He, more than ever, stands before the world's thought as the supreme object of veneration. Religious thought sees, as never before, that in Him all truth centres and from Him all real life flows. He is plainly to be the Omega, as he was the Alpha, of the religious life of the centuries. The process, whatever it may be, by which Christ is becoming Lord of All, must certainly be the true progress of humanity toward the final goal. THE SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY, J. H. W. Stuckenberg, D.D., LL.D., NORTH CAilBRIDGE. A NEW spirit has entered the Christian Church, effecting a trans- formation of its character, its rehitions, its energies and methods, and its influence. This spirit is social, and in marked contrast with the individualism which has so often been dominant. The effect is felt in the relation of the individual Christian to society, and of the church to secular affairs and all social enterprises. This paper seeks to indicate briefly the causes, the nature, the purpose and the methods of the new Christian social movement ; to describe the new- ly awakened Christian social conscience and its operations. Modern life is so complex, and its social forces are so inextricably interwoven, that the religious factors cannot be absolutely separated and treated as isolated. They affect, and are affected by, economics, polities, sesthetics, the intellectual trend, and the general situation. The social forces constitute an organism in which each is for all and all are for each. Therefore the sociality of the church can be imder- stood only in its connection with the general tendencies in thought and life. These very tendencies which influence the church may have had their origin, in a measure at least, in Christian faith. The Christian thought and life of the present are culminations of long processes; but their more immediate causes are found in re- cent epochs. The growth of associations, the increase of their pow- er, and the prominence of society are significant features of modern times. Once politics dominated society : now society seeks to domi- nate politics. The revolutions of America and France in the eigh- teenth century, and of other countries in the nineteenth, have brought the people to the front, and made the demand for liberty and equality a striking characteristic of present tendencies. The people have become conscious of themselves and their needs; their condition and possibilities have been studied; and their rights have been demanded with persistence, and even with violence. Personal and social duties have not kept pace with the insistence on privilege. In many cases the sovereignty passed from one man, or a privileged 38 CHRISTENDOM. few, to the people; while its full responsibility was not realized. But the prominence and power of the masses now made them objects of interest and study ; and history, formerly concerned chiofly about monarchs, statesmen, generals and scholars, began to take account of the common people. The conception of society was enlarged; it included entire communities, not merely court circles and the aris- tocracy of birth, wealth and intellect. The French revolution proposed to right the wrongs of centuries of corruption and oppression. Human affairs were treated as if wholly subject to human will, and it was forgotten that historic pro- cesses involve necessity as well as freedom, and that to remedy evils may require as long time as it took to develop them. Since that revolution the exposure of evils, particularly the ills of the poorer members of society, has become a mania. During the revolutionary agitations communism appeared, and began the spread of its doc- trines throughout the enlightened nations. Socialism, a name in- vented in 1835, was a broader term and covered a larger variety of social tendencies. Men and systems were called socialistic which opposed the prevailing individualism, and were intent on improving the social condition, especially that of laborers. The situation of the poorer members of society was investigated, the sufferings and inhumanity to which they were subject were exposed, and measures of relief advocated. The socialistic agitations, at first most active in France, soon passed to England, Germany and other Continental countries, differing in aim and labors according to locality and na- tionality, but always aiming to benefit the toilers. The means pro- posed were various, such as self-help, co-operation, for which in some instances state help was asked, the organization of laborers to gain their ends from employers, and to promote their sreneral welfare, and to exert political influence. The Social Democracy, now the largest and most powerful socialistic organizali'on, aims at a total economic and social revolution, in order to turn private and com- peting capital into non-competing social capital. The socialists aim at practical results, but have developed econo- mic and social theories and systems as the means of attaining them. Sociology differs from socialism in that its immediate aim is not practical but scientific. It wants to construct the science of society, whose application can be left to practical reformers. Comte, who invented this term, as well as altruism, and gave an impulse and valuable directions for the development of the social science, came SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 39 from the school of St. Simon. As is usual, the new science received its inspiration from practical needs and tendencies. Sociology aims to interpret society, to show how it is related to nature and the in- dividual, to explain its various processes, especially its evolution, and thus prepare for inferences respecting what it ought to be. Numerous subjects have been discussed under tliis name, and only tentatively can sociology as yet be called a science, there being no consensus regarding its scope, its method, and the system itself. But on whatever social phases and phenomena sociologists have spe- cialized, they always aimed to penetrate the mysteries of society, and have produced profound and valuable results. Sociological study brought society before thinkers and investigators as an object of supreme importance, made individuals and associations more fully aware of their relations, powers and duties, and intensified the in- terest in societies and humanity. The claim by scientists that the nineteenth century belongs to natural science has been disputed; history has made marvelous progress, anthropology, ethnology and sociology were born, economics and politics were transformed and much advanced, human interests in general were greatly developed, and now the concerns of man and his associations are dominant. It has even been claimed that the nineteenth ought to be called "the socialistic century." Men eminent in natural science, who claim last century for their specialty, admit that the twentieth belongs to sociology. It is natural that man and his relations should be the chief concern of man ; and present tendencies indicate that sociology is becoming increasingly the study of the age, and that henceforth unprecedented attention will be devoted to social affairs. The church breathed this atmosphere, and felt the effect in its life; and the environment in which it lived, as well as its internal development, must be taken into account in order to understand the church of to-day. A relation of co-operation and mutualism has existed between the practical and scientific social tendencies and Christianity. The church itself is a social institution, and as such has at all times felt the molding influence of society, and even in its most individualistic periods has affected social affairs as well as individuals. Christianity has a part in all the extensive movements of society, and is a powerful factor in the nations and the world. But whether its sociality is what it ought to be is another matter. It is a Christian axiom that before God all men are equal, that be- lievers are one, that to each other and to the worldly, whether friends 40 CHRISTENDOM. or foes, they owe love and its fruits, and that they are called to trans- form society by means of the Gospel. However derelict it may have been, something of this fundamental Christian spirit and work has alwaA's been found in the church. Christianity possesses humani- tarian and social principles which affect even such persons as are not attracted by its spirituality. But in the realization of its social mis- sion and power, and in the effort to infuse the Christian spirit into all the social relations, we are justified in claiming that a new epoch has begun for the church. Powerfully as the church has been affected by sociology and so- cialism, these have also been powerfully affected bv the church. Christianity is not the only factor in the soil from which the modem social tendencies have sprung; but there is truth in the claim of Laveleye, of Belgium, Todt, of Germany, and of English and Amer- ican writers, that socialism, in spite of its perversions, strikes its roots in Christianity. Wherever Christ has been preached the personality has been em- phasized as made in the image of God, and therefore possessing in- herent dignity and rights. The demands for the rights of man, urged so vehemently and even fanatically at the close of the eigh- teenth century, have their basis in the Gospel. Properly under- stood, the watchwords of the French revolution — liberty, equality, fraternity — are a Christian requirement. The pulpit, in teaching that God is no respecter of persons, that men must be Judged by their hearts, not by position, wealth, or any other outward circum- stances, prepared for the revolt against the external and fictitious distinctions according to which men, regardless of personal ability and character, were usually estimated. Much in the trend of modern times also exalts the significance of the present life and temporal interests. The older Christian literature has more to say about the next world, and less about the value of earthly things and relations. The modern view was pro- moted by the study of natural science, the great progress in economic pursuits, and the growing interest in secular affairs. Material- ism, philosophical and historical criticism, and the effort to substi- tute science for religion, reason for faith, made the future world recede, occasioned doubt, and concentrated attention and hope more on present actualities. While agnosticism gained favor with some scientists, the belief spread among the masses that religion was used to make hope in the next life the means of robbing the toilers SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 41 of the enjoyments of the present. German socialists were incensed when it was affirmed among scholars that while they themselves did not need religion, it was serviceable in keeping the masses quiet. Even where religion held its own, or made advances, it could not retain its former dominance, on account of the marvelous progress in secular learning and worldly interests. The conservative ten- dencies in the church made theology comparatively stationary, while in every department of natural and human studies great advances took place. The religious Life was also profoundly affected by the change from metaphysical speculation and theological dogmatism to practical af- fairs. Since the time of Hegel speculative philosophy has lost ground and yielded the supremacy to facts, experiments, and the direct investigation of reality. Becoming suspicious of subjective notions, men demanded objective realism, by which they were apt to mean what appeals to the senses and can be handled, weighed and measured. Even in the church the cry of religion versus theolog}' was raised, overlooking the fact that all deeper thinking demands a reduction of religious phenomena to principles, causes and system. But the emphasis on practical religion promoted the tendency to concentrate the attention on this life and its immedate concerns. No other century has equaled the nineteenth in the radicalness, severity and scholarship of the attacks on dogmatic theological sys- tems. Those who could not investigate the profound questions in- volved turned to the more evident practical teachings of religion. The attacks on theology directed Christians to its source, the Scriptures; and the attacks on the Scriptures led to a more thorough investigation of their contents. When Strauss attempted to over- throw the authenticity of the history of the evangelists, the church was aroused and made a vigorous defence. The very study of the Gospel augmented the conviction of believers that Christ is Himself the substance of His preaching. The increased study of the Bible by means of numerous helps is characteristic of modern times. Lay- men wanted to investigate for themselves, and they were aided by Sunday-schools and other associations, and by evangelists. The study was influenced by the general social movement. Christ's atti- tude toward social problems became an important question; and it was found that His teaching and that of the Apostles are exceedingly rich in instruction respecting the social relations and duties of Christians. 42 CHRISTENDOM. That the social actuality did not correspond with the Christian ideal was as evident as that the church seemed indifferent to the realization of the ideal. The evils revealed in Christian lands by social students and socialists were appalling. Carl Marx and Fried- rich Engels made astounding revelations respecting the brutality with which women and children were treated in the mines and fac- tories of England during the first half of the nineteenth century, and how laborers were exploited and undergoing a process of gradual degeneration. Similar or even worse horrors were exposed in other lands. Public attention was still more aroused when communistic socialism grew in power, and threatened the throne and the altar, and the whole social structure, in order to establish an entirely dif- ferent social organization on a new basis, and when anarchism actu- ally began the work of destruction. The consternation caused in Europe by an extreme socialism and a brutal anarchism was not ap- preciated in America, where economic conditions were different, and greater freedom was less favorable to extreme measures. Radical socialistic and anarchistic theories began to prevail later in the United States than in Europe, and flourished chiefly among for- eigners who had learned them in the Old World. The same views have recently, however, spread also among Americans. A survey of the history of the century which has just closed thus shows that the origin of the modern Christian social movement is due to a variety of causes both religious and secular. It is the cul- mination of numerous practical and scholarly tendencies, special influence being due to the new interest in social studies and the up- rising of the masses. As is usual in such movements, the develop- ment which pushed society and its concerns to the front has been gradual and often imperceptible, so that it is impossible to say just when it began and what agencies promoted it. There are, however, well-defined landmarks, epochs we might call them, when the Chris- tian social movement received a special impulse, or took a new start. It was about the middle of the nineteenth century that certain popu- lar tendencies culminated and became the occasion of a specific and continuous Christian social activity in Europe. The indifference and even apathy of the clergy and churches of England to the welfare of the poorer classes before this time would seem incredible if the same were not still common to some extent in all Christian lands. Appeals for justice and mercy, on the plea of Christianity, were made by Lord Ashley, afterward Earl of SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 43 Shaftesbury, and his associates, for the improvement of the legal status of laborers. Their miserable situation was exposed by com- mittees, and fully discussed in Parliament; yet the Earl of Shaftes- bury complained that the Christians were indifferent to the matter. Even the wretched condition of the children did not move them. Men of the world were with him, he said, while the saints stood aloof and were silent. But the exposures were not without effect. Some Christians were at least made aware of the situation, and this was a preparation for arousing their consciences. Near the middle of the century Chartism had practically failed. It had demanded uni- versal suffrage and Parliamentary reform, and devised plans for the relief of workingmen ; but it also became involved in socialistic and revolutionary agitations. In 1848 a new movement was started, with some of the reformatory aims of Chartism, but based on Chris- tian principles. The conviction that something must be done for the masses was strengthened by the revolutionary disturbances throughout Europe during that year. The term socialist was at that time, as it has been since, deemed a reproach in the church and among the wealthy. But Maurice, Kingsley, Ludlow and oth- ers started what they called "Christian Socialism." They published the "Christian Socialist," and "Tracts on Christian Socialism," to aid the laborers in their efforts to rise, and to Christianize socialism and socialize Christians. Their peaceable aim was misinterpreted, though they declared that they wanted to prevent rather than to promote revolution. Maurice said, respecting Christian Socialism, that it is "the only title which will define our object and will com- mit us at once to the conflict we must engage in sooner or later with the unsocial Christians and the unchristian socialists. . . . We believe that Christianity has the power of regenerating whatever it comes in contact with, of making that morally healthful and vigor- ous which, apart from it, must be either mischievous or inefficient. We found, from what we knew of the workingmen in England, that the conviction was spreading more and more widely among them that law and Christianity were merely the support and agents of capital. We wished to show them both by words and deeds that law and Christianity are the only protectors of all classes from the selfishness which is the destruction of all." Since that time a great awakening of the Christian social con- sciousness has taken place in England. What is now known as Christian socialism has been modified by the views of Carl Marx. 44 CHRISTENDOM. Henry George and Edward Bellamy. The present society of Chris- tian socialists is small, liberty is advocated respecting theological views, they seek "the union of all men in a real universal brother- hood/"' and aim at the gradual "public control of land and capital." This is its religious position : "Christian socialism aims at embody- ing the principles contained in the life and teachings of Jesus Christ in the industrial organization of society." The St. Matthew's Guild in the Established Church unites radical social views with High Church principles, aims to remove prejudices against the church and her institutions, and "to promote the study of social and political questions in the light of the Incarnation." More powerful is the Christian Social Union, which urges upon the church "the necessity of careful and painstaking study of the social question, and to take the lead in establishing branches for such study." Books are to be suggested for this study, and lectures on social subjects to be delivered. The "Economic Review," con- taining valuable economic and social discussions, is published by this society. Tlie "Church Army" aims at the same kind of work as the Salvation Arm}', but on a much smaller scale. The Rev. R. A. Woods, in "English Social Movements," says: "On the whole, and in its main features, the Church of England exerts a larger and more salutary influence on general social life than any other Christian body in the world. . . . Most of the churches are well supplied with paid workers. In addition to the rectors and vicars, there will be found curates, lay readers, members of lay brotherhoods and sisterhoods, deaconesses, Bible women, and trained nurses, besides the usually well -organized volunteers from the church membership." Excellent social work is also done by the Congregationalists, Meth- odists and Baptists, but not so much by means of special organiza- tions. Their churches are reaching out after the masses, and trying to aid them in temporal and spiritual matters. In this connection the London Congregational Union, Dr. Barnardo, F. N. Charring- ton, and Rev. Hugh Price Hughes, deserve special mention. Rev. Mr. Woods states that Christian Socialism is spreading, but that as yet it has not collected much of its strength into organiza- tion. "In the dissenting churches, while many of the younger min- isters hold very radical views, the number of avowed socialists is com- paratively small. But, in the Church of England, one might fairly say that there is a strong socialistic movement. A group of forty SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHEISTIANITY. 45 London clergymen, nearly all socialists, meet during the winter to consider what attitude they shall take toward specific labor troubles. A good part of the young High Churchmen, often the best repre- sentatives of the university and of the upper social class, are facing the problems of poverty in London and other towns. This experi- ence, together with the new enthusiasm of humanity, which is run- ning so strong in the High Church party, is making many of them socialists." About the same time as in England, the modern Christian social movement began in Germany. At a religious congress held in 1848, in the Reformation city, Wittenberg, John Henry Wichern directed attention to the condition of the masses, and zealously urged that with respect to the poorer classes the church has a special mission. It was generally recognized that it owes them duties as well as other men ; but sight had been lost of the fact that the poor and suffering are committed to the church as objects of peculiar care and help- fulness. This was involved in their very needs. Spiritually as well as in economic affairs, they were the neglected classes. The church was viewed as an organ of the state, even as a clerical institution for political ends, where respectability, wealth and aristocracy ruled ; but in which the common people had little interest except to receive religious instruction. It was too exclusively an institution for wor- ship and the exercise of clerical functions to be in an exalted sense sociable, to promote lay activity, or to uplift the masses. Wichern's earnest appeals had the more effect because Germany had just been appalled by the revolution, which revealed deep discontent, threat- ened the existing institutions, and resulted in much bloodshed. The revolution was no more significant in revealing the feeling of the masses than in testifying to the neglect of the needy by the church. Not only were many of the workingmen alienated from the church, but infidelity, materialism and agnosticism prevailed among them to an alarming extent. To win back to the church and Christianize the masses now became the problem. Great as the difficulty then was, it was still greater when an extreme socialism developed its power, enlisted millions under its banner, and either avowed athe- ism or at least opposed the church because conservative and an ally of the state in preventing its revolutionary schemes. The state church, as an institution, had too little freedom, and was too unwieldy to accomplish the work of social reform ; but it XV as deeply affected by the socialistic agitations. The sermons paid 46 CHRISTENDOM. j more attention to the social condition; preachers drew nearer the laborers, and in many parishes special eiforts were made to help the poorer classes. The new spirit, however, found the best expres- sion in what is called "Inner Mission." We have no corresponding English term, home mission and evangelization being more limited. In distinction from foreign mission the Inner Llission works among people in Christian lands, and nominally in the church, but not full participants of its spirit and in special need of temporal aid. The term is not limited to purely spiritual efforts, but is intended to in- clude all the work outside of the regular ministrations of the church undertaken in Christ's spirit, whether it be for the individual or society; for the soul, the body, or the surroundings. The Inner Mission was the sphere in wliich Christian individuals and volun- tary organizations promoted the cause of Christ among the neglected such as the church did not reach. It includes the works of mercy by thousands of deaconesses, Avho, in institutions and homes, minis- ter to the sick, the suffering, and the poor ; the brotherhoods trained to take care of orphans and neglected children, to provide religious instruction and services in destitute regions, and to undertake what- ever reformatory work may be needed ; Christian hotels for the trav- eling public, and homes for young workmen and for servant girls; and efforts in behalf of particular classes, such as cabmen and wait- ers, who are unable to attend religious services, the unemployed, re- leased prisoners, fallen and abandoned women. It therefore em- braces every department of Christian effort in behalf of the needy. Christ's regenerative mission is interpreted to apply to the whole man, physical, mental and spiritual, and the whole world so far as it sustains himian relations. The cause enlists the energies of many preachers, and it presents a sphere for Christian laymen to exercise the gifts for whose development the church affords too little oppor- tunity. Laymen are often the managers and most efficient workers. Formal organizations are not necessary; any Christian can under- take the work wherever needed. There are general conventions of workers in the Inner Mission, but each department is independent and supported by voluntarv' contributions. The work is extensive, thoroughly Christian, and fruitful of good, and one of the most significant evidences of the social power of Christianity in our day. The Inner Mission readies all the Protestant cities of Germany, extends to country districts, and even to foreign lands where Ger- mans reside, and contains twenty-five or more distinct departments. SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 4T It is a general rule that the church which is in the minority in a region is apt to be more zealous than the one which has the ascen- dancy. The zeal of the latter seems to be affected by the fact that without special effort it has things its own way. The Protestants are most energetic in Catholic and the Catholics in Protestant lands. However the Catholic clergy may neglect the masses in countries where their church has undisputed sway, they reveal much energy in their behalf when they have Protestant rivals. In Germany, parts of Austria, in Holland, Scandinavia, England, Scotland, and the United States, the Catholic priests display much concern for the workingmen. German Socialists declare that in Germany the Cath- olic Church has shown more interest in behalf of laborers than the Evangelical Church. Protestants are charged with individualism and disintegrating tendencies, while in its very nature Catholicism is more united and more socialistic. The Pope's encyclical on the labor question has made special attention to the workmen a duty of the priesthood. Before it appeared, however, men like Bishop Kett- eler, of Mayence, Moufong, and their co-laborers, had directed atten- tion to the demand made on the church by the needy classes. The priests, under the guidance of the bishops, and these under the direc- tion of the Pope, have made vigorous efforts to keep the masses in the church. In this respect they have been more successful than the Protestants. It is evident that the interest in labor and the spiritual welfare of the church were not the sole considerations of the priest- hood. The CuUurJcampf united the Catholics into an Ultramontane political party, known as the Centre, the strongest faction in the German Parliament. Votes were eagerly sought to secure the polit- ical aims of this party. But whatever motive prevailed, large Cath- olic labor organizations have been formed among miners, railroad employees, workers in iron, textile industries, and other trades. These organizations are made auxiliary to the church, and the priests have been active in establisliing and promoting them. They are on a positive Christian basis, and therefore oppose the anti-religious tendencies of revolutionary socialism; but on this basis they labor for the promotion of the general interests of the workingmen. Capi- talists and employers are often invited to their meetings. The numerous eleemosynary institutions of the church and its emphasis on deeds of charity have kept it in touch with the suffering masses. Most of the revolutionary socialists have come from the ranks of Protestantism. Protestant labor organizations have also beeo 48 CHRISTENDOM. formed, but they are less numerous than among the Catholics. Court Preacher Stoecker, Rev. Naumann, Rev. Eoehre, and many others, preachers and laymen, have tried to arouse the Evangelical Church to a deeper and more active interest in the labor problem, and their efforts have not been in vain. But under the plea that they might aid the Social Democracy they have met with opposition from the court and the moneyed aristocracy. The Christian social leaven, however, cannot be checked ; and in many instances the inner mission surpasses in efficiency the eleemosynary institutions of Catholicism, and at the same time promotes Christian freedom and a healthy Biblical piety. In the United States the beginning of the modern Christian social movement is less clearly marked than in Europe. It is not surpris- ing that so long as slavery existed, public attention should be but little concerned with the problems of free labor. Even before the civil war, however, labor had its grievances, formed organizations, and carried on agitations for better conditions. America was caUed the paradise of laborers. The country was large and rich in re- sources that needed development ; labor was abundant, food cheap, while wages were high, and the political advantages of workingmen the greatest in the world. Even then their favorable condition was, no doubt, generally over-estimated by the other classes, because not carefully investigated. A great change took place when the slaves were freed and became competitors in the labor market, when hun- dreds of thousands of emigrants landed from Europe and Asia, when the best arable and the most accessible land was taken by actual settlers, corporations, or speculators, and when laborers found it difficult to become employers or capitalists because the existing op- portunities were seized by men of means, and also because business enterprises became so extensive as to require large sums of money. Discontent increased in labor circles; yet long after socialism had gained prominence in Europe Americans boasted that the United States had no social problem. The singular apathy of capitalists and employers toward the situation of laborers is largely due to a failure to perceive that organic connection of society which makes the interest of one class the concern of all, and to that false indi- vidualism which adopts the theory "Each one for himself," and leaves it to every man to work out his own destiny as best he can. Heathenism prevailed under the guise of a Christian freedom which totally lacked the brotherly element of Christianity. Crises came SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 49 when labor was scarce and multitudes were out of employment and in need. At such times there were vigorous manifestations of im- ported socialistic and anarchistic theories. The poorer classes drifted into the slums, the abode of vice and crime, of filth and misery. The vast accumulations of wealth, the increase of luxury and extravagant display, and the influence of money in social and political and ecclesiastical affairs, made the contrast the more strik- ing, because in theory all men were regarded as equal. In Europe, as well as in America, the view spread that the American laborer had lost his former advantages and was gradually sinking to the European level. With a theoretical training in political and re- ligious independence and equality the American workingmen felt that in respect to the church, to culture, and in courts of justice, they were at a great disadvantage. They were embittered, denounced existing social conditions, and charged the church with being an in- stitution of the rich and respectable classes. Ministers came in for their share of abuse as slaves of the wealthy, on whom they depended for their salaries. The growing alienation between the classes, and of laborers from the church, was gradual and even imperceptible until too marked any longer to escape attention. It was discovered that America has a social problem of great magnitude and pecu- liarly dangerous. The laborers are in the majority, and by union can exert the strongest political and martial force. Every one knows what this means in a free state where the majority rule, the people are sovereign, and no large standing army exists to coerce them. The freedom, intelligence, traditions, and ideals of the la- borer increase his demands as well as his power of realization. It is not more strange that slavery could exist in a land other- wise the freest on earth than that in the same land the labor move- ment should so long be left to laborers, as if of no interest to the other members of society. Frequent reference was made to the sacredness of property, for the protection of which the strictest laws must be enacted and all the powers of the Government exerted ; but it was often ignored that property has value only for man's sake and that it is wrong to exploit men for the sake of property. Gradually, however, it became apparent that the labor problem is a social prob- lem, that it affects capital and the rich as well as labor, and concerns the church, the state, civilization, itself, and all the relations of aaan to man. The church in the United States naturally partook of the views 50 CHRISTENDOM. generally prevalent respecting labor. Prosperity was supposed to be so universal, or within the reach of all, that there appeared to be no need for a special consideration of laborers. The man who spoke of classes as actually existing in American society was liable to be branded as a demagogue, until the class consciousness of laborers and their conflicts with capital left no doubt on the subject. Class dis- tinctions were attributed to churches themselves. Down-town was left to the poorer people, often foreigners and Catholics, and the Protestant churches moved up-town. Large districts, densely popu- lated, were neglected or provided with mission chapels which lacked the attractions of the elegant churches in the wealthier parts of the city. The separation of the wealthy and middle classes from the laborers is neither universal nor always desired by the churches ; but it is too common among Protestants and contrasts painfully with the union of all classes in the same Catholic service. Recently many Protestant churches have been more ready to welcome laborers heart- ily than laborers were to give a favorable response. Often the preju- dice of workingmen against the church is fostered mainly by a few churches of peculiar prominence, where the dominance of wealth and love of display prevent laborers from feeling at home. The charge that the pastors and the people do not study the labor problem, and fail to advocate impartial justice in labor conflicts, has truth in it, but is by no means universally applicable. Great progress has been made within a few decades ; but in interest in the social problem and in efforts for its solution on Christian principles, America is still far behind England and Germany. The pulpit here, as elsewhere, promoted the labor movement by preaching liberty, equality, the worth of man, the value of character, and Christ's law of human brotherhood. The hope that in America the realization would come first deepened the despair as the ideal Beemed to recede. Preachers always existed who were the best friends of laborers and sought to apply the whole Gospel of Christ to them and their situation; but it cannot be claimed as characteristic of American Christianity that pastors and churches regarded it as their supreme call to seek the needy classes to which Jesus was most drawn and who responded most favorably to His message. The smaller do- nominations, doing extensive missionary work, and such as are com- ))osed chiefly of foreigners, have, of course, a large percentage of laborers, and in all denominations there are congregations in which workingmen are prominent. SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 51 The religious social movement in the United States was mainly inaugurated and carried forward by individuals. Their pioneer work often isolated them ; not on^y were they without sympathy from their brethren, but even subject to denunciation and persecution. During the sharp and bitter conflicts between capital and labor, sympathy expressed for workingmen was liable to be interpreted as hostility to capitalists. With no state church, with numerous de- nominations as competitors and rivals, with organizations often loose, scattered over a great extent of territory, and with little union between them, it is not strange that the movement should be more individualistic than in Europe. Here, however, as in England, the Episcopal Church has special organizations for the laboring classes, such as the Church Association for the Advancement of the Interests of Labor and the Christian Social Union. Communistic experiments, some on a religious basis, are old in the United States. One of these, American in origin, shows that an effort was made to introduce Christian socialism about the same time as in England. In 1854, a work entitled "Practical Christian Socialism" appeared. Its author, Adin Ballou, was a Universalist preacher and founder of the Hopedale Community. The large vol- ume seems to have fallen still-born from the press. The Com- munity, founded in 1841, existed only seventeen years, was near its end when the book appeared, and this may have contributed to the neglect of the volume, which deserved a better fate. Many of the discussions are able and contain valuable expositions of society. The author proposes to give a "true system of human society," basing it on the teaching of Jesus Christ. The book reveals a sublime faith in the social righteousness to be established by the Christian re- ligion, and in the help of God. Theological dogmatism is avoided ; practical Christianity is advocated ; the importance of the individual is emphasized, and stress placed on his freedom and individuality ; and mind, heart and conscience are exalted about the external sur- roundings. Love and the spirit of brotherhood were to dominate society instead of the worldly methods of force and competitive rivalry. It is indicative of the neglect of the social aspect of Christianity that no attempt was made by Christian scholars to give the social system involved in the teachings of the New Testament. There is little hope of uniting Christian social workers until a definite idea is formed of the Biblical conception of the nature, relations, responsi- 52 CHRISTENDOM. bilities and agencies of Christian society. In order to direct atten- tion to the importance of the subject and to give hints for its de- velopment, a volume entitled "Christian Sociology," by J. H. W. Stuckenberg, was published in 1880. As this was the first time that the term Cliristian sociology was used, it became the occasion of much discussion then and since. It has now been permanently es- tablished, stands for an extensive literature, and designates a. specific sphere of Christian inquiry. It makes no claim to supersede, or dictate to, general sociology, but holds that the principles of Chris- tian society are found in Scripture and can be formulated into a system. The volume defines Christian sociology "as the science of Christian society, or as the science of that society which is controlled by Christian principles. Its aim is to describe this society; to ex- plain its origin, nature, laws, relations and purposes. This science will be perfect in proportion as it gives the distinguishing charac- teristics of Christian society and indicates the relation of this society to other societies." While Christian socialism is practical in its aim, Christian sociology aims at a science of Christian society in the same sense that theology and Christian ethics are called sciences. Numerous other Christian social works of a later date have ap- peared, such as those of R. Heber Newton, Herron, Gladden, Abbott, Hodges, Bliss, Lorimer, and others. The interest awakened in the subject is evident from the space given to social matters in the re- ligious press, and from the prominence of the theme in conventions, in the pulpit, on the platform, and in schools. Numerous special journals have also been established to promote the social work of the church. In America, as well as in England and other countries, the Salvation Army is doing valuable service in meeting the needs of the poorer members of society; its labors are too well known, however, to require extended notice. A general survey of the social activity of the Protestant Church in different countries does not enable us to claim that as an institution it has anywhere given a dominant place to the social aspect of Chris- tianity. The pul)ject has frequently been discussed and resolutions on social work have been adopted, but as a body the cliurch has not committed itself. No platform exists on which all the workers stand, and no uniform method has been adopted. Individuals and associations undertake different kinds of work, but there is no union of Christian reformers or of Christian reforms. The lack of a defi- nite understanding and of organized cooperation is a hindrance to SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 53 success. But everywhere the social spirit has been developed and the social conscience quickened. The social factors of Christianity, the character, power, and mission of Christian society, and the methods of Christian sociality, receive an amount of attention in the church and religious literature altogether unknown a few decades since. Many pastors are students of sociology, of social conditions, and of the means of removing social ills and elevating the masses. Churches are more intent on attracting laborers, and in a number of instances the pews have been made free and services specially adapted to the masses. Workingmen also speak more kindly of the church since they find it more friendly to the cause of labor. The Christian social movement is here to stay. It is only in its initiatory stages, is making progress both in extent and in power, and promises to gain a controlling influence in the future. Its character and pur- pose are, however, frequently misunderstood, and therefore it is necessary to explain them. It aims to socialize the churches, to create an interest in all that pertains to social welfare, and to substitute for the perverted concep- tions of society, so often prevalent even in churches, the social aspect contained in Scripture. In spite of the extensive literature on the subject, a complete Biblical conception has not yet been attained, which accounts for the conflicting notions respecting the social re- quirements of the Gospel. The diversity regarding what is required is due to the fact that the investigation is new, the material is ex- tensive, investigators come with preconceived views, and on the burning social problems prejudice is easily excited. Much and pro- found research is still required in order to appropriate, systematize, and apply the social wealth of the Bible. The economic theories adopted by social thinkers and workers must not be confounded with the Biblical aspect of society. Scrip- ture does not propose to teach the laws of production, exchange, dis- tribution, and consumption of wealth, but establishes certain funda- mental principles as the guides of men in their industrial relations. With the same Christian motives different economic theories may tx>. adopted, if not in conflict with Scripture, the choice being deter- mined by questions of expediency. Neither can the effort to make society communistic according to the model at the close of the second chapter of Acts be regarded as a law. Under the inspiration of the day of Pentecost the religious fervor and brotherly love of the be- lievers established a species of communism, so that they "had. all 64 CHRISTENDOM. things in common, and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need." This was wholly volun- tary, did not become a rule for the Apostolic Church, was no doubt soon abandoned, because impracticable, and might work well in a particular community under special circumstances and fail in others. What believers actually hold in common and share with each other is a profound problem which that early experiment could not settle for all Christians and all times. Frequently some kind of coopera- tion is far more expedient than communism, and Christian socialism in England bas been promotive of an extensive cooperative movement, especially in the form of distribution. According to the Gospels and Epistles, charity and helpfulness are to be exercised for the relief of need and suffering, but the methods are left to Christian freedom and wisdom. Even among those called Christian socialists different economic theories may be adopted for the reform and reconstruction of society. That, from a Christian standpoint, the present social condition, with its unjust distinctions, its vice, crime, and misery, is intolerable and demands a radical transformation cannot be questioned. The tares are ripe for the burning. So many things are involved in the re- construction on Christian principles that the problem can only be solved tentatively and progressively. The Rev. W. D. P. Bliss de- fines the essence of Christian socialism as "the application to society of the way of Christ. It believes that Christ has a social way, and that only in this way are there healing and wholeness for the na- tions. * * * Christian socialism follows from, and is involved in, personal obedience to Christ. It is first Christian. Its starting point is the Incarnation. The new social gospel of Christian thinkers and workers is simply an effort to restore the original Gospel to its proper place in the church and to make it effective by means of the spirit of Christ. Whatever differences exist, this is the heart and the purpose. The social aspect of Christianity makes a specialty of the teachings of Christ and the Apostles respecting society. Many of these teachings are plain and oft-repeated, but they have been overlooked by the individualistic tendencies, or have at least not been fully appre- ciated and properly embodied in life. Christian society recognizes God as its spiritual Father, Christ as its Founder and Elder Brother, love as its essence which constitutes the members of real brother- hood, with the Gospel as its basis, with the spirit of Christ as its SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 55 guide, and with humanity and the world as the sphere of its activity. Children of the same Father are, of course, brothers; but this ideal relation is to be made a living actuality. As God must be loved supremely, so the neighbor is to be loved as self. The old and nar- row particularism of Jews and Gentiles is to be overcome by making neighbor mean especially one in need, regardless of nationality and creed. Humanity constitutes neighborhood. The Golden Rule is the Christian law: "All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them : for this is the law and the prophets." We must forgive others if we want God to forgive us; that means we are to do to our fellow-men what we want God to do to us. By his royal law of service Jesus overthrows the Oriental heathenism which made greatness consist in being served, while He begins a new world by making him greatest who serves most. 'TBut whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant ; even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many." Men ordinarily seek such as can help and exalt them ; Jesus is unique in that he seeks those who need Him most, and thus He gives a new law for His followers. As distinct from His teaching by word of mouth, Jesus must Himself be taken as the Word and the social model. He lived His doc- trine and made His life the doctrine for His Disciples. No dog- matic system can give full expression to this personal element; the command is to go and do likewise. Christianity is a spirit, and that spirit is Christ. An important factor in the mighty revolution He wrought consisted in the infinite tenderness with which He sought the most needy and embraced them in His compassionate heart, be- coming the friend of the friendless, the helper of the helpless, preaching to them, and then illustrating His preaching by feeding the hungry, healing the sick, comforting the distressed, and receiving sinners and eating with them. He saved those whom we call aban- doned, and to the man who fell among thieves He is the Good Sa- maritan. His mission is to the surroundings of men as well as to men themselves ; therefore He denounces the mammonism of His day with its fiendish covetousness, the ceremonialism with its displays before men as a substitute for religion, the tradition of the elders put in place of the decrees of God, and that entire religious and po- litical degradation which made Him weep over Jerusalem. Christ's social work can be a mystery to such only as will not sec. 56 CHRISTENDOM. It is inner and spiritual, but at the same time penetrates and per- vades the entire human cosmos, touching and transforming all of mans relations and conditions. The Disciples are commissioned to preach, to heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the dead, and cast out devils. He regenerates men, and with them tlie world. The new emphasis on the study of Scripture, on practical religion, and on sociality gave prominence to these neglected Biblical teach- ings. It was discovered that the Bible is marvelously rich in teach- ings applicable to the social agitations and miseries of our times. The possibilities which our Lord opened up to the neglected masses have a meaning in relation to the insistence of the poorer members of society for recognition, for better culture, for greater opportuni- ties. If in Christian lands they were content with a degraded con- dition, it would prove Christianity, so far as they arc' concerned, a failure. Men looked at the abject heathenism in the centres of our most Christian civilization and asked, "Were Christ to come, what would He do?" Christians truly alive insisted that the time had come for judgment to begin at the house of God, for worldliness to be scourged out of the temple, and for a restoration of the spirit and work of Christ and the Apostles to the church. While men of the world looked to the church to take the lead in the social regeneration, objections were raised by the pulpit and laymen. The effort to extend religion to all human relations according to the New Testament model was opposed by professing Christians, who said, "Preach the Gospel." By the Gospel they meant individual salvation, doctrines in a narrow sense spiritual. "Preach the Gos- pel" was said to those who advocated political purity, temperance, honesty in business, mercy for the needy, and a Christian humani- tarianism. The very preaching they wanted had, however, prevailed all along, and in the midst of it the existing social wretchedness had developed. Another objection was that social affairs are determined by nature, and therefore inevitable, or by God, and therefore can be opposed only in defiance of His will ! Since then some have learned that social affairs are largely of human creation and subject to hu- man volition. The social awakening of Christians led to an apprehension of the teachings of the New Testament respecting the socializing and or- ganizing influence of Christianity. It became evident that Jesus gave a prominence to the Kingdom of God which had been lost sight of by the Christian consciousness. In Germany, Ritschl laid great SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 57 stress on the Kingdom as a dominant factor in the teaching of Jesus, and, however viewed in other respects, the wide influence of the new theology concentrated attention again on this neglected doctrine. To identify God's Kingdom with a church and with the limited sphere of its organized labors was recognized as a perversion. It means the spiritual dominion or reign of God, and the Kingdom exists wher- ever this dominion is found. It thus includes all true spiritual activity on earth, whether inside or outside of the organized church. The revival of the doctrine of the kingdom socializes Christianity and overcomes the old individualism which is intent only on saving the individual and embodying him in the church. The oneness of believers is likewise indicated by representing them as a family by Christ and the Apostles, as a household of faith and a brotherhood; as an organism, either as a vine and its branches, or as a body with its organs ; as a flock under Christ, the Good Shepherd ; as a temple or building of God ; and as a church. Christ prays that between believers the same unity may exist as between Himself and the Father, and that this unity be made evident to the world. This oneness of Christians has significance for the world as well as for their own sake. Through their labors humanity is to be discipled. The social awakening of the church also gave a new meaning to this life. The importance attached by Christ to society and the blessings He offered in this world made it^ssible to defer all the glories of the Christian to the life to come. Jesus reveals a passion for humanity. We have seen that His teaching respecting man in- cludes all of man and all his relations and surroundings. This truth is enforced by the fact that the physical and intellectual life, the natural conditions and secular social relations, exert a marked influ- ence on spirituality. There are environments whose atmosphere is pollution, and only by changing them can religion flourish in them. Hence the concern of Christianity for the home and whatever affects family life; its relation to politics, to sanitation, to slums, the saloon, to recreation and amusement, to the schools and charitable institu- tions. To neglect them is suicidal. In this world a spirit without a body is a ghost ; and an isolated spirituality is ghostly. This religious extension has brought the church into spheres of activity formerly but little regarded. It has a new message to cap- ital and labor ; to municipalities, states, and nations ; to women and children that should be at home but wander into factories ; to sweat- shops and palaces ; to culture and ignorance. Just as in the heathen 5S CHRISTENDOM. world missionaries seek to transform the total pliysical and mental condition, together with the moral and religious, so in lands called Christian the church is learning that it has part in all that is organ- ically connected with the church, and that all ought to be spiritual- ized. Hence the church is changing — we live in an era of transition respecting its relations and methods. The problem has been seized, how to enter this wondrously complex modern life, with its enlarged range of thought, feeling and activity, with its denial of authority and culture of anarchism, and to leaven every part of it with the Gospel. Churches are even socially transformed which do not form- ally change their methods. More attention is given to questions of social justice and mercy in economics, politics, and human inter- course in general. Churches are inquiring how far, by their neglect or example, ihey are responsible for the abandoned and outcasts ; for Dives and Lazainis; for the corruptness in government; for the prevalence of vice, crime, and illiteracy; and for the social shams which have taken the place of mind and heart. That a new Chris- tian world has been entered is proved by the tone of the pulpit and the character of religious literature. Besides this change in the church in general, many churches are instituting special means for meeting the social demands. They are becoming in a fuller sense eleemosynary institutions. Agencies are also established for various kinds of instruction. Civic leagues and good citizenship classes are formed, the neglected are taught and trained in industry and thrift, and Christians are prepared for undertaking social work among the needy. Settlements have been established for the purpose of bringing the different social grades together and giving opportunities for refinement and culture to the poorer classes. They are also valuable aids in purifying the ex- ternal environment, and in increasing the vigilance and efficiency of the police and other public authorities. Institutional churches have been organized in cities and also in country districts, for the purpose of applying the principles of Christ to every species of individual and social need. They differ according to locality and requirements, the aim being to make an application of the Gospel to all the rela- tions and necessities of men. The Sunday services are made attrac- tive and popular so as to win all classes ; life is studied with a view to discovering and meeting its needs ; classes arc formed for promot- ing various studies or for instructing in the evening such persons as are engaged during the day ; agencies are established for advice and SOCIAL ASPECT OF CHRISTIANITY. 59 relief; and offices at the church are kept open day and evening for consultation and service. In this way the church is made in the truest sense a missionary and social institution. It can recommend and circulate the best literature, establish societies as needed by the community, furnish profitable recreation and entertainment, and can become the centre from which light radiates in every direction. Many Christian societies are also organized, in various places, with- out direct connection with the church, which aim to carry on works of reform, that of temperance being specially prominent. It is evi- dent that there is much religious effort which is not in the organized church, but flourishes in the Kingdom of God. The fear that this religious extension into regions formerly sharp- ly separated as secular or worldly, common and unclean, might rob the church of its spirituality is proving groundless. That in the first reaction against false traditional methods there should be ex- tremes is not surprising. With time and experience these evils will be corrected. A religion which thoroughly penetrates every phase of social life is immeasurably more valuable than a religion which isolates itself. The pulpit occupies a larger sphere in this religious extension; it applies its message to all the human actualities, and thus attains that reality which is an urgent demand of the age. Suddenly a vast field has been opened up to Christian effort, and in entering it new life, new power, and greater influence may be ex- pected by the pulpit and the church. Thus far the social movement has considered the social problem chiefly as it involves the workmgmen. But there is also a social problem among the rich — how they can maintain themselves amid growing discontent, the increasing power of the masses with the ballot, and the determination to overthrow all unjust inequalities; what the duties of wealth are to the less favorably situated ; and how the power of wealth can be consecrated to the highest leadership in religion, politics, economics, and culture. As no other institution, the Church of Jesus Christ rises above class distinctions and class prejudice, and has the means for uniting, on the basis of the Gospel, all the social grades and conditions. This will be a matter of course so soon as the prevailing worldly tests of society yield to those of Christian love and brotherhood. Some pastors and laymen despair of the prospect of Christianizing the churches sufficiently to enable them to seize this glorious mission, and therefore they organize churches especially for laborers. Whatever demand may exist for 60 CHRISTENDOM. them amid present conditions, the Christian ideal tolerates no dis- tinctions according to external circumstances which ignore the claims of character. The time has evidently come for the letter of James, which has been called the sociological Epistle. The Christian sociality already attained promises well for the religions spirit and labors of the new century. It will no doubt grow in knowledge and efficiency, and thus prepare for the fuller coming of the Kingdom of Christ. The church will become all things to all men for the purpose of making them the children of God. In this great Christian social movement and religious exten- sion believers have the hope of realizing the words of the Apostle : "All things are yours. . . . The earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof." REVIVAL MOVEMENTS IN THE NINE- TEENTH CENTURY. J. Wilbur Chapman, D.D., NEW YOEK. [A revival presupposes a condition of deadness from which a spiritual resurrection is desired. The ideal condition would naturally be that in which a continuous state of religious efficiency is maintained. Some have even ventured to coin the word "vival" as expressive of that ideal state. A "revival" is etymologically therefore a making an individual or church to live again, after a lapse into spiritual lethargy. But while the desirable con- dition would be that in which the church is always animated with the intens- fcst zeal and enthusiasm, as a matter of fact, as we look back in history, we note a periodic recurrence of seasons of spiritual ebb and flow. The kingdom of God in its visible unfolding has experienced a series of retardations and accelerations. Surely the supreme need of the church of Christ in the opening years of the twentieth century is a revival of spiritual power. Without being unduly pessimistic, we are compelled to admit that the tendencies of the times are grave enough to call for the most serious consideration. Many things that ought to be very sacred to Christians are imperiled. The fundamental truths of the evangelical faith, the loyalty of the people to that righteousness which exalteth a nation, and even Christianity itself as an authoritative revelation of God to our race — all are exposed to a storm of controversy which grows more vehement every day. The condition of the churches themselves is far from satisfactory. They abound in activity, but their fruitfulness is scanty. Statistics that have a lurid prominence in newspaper reports emphasize a widespread and growing conviction of spiritual impotence and sterility. The machinery is ample enough, but "the spirit of life is not in the wheels." The cry for years tas been for an increase in the number of effective preach- ers, for an improvement in the organization of our Sunday-schools, for a better financial system, for larger accommodation for public worship, and for more attractive services in the sanctuary. Cheering progress has been made along these lines ; but something more is needed, and the need was never felt more keenly than now. That something more is a fresh baptism of the Holy Ghost and of fire, which alone can vitalize congregational machinery and ac- tivity. Its necessity has always been acknowledged in petition and medita- tion, but of late the acknowledgment has grown in many hearts into a longing of passionate intensity. But critical as is the condition of the church in many respects, there Is much to inspire every believer in the vital forces of Christianity with con- 61 62 CHRISTENDOM. fidence. Men who have a knowledge of the times express the conviction that we are on the edge of a great manifestation of the presence and power of tne Spirit of God. Already signs of a more intense spiritual life are making their appearance in our churches. The fire has been kindled, and it is silently but surely spreading. The prayer of many is that it may flame up into a great revival which shall sweep the continent from ocean to ocean. For the sake of the churches, for the sake of the irreligious multitude, for the sake of the struggle with unbelief and with the paralj'zing forces of indifiPerentism — the worst of all isms — may God grant the fulfillment of the prayer so that the whole nation may become conscious of the presence and power of the Holy Spirit ! Prayerful expectation justifies hopefulness. — Unidentified. —Ed.] * « 4( The nineteenth century, though born in a religious revival, passed away, apparently, in a state of apathy and indifference such as have not been known in the church for years. Not apathy, let it be observed, regarding benevolence, for the giv- ing of the members of the church has been most generous, and hun- dreds of thousands of dollars have in recent years passed through its treasury for the betterment of society and the honor of Christ. Certainly, never in the world's history have there been so many benevolent works carried on through the inspiration and under the guidance of the church as at the present time. Nor is indifference to religion so manifest in the matter of attend- ance upon church services; while here and there may be found churches where the attendance has greatly decreased, yet, as a matter of fact, the morning service at least continues to be well attended, and the interest in prayer meetings, as a rule, encouraging. But so far as conversions are concerned, the close of the nineteenth century leaves ample room for discouragement; and, since it is our business to win men to Christ, and to preach in such a way that sin- ners may be converted, there is certainly, as shown in the reports of the various churches, recently made, an indication of a serious de- fect somewhere in the effectiveness of our services. But our discouragement is evidently to be our encouragement, for already we hear the sound of a going in the tops of the mulberry trees, and in many quarters there are not wanting signs of abundance of rain. The modern Christianity presents us with a glorious series of re- vival movements, a resume of which is as follows : First — The great Reformation, properly beginning in the four- teenth and extending into the sixteenth century. REVIVALS. 63 Second — The work of God in the seventeenth century in the days of Owen, Bunyan, Baxter and Flavel. Third — The great awakening in the eighteenth century in the days of Whitefleld, Wesley, Edwards, Brainerd and the Tennents. Fourth — The revival of the nineteenth century, beginning about 1790 and reacliing to about the year 1840. Fifth— The revival of 1857 to 1860. Sixth — The special work of grace as carried on under the leader- ship of Mr. Dwight L. Moody. The work of grace which ushered in the nineteenth century begaa about the year 1790. In the old country the fearful inroads of French infidelity had sapped the foundations of faith and hope in. God, till the hearts of the faithful began to fail them for fear. This aroused such men as Bishop Porteus, Andrew Fuller, Rowland Hill and kindred spirits in England to such noble efforts as greatly blessed the world ; a simultaneous work in Scotland being carried on under the Haldanes and others. This Avork of grace was the direct cause of the formation of the Religious Tract Society, the British and Foreign Bible Society, the London Missionary and the Church Missionary societies; also the first society for evangelizing the hea- then, and the Baptist Foreign Missionary Society. In the north of Wales, also, under the labors of Charles of Bala, the Apostle of North Wales, a great revival occurred in the beginning of the year 1791. The influence of French infidelity, aided and represented by Paine's "Age of Reason" and Voltaire's assaults upon Christianity, was felt in America, until it became fashionable for the upper classes to sneer at the Bible and ridicule the foundations of the faith of the people. But when the enemy was thus coming in like a flood the Lord lifted up a standard against him. In different parts of the country God began to manifest Himself in the outpouring of His Spirit, as, for example, in western Pennsylvania about the year 1790; also in northern and western A-'irginia, and a little later in the Eastern States. These awakenings introduce us to the names of such men as Bellamy, Griffin, the younger Edwards, Backus, Mills, Dwight, Livingston, Nettleton and Lyman Beecher, besides many others who in their day did not shun to declare the whole counsel of God. In 1793 began the unbroken series of American revivals — in Maine, in Massachusetts, in Connecticut, and, indeed, in all the New 64 CHRISTENDOM. England States. By 1802 remarkable revivals had spread through most of the Western and Northern States, while Dr. Ashael Nettle- ton has left on record the fact that, commencing with 1798, not less than one hundred and fifty churches in New England were favored with the special effusions of the Holy Spirit, and thousands of souls were translated from the kingdom of darkness into the Kingdom of God's dear Son. In 1813 Ashael Nettleton began to preach as an evangelist and continued his labors for upward of twenty years. Dr. Nettleton's life was marvelously forceful and his ministry signally helpful. He was a most Godly man, serious, circumspect, discreet, and gifted with rare discrimination, enabling him to know and read men, and greatly aiding him to adapt himself in his instructions to men's various moods. He preached and labored in revivals in so wise a manner as to render religion and revivals real and respected. The converts, with very few exceptions, were eminently intelligent and sound, and proved by tlieir subsequent lives that they possessed the power as well as the form of Godliness. For seven years he labored in Con- necticut, accomplishing remarkable results, then made a short tour into the State of New York and back again to Connecticut ; visited England in the spring of 1831; returned to America for subsequent labors, and died May 16, 1844, his last words being, "While ye have the light walk in the light." REVIVALS IN COLLEGES. Perhaps nowhere have revivals of religion been oftener or better illustrated than in colleges. In Oherlin College, from 1836 to 1841, was a period which was regarded as almost a continuous revival. Meetings for inquiry were held every Sunday. From 1836 to 1838 there was a season of refreshing never to be forgotten. Occasionally the theological reci- tation or lecture hour would be spent in fervent prayer and earnest supplication. When students met in the most casual way, before they parted they sang and prayed together. Oherlin still feels the power of those days. In Amherst College, from 1827 to 1831, under the presidency of Dr. Heman Humphry, there was a great awakening; for several weeks there was a manifest increase of concern for those who were ready to perish ; then there came a great outpouring of the Holy CHARLES G. FINNEY. REVIVALS. 65 Ghost, and in a very few days the students hegan to press into the Kingdom, and the influences upon the institution were visible and salutary. In Dartmouth College, in 1805 to 1815, there was a great revival. Suddenly, without premonition, the Spirit of God descended and saved the greater part of the students. The chapel, the recitation room, every place of meeting, became a scene of weeping. Most of all those who were converted at this time became ministers of the Gospel or missionaries of the Cross. In 1814 there was a great awakening in Princeton. Every relig- ious service, both on secular days and on Sundays, was attended with a solemnity that was very impressive; then, suddenly, without any special instruction, deep searching of heart began and lasted for about four weeks, until there were very few left in the college that were not impressed with the reality and importance of spiritual re- ligion. It was said that there was not a room that was not a place of earnest and secret devotion. Revivals in Yale College have been of frequent occurrence. They began with the presence of Edward Beecher, who was a tutor in Yale. He was burdened for the condition of the students, and one Sunday night chose for his text, "If the Lord bo God, then follow Him ; but if Baal, then follow him." From that Sunday service in Yale College dates a new era. Many impenitent were awakened and converted, and the whole college was transformed. These are but a few of the many tokens of Divine favor which have been shown in the educational institutions of the land. Since then, under the direction of the Young Men's Christian Association, there is not a college in all the land but has been visited by some special manifes- tation of the power and the presence of God. THE PRINCE OF EVANGELISTS. Charles G. Finney was born in Litchfield County, Conn., August 29, 1792. IvFeither of his parents professed religion. While pursu- ing his profession, the practice of law, he was brought under cgnvic- tion by the preaching of Rev. George W. Gale, of Adams, N. Y. One Sunday evening in the autumn of 1821 he determined that he would be a Christian, but he could not bring himself to the point of public confession. During Monday and Tuesday his conviction deep- ened ; early Wednesday morning, leaving his office, he passed a piece 66 CHKISTENDOM. of woods, just over the hill from the town, and throwing himself upon his knees and then upon his face, God met and gave him peace and joy. In 1825 he started out upon his wonderful career in evan- gelism, and his power and success easily made him the Prince of Evangelists. In western New York the most remarkable evidences of the presence of God accompanied his preaching. Mr. Finney would spend days without eating and nights without sleeping, and as he would begin to j^reach the power of God would fall upon the people so that frequently he would be obliged to stop his address in order to give them an opportunity to find peace. In 1831 there was a special work of grace in the city of New York; thousands of Christians assembled for prayer, conversions occurred in all parts of the city, the churches were crowded to overflowing. An old thea- tre on Chatham Street was purchased, and here Mr. Finney began to preach, taking as his first text: "Who is on the Lord's side?" For seventy successive nights he preached to immense crowds. The bar-room was changed into a prayer-room, and the first man who knelt there poured out his heart in these words : "Oh, Lord, forgive my sins. The last time I was here I was a wicked actor on this stage. Oh, Lord, have mercy upon me !" For three years this building continued to be used for revival meetings. The period commencing with the year 1792 and terminating with 1842, was a memorable period in the history of the American church. Scarcely any portion of it but was graciously visited by the outpour- ing of the Spirit. It has been estimated that from 1815 to 1840 the Spirit was poured out upon from four to five hundred churches and congregations annually, and from forty to fifty thousand were added by profession in a single year. THE REVIVAL OF 1857. It is an interesting fact in revivals, that they frequently succeed some great calamity, a prevailing epidemic, a general financial em- barrassment or something of the sort. It was so with the wonder- ful work of grace which began in 1857; men seemed crazed with the desire for gold, speculation was at fever heat, and as a natural re- sult there were failures everywhere. In a twinkling of an eye mil- lionaires became bankrupts. In such a mood they were ready to listen to the voice of God. A little room in the lower part of New York belonging to the Reformed Dutch Church, Fulton Street, was KP]VIVALS. 67 thrown open for a public noon-day prayer meeting. The City Mis- sionary, Mr. Lanphier, who made the appointment, first met there with three persons, then six, then twenty, and thus the business men's prayer meeting began to attract attention. A call was made for a daily meeting, and very soon three crowded meetings for prayer were held. Such meetings sprang up in other parts of the city also ; the example spread to Philadelphia, to Boston, and to other cities, until there was scarcely a town of importance in the United States in which the business men's prayer meeting was not a flourishing institution, and the leading agency in awakening public interest in religion. One day there came into the New York meeting a gen- tleman from Philadelphia who read with thrilling effect a hymn, one verse of which is here given : "Where'er we meet, you always say What's the news? What's the news? Pray what's the order of the day? ' What's the news? What's the news? Oh ! I have got good news to tell ; My Saviour hath done all things well, And triumphed over death and hell. That's the news. That's the news !" The telegraph wires frequently carried messages between Phila- delphia and New York concerning the progress of this work of grace. ENGLAND AND ELSEWHERE. Abroad the work was also extensive and powerful. The services in Exeter Hall, and the opening of Westminster Abbey, together with other prominent places of worship, meant the leading of thou- sands of souls to Christ. In England and in Wales it is estimated that the number of conversions in the various orthodox denomina- tions was from thirty to thirty-five thousand. In Ireland, too, the work was remarkable. It has been said that in Belfast, then a city of 30,000 souls, there were 10,000 conversions. America, however, was the most favored in this gracious visitation, and such a time as that which was ushered in with 1857 was never known since the days of the Apostles. The results, of course, cannot be recorded certain- ly, nor the number of conversions. In Now York State 200 towns were reported as having revivals ; in New York City all the cliurches were largely increased in membership. It was estimated that there 68 CHRISTENDOM. were 10,000 conversions in the city of New York alone in that year. DWIGHT L. MOODY. This revival of 1857 was a layman's revival. God singles out from among the men of the church those who are to accomplish His will; such men as Mr. George H. Stewart, of Philadelphia, and Mr. Dwight L. Moody. Mr. Moody's work may be roughly divided into three periods; the first, growing out of the revival of 1857 and 1858, was largely carried on under the inspiration and direction of the Young Men's Christian Association. The second period, Mr. Moody wrought only at the united request of the churches and pastors, with their organized co-operation. The third period of his work was largely educational. It was while he was in the midst of this that God called him home. Dwight L. Moody was born in Northfield, February 5, 1837. He was converted in Boston, and afterward removed to Chicago in 1856. His Sunday-school work in that city was phenomenal. The great revival of '57 and '58 led to the formation of the Young Men's Christian Association of Chicago. About this time Mr. Moody be- gan attending the meetings, and by his personal efforts induced more than one hundred persons to join the praying band, and it was then that he decided to give up all his time to God's work. His first evangelistic work was really done in Chicago. It was in connection with the Young Men's Christian Association work that Mr. Moody became acquainted with Mr. Sankey, who was to occupy so prominent a part with him in subsequent revival work. A sentence dropped by Mr. Varley, a British evangelist, to the effect "that it remains for the world to see what the Lord can do with a man wholly consecrated to Christ," was used of God to arouse Mr. Moody ; he could not get away from the thought throughout his en- tire career; it largely helped to shape his life and work. In 1873 Moody and Sankey went to Liverpool. Their reception was not cheering, and their work was not in any way remarkable. In No- vember of that year they arrived in Edinburgh ; here was the begin- ning of the great meetings. Thousands of people attended their ministry, and all classes were reached with the Gospel. Their great success in Scotland opened the way for them in Ireland, and in 1874 the work was inaugurated in Belfast. As the meetings pro- ceeded the interest became more and more apparent; thousands of EEVIVALS. 69 people were led to Christ. For ten weeks the evangelist labored in Ireland ; wherever one went the topic of conversation was the revival services. Think of a man coming a hundred miles with his son fourteen years old, that he might come under the influence of the preaching. In 1874 they returned for work in the larger cities of England. After an address by Mr. Moody in Oxford Hall, to young men, along the line of Christian service, a campaign was planned, the results of which were most wholesome and encouraging. Serv- ices were conducted in Manchester, Sheffield, Birmingham, and then a second visit, on February 7, 1875, was made to Liverpool. Thou- sands of people were unable to hear the evangelist because of the crowds ; the tide of enthusiasm rising with every added hour of their visit. On March 5, 1875, the work was inaugurated in London. A gathering of 1,500 ministers of all denominations had been called to confer and make and adopt plans. At the close of the first month's work in London it was said that the success of the meetings was marvelous, and in its way quite unexampled within the memory of living men, or in all that has been recorded by the pen of the English historian of the Christian Church. On his return from Great Britain, Mr. Moody went to Northfield, there to spend some little time resting at his old home. The Gospel Campaign in America began at Brooklyn, on Sunday, October 24, 1875. The skating rink on Clermont x\ venue, with its seating capa- city of 6,000, was secured for the services. The very first meeting brought together enormous crowds; the rink was filled. Overflow meetings were held ; still, there was no falling off in the crowds, who could not find even standing room. At least 15,000 people attended the services each day. The effect of the Brooklyn meetings was an awakening rather than the conversion of non-churchgoers. The meetings closed November 19th. From Brooklyn Moody and Sankey went to Philadelphia, and be- gan their meetings in the old Pennsylvania Railroad Depot, at Thir- teenth and Market streets, now occupied by the great store of John Wanamaker. About $40,000 was spent in the reconstruction and equipment of the building; chairs for 10,000 people were secured. The regular meetings ended January 10th, with thousands of peo- ple converted and the whole city stirred as it had never been before nor since. The meetings in Philadelphia established Mr. Moody's leadership of the Lord's active army in the United States. Following the Philadelphia meetings the great campaign in New 70 CHRISTENDOM. York was entered upon. The meetings in the Hippodrome began February 7, 1876. At the first meeting 7,000 were present in the main hall, and 4,000 others attended the overflow meeting; while several thousand were left in the streets. The service was fittingly opened with silent prayer; what that moment inaugurated for New York can never be estimated, both in time and extent, and in the results accomplished. The campaign in the New York Hippodrome was perhaps the most important ever conducted by Mr. Moody. In moving New York God moved the country, and the voice of the evangelist was heard throughout the entire land. The great meetings in Chicago were held in October, 1876. The Boston meetings began the last of January, 1877, and both of these engagements, like those in other cities, were a wonderful demonstra- tion of God's power. From this time Mr. Moody's activity seldom ceased, one tour was followed by another, and hardly a city or town of any great importance in this country failed to receive through his help a revival of interest in spiritual affairs. The meetings in Balti- more, in 1878, were marked by notable results; they began in Octo- ber, 1878, and continued until May 16, 1879. It is not possible to speak of the work in other cities and towns, but everywhere Mr. Moody's name has been an inspiration and his life a benediction. No one can study the history of revivals and not be impressed with their mighty influence upon the destiny of the race. First. Society at large has been uplifted by revivals. When Di- vine grace is abundantly poured out it is felt at the very springs of society, and there cannot but be a corresponding elevation; the foun- dations of life are purified, and a social and civil renovation is the result. "What would our own land, as well as Great Britain, have been but for the revival period of the seventeenth century ? Second. Missionary movements came from revivals; all those great benevolent enterprises which are the glory of this age origi- nated just there; all the first foreign missionaries — Hall, Newall, Mills, Judson, Nott, Rice, Bingham, King and Thurston, and others who entered the field a little later — were converted and received their missionary ])aptism in revivals. Third. An efficient ministry has come from revivals. ''We hardly dare to lift the curtain to see what the ministry was previous to some of the great historic revivals, as in the days of Wiclif, Huss and Luther, or when Whitefield began his career. The character of the English clergy of those times is but too well known. Of the clergy REVIVALS. 71 even as late as 1781, Cowper could write, without fear of contradic- tion: "Except a few with Eli's spirit blessed, Hophni and Phineas may describe the rest." It must be remembered, too, that revivals mightily increase the number of ministers. It has been said by some one that nine-tenths of the ministry were the children of revivals. Fourth. Institutions of learning owe much to revivals. Many originated directly in revivals. The founding of Princeton College is but one case of many where the beginnings were in revivals. Fifth. Many of the strongest churches in the world have come from revivals. This is suggestion enough, and but faintly shows what we owe to revivals of religion. Blot out what God has done by revivals, and the sun would be shrouded in gloom, our churches would be vacant, missionary agencies would be things unknown, and distress would be on every side of us. "Oh, Lord, revive thy work." The nineteenth century has truly been a marvelous one. It has witnessed among many others the birth of the following notable great movements: The enlarged work of Foreign Missions, the Bible societies in all lands, the Young Men's Christian Associations everywhere, the Young People's societies of Christian Endeavor, the Rescue Missions in cities, the inauguration of Bible Conferences, such as Keswick in England, and Northfield and Winona in Amer- ica. God's grace to His people in days that are past was truly re- markable, and since He is the same yesterday, to-day and forever, there is no reason why the future may not be better than the past. The age of revivals then is not yet past. No man dare stand up and assert that such times of refreshing as those to which reference has been made, will be not again vouchsafed to the Christian Church. The question for the individual to ask himself is : Am I right with God ? Am I in a receptive mood ? Am I absolutely consecrated to His service? Am I myself ready to be revived and willing to be used in any way God may please ? Thus the duty of the individual man is perfectly simple and plain, viz. : to surrender himself unconditionally to God for spiritual uses. When many individuals in the churches do this, a rich spiritual blessing not only will come, but has come. God will be inquired of, and when He is inquired of in the spirit of entire submission and of earnest, importunate faith. He will not say His people nay. THE PHILANTHROPY OF CHRISTENDOM IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. C. H. d'E Leppington, ENGLAND. ITo have only a superficial acquaintance with the benefits conferred by Christianity would be, in fact, to know nothing of the subject. We must con- sider the ingenuity with which it has varied its gifts, dispensed its succors, distributed its treasures, its remedies and its intelligence. In soothing all the sorrows of humanity it has paid a due regard to man's imperfection, consulting with a wise condescension even his delicacy of feeling, his self-love and his frailties. During the few years that we have devoted to these researches, so many acts of charity, so many admirable institutions, so many inconceivable sacrifices, have passed in review before us that we firmly believe that this merit alone of the Christian religion would be sufficient to atone for all the sins of mankind. Heavenly religion, that compels us to love those wretched beings by whom it is calumniated ! In order to form a just idea of the immensity of these benefits, we should look upon Christendom as a vast republic, where all that we relate concerning one portion is passing at the same time in another. Thus, when we treat of the hospitals, the missions, the colleges of France, the reader should also picture to himself the hospitals, the missions and the colleges of Ital.y, Spain, Germany, Russia, England, America, Africa and Asia. He should take into his view four hundred millions of men at least, among whom the like virtues are practised, the like sacrifices are made. He should recollect that for nineteen hundred years these virtues have existed and the same acts of charity have been repeated. Now calculate, if your mind is not lost in the effort, the number of individuals cheered and enlightened by Christianity among so many nations and during such a long series of ages. — Chateau- ueiand; "The Genius of Christianity," pp. 619-20. — Ed.] No PHASE of our modern civilization is more deeply indebted for its inception to the spirit and teaching of Christianity than is that vast expenditure of energy and wealth in the service of dis- tressed humanity which is characteristic of the century just closed. Not that the altruistic sentiment inculcated in the New Testa- ment solely or directly inspires all the charitable work of the present day, nor that that sentiment is not also traceable in the doctrines 72 ^ ^ 'i« ■ ^^ ft -^ii •• r - ''^i tj iLU!!ilin wJoi UNITED CHARITIES BUiLDIXG. NEW YORK. PHILANTHROPY. 73 of pre-Cliristian thinkers. The humane character of the tenets of Buddhism has caused that religion, more frequently perhaps than any other, to be compared with Christianity. Cicero, in De ofJiciiSf expatiates on the virtue of benevolence. Seneca and some others of the later Stoics likewise reckon the rendering of services to others as among the virtues to be cultivated by the good man. Not only so, but classic civilization was not entirely devoid of a practical applica- tion of such tenets. The enactment of the frumentarice leges and the alimcntarii of the latter republic and the early emperors, which decreed the periodical distribution of corn and oil, either gratis or at prices below the market rate, to needy citizens, not only of Rome but of some of the leading provincial cities also, may indeed be at- tributed chiefly to considerations of political expediency, but isolated acts of liberality among the Greeks, as well as among the Romans, are mentioned by Plutarch and some other pagan writers, which would seem to be hardly open to this charge. Tacitus, describing the widespread misery and loss of life occa- sioned in the city of Fidence by the giving way of a "jerry-built" amphitheatre, adds : "However, immediately upon this destructive calamity, the doors of the great were thrown open; medicines and physicians were furnished to all; and at that Juncture the city, though under an aspect of sorrow, presented an image of the public spirit of the ancient Romans, who, after great battles, relieved and sustained the wounded by their liberality and attentions."* Orphan- ages and funds for giving dowries to girls on their marriage are known to have been established by the younger Pliny, and other private persons, as well as by several of the Caesars. Even in the remote and barbarian North, the claim of poverty seems to have met with some recognition, for the law of Iceland is said to have inher- ited usages for the prevention of destitution, in vogue in Scandinavia before the introduction of Christianity, and in some respects, per- haps, superior to those of the rest of Europe during the Middle Ages. While we may not, then, refuse to paganism the credit due to it for acts of beneficence such as these, a sharp contrast is to be found between its achievements in this respect and those of primitive Chris- tianity. As the author of "Ecce Homo" has observed: "Though there was humanity among the ancients, there was no philanthropy. . . . Exceptional sufferings had therefore a chance of relief, but * "The Annals," Book TV, c. 03, Oxford Translation. 74 CHRISTENDOM. the ordinary sufferings, which affected whole classes of men, excited no pity, and were treated as part of the natural order of things; providential dispensations, which it might even be impious to coun- teract." In the words of the historian, Lecky: "There can, how- ever, be no question that neither in practice nor in theory, neither in the institutions that were founded nor in the place that was as- signed to it in the scale of duties, did charity in antiquity occupy a position at all comparable to that which it has obtained by Chris- tianity. Nearly all relief was a state measure, dictated much more by policy than by benevolence." * Already, before the era of persecution had closed, the colonies of Christians scattered over the vast area of the Eoman Empire were knit together in a bond of mutual aid, administered by the deacons, under the direction of the bishops. When at length Constantine's accession put an end to the time of trial, they were ready to extend their charity to their pagan fellow citizens, until the Emperor Julian had bitterly to complain that the Galileans supported not only their own but the heathen poor as well. There is a general, if not unan- imous, consensus of opinion that public hospitals were unknown until they were established by the Christians. It appears to be a question in dispute whether Fabiola, a Roman lady of the fourth century, or St. Basil the Great, at a somewhat later date, is entitled to be regarded as the founder of the first of these institutions. At all events, what are known as the Arabic Canons of the Council of Nicgea enjoined that Xenodochia, or refuges for the sick and needy, and for strangers, should be erected in every city. On the whole it may be confidently affirmed that the benevolence of the primitive church far exceeded that of even the noblest pagans, not only in extent but also in intensity, since its members alone were ever ready in times of pestilence — at Carthage and Alexandria, for example — to tend the sick and to give decent burial to the dead. If, reverting for the moment to the modern world, we compare the char- ity of Islamism with that of our own faith, the same phenomenon is again traceable. The Koran does indeed impress on its followers their obligation "to show kindness unto . . . orphans and the poor," and "not to oppress the orphan, nor to repulse the beggar" ; and among the objects of the Wakoufs, or ecclesiastical endowments, found in Mohammedan countries, arc enumerated Imarets, or places for the distribution of food, almshouses, and lunatic asylums. Yet •"History of European Morals," Vol. II. p. 78. (4th Edition.) PHILANTHKOPY. 75 in the Constantinople of to-day, where Mussulman and Christian dwell side by side, as heathen and Christian lived in ancient Eome and Alexandria, all the Mussulman charitable institutions which Mr. Jerningham, of the British Embassy, could find to enumerate, in reply to an inquiry on the subject made some years since by his Government, were one Imaret and one lunatic asylum. "The prin- cipal effect," he sums up, "of the actual system of relief carried on in Turkey upon the comfort, character, and condition of the Mus- sulman inhabitants is to disturb the one, sour the other, and im- poverish the third." The Greeks, on the contrary, he tells us, have a hospital, a hospice for aged men, an orphanage, and a lunatic asy- lum. Each of their congregations has a committee for seeing to the relief of its own poor. Thus, when the test of positive experience is applied, we find that long centuries of Christian example and training have evolved in the keen and active Aryan intellect an ideal of practical beneficence which, at the present moment, exerts a marked influence upon the whole thought and life of Western civilization, reaching by reper- cussion far beyond the boundaries of the avowedly religious world. To quote onc-e again the gifted author of "Ecce Homo" : "We are advanced by eighteen hundred years beyond the apostolic generation. . . . Christ commanded His first followers to heal the sick and give alms, but he commands the Christians of this age, if we may use the expression, to investigate the causes of all physical evil, to mas- ter the science of health, to consider the question of education with a view to health, the question of labor with a view to health, the question of trade with a view to health ; and while all these investi- gations are made, with free expenditure of energy and time and means, to work out the rearrangement of human life in accordance with the results they give. Thus ought the enthusiasm of humanity to work in these days, and thus, plainly enough, it does work. . . . But perhaps it is rather among those who are influenced by general philanthropy and generosity — ^that is, by indirect or secondary Christianity — than among those who profess to draw the enthusiasm directly from its fount, that this spirit reigns." Christianity, it has been said, inculcated, perhaps, no more effec- tively than the older religions, the economic virtues of industry, thrift and courage, but it produced a more elevated way of viewing the different social relations, preaching with quite a new emphasis the claims of the poor. In the words of the late Professor Amos 76 CHEISTENDOM. G. Warner : "Charity, as we know it, gets its chief religious author- ity and incentive from Him who gave as the summary of all the law and the prophets the co-ordinate commands to love God and to love our neighbor; and who, in explaining these commands, pronounced the parable of the Good Samaritan." To put it briefly, Christian- ity has shown itself more dynamic as an incentive to philanthropy than other creeds. Where it has superseded them — those even which have accentuated the duty of alms-giving — its effect has been analo- gous, if a simile drawn from mechanical science may be permitted in such a connection, to the substitution of anthracite for brown coal, or lignite, in the furnaces of an ocean steamer. To the influence of Christianity as a moral doctrine was added that of the church as an organization charged with the application of that doctrine to men's daily transactions. The canonists styled the relief of the necessities of the poor a "debitum legale." The Council of Tours, in 597, recommended that "every city should sup- port its own poor and needy." Indeed, the obligation to relieve the destitute, at the present day, to a greater or less extent, is admitted by the leading nations of Christendom as a collective duty of the community; was recognized as incumbent upon the church, and es- pecially on the clergy, by one of Charlemagne's capitularies. As quoted by Egbert, Archbishop of York in the ninth century, it was to the following effect : "The priests are to take the tithes . , . and divide them in the presence of them that fear God. The first part they are to take for the adorning of the church, but the second they are in all hu- mility to distribute with their own hands for the use of the poor and strangers." The remainder the priests might keep for them- selves. As the church in England had already been organized by Theo- dore of Tarsus, Archbishop of Canterbury in the seventh century, upon the parochial principle, we have here the rudiments of a sys- tem of parish relief for the poor. In the later Middle Ages, a kind of fund appears to have been instituted in some parishes known as the "church stock," or "church store," the principal of which was lent out and the interest derived from it applied to assisting the more needy parishioners. The disendowment of the monasteries, under Henry the Eighth, and the consequent cessation of the alms they dispensed, hastened on a remodelling of public beneficence in England, which Professor Ashley and some other authorities have PHILANTHROPY. 77 argued would in any case have been eventually necessitated by the agrarian and other social and economic changes in progress during the sixteenth century. At all events, a number of laws on this sub- ject were passed during that period, culminating in an enactment by Queen Elizabeth's last parliament, which made it the duty of the church wardens and overseers in each parish to provide material for "setting the poor on work," those, namely, 'Tiaving no means to maintain them, and that use no ordinary and daily trade of life to get their living by; . . . and also competent sums of money for and toward the necessary relief of the lame, impotent, old, blind, and such others among them being poor and not able to work." The above short summary has been thought necessary in order to trace the connection between the charities of the early church and those of the state in later times. On this account, as well as for reasons suggested above, it seems desirable to include in the present survey some reference to those agencis which, although secular in their origin, would yet in all probability never have been called into existence in a pagan community, and not to confine ourselves to considering those forms of philanthropy alone which have been in- spired by motives of a directly religious character. Moreover, the statute of Elizabeth, just now cited, lies at the root of American, as well as of British, systems of public relief. It had been in force nearly thirty years when the Massachusetts Bay Com- pany was formed, and immigration under John Winthrop and others set in in earnest on the coasts of New England. When the growth of population in the new country compelled its citizens to take order for assisting their poorer brethren, they retained the machin- ery already in operation in England when they embarked. In both countries, however, the present system of legaL relief has departed widely from the Elizabethan model, though in different directions. Indeed, there are wide variations of method even be- tween the several States of the Union themselves. In those of New England the centre of administration is the town, but in those of the interior and the West it is the county. In the former, and also in Pennsylvania and Virginia, the law fences in the right of settlement — that is, the claim to legal relief — with various qualifica- tions, as, for example, length of residence, or the exercise of a trade, to a far greater extent than applies in the latter. Destitute per- sons without a settlement become chargeable to the state instead 78 CHRISTENDOM. of to the locality. The forms of relief most generally met with are, admission to an almshouse, or poor-house, as it is called in some places, of which there is one in every town or county ; and relief in money or in kind, distributed to the dependent classes in their own homes. As a set-off to the maintenance they receive from the com- munity, the labor of dependents is farmed out in several states. In a few cases, in some of the counties of Oregon, for instance, their maintenance itself is also contracted for by private individuals. Further still, vast sums of public money (money, that is to say, raised by taxation) are also expended by state and city authorities in grants-in-aid of hospitals, orphanages, and other charitable insti- tutions under private management, as well as in payments toward the support of state and city dependents who are accommodated in such institutions. During the year 1899 the United States contrib- uted to charity and education the sum of $80,000,000. This is the high-water mark of benevolence reached in that country. Accord- ing to Professor Amos G. Warner, the public expenditure on medi- cal charities in ten American cities was $1,034,000. The amount spent under the former head by the city of New York alone, in 1890, was $1,845,872. Of the twenty-seven cities of the Union having in that year a population of one hundred thousand and upward, twenty-two gave out relief totaling $952,500. Boston is one of these. Between six and eight per cent, of her population receive grants of about twenty dollars each in the course of the year. In most of the states the placing of children in private families fonns a very important part of the assistance rendered to indigent families. No general estimate of the number of dependents chargeable to the public funds for the whole of the United States is possible, because several of the states issue no complete returns. The census of 1890, however, records the population of the almshouses throughout the states as 73,045. The poor-houses of seventeen states, having a total population in 1890 of 33,500,187 souls, contained 68,110 in- mates in 1898. Nineteen states possess Boards of Charities, whose duty it is to inspect, and in some instances to control (for they are not all en- trusted with equally high powers), both the institutions owned by the state itself, and also those under independent management to which it entrusts the care of its dependent poor. The State Board of New York is one of the ablest and most energetic of these bodies. It has under its supervision sixty-four almshouses belonging to counties, PHILANTHROPY. 79 cities or towns, twelve institutions belonging to the State of New York itself, eight institutions for the deaf, one for the blind, and one for juveniles, all mainly supported from the public funds ; and, in addition, upward of a thousand hospitals, dispensaries, orphan asylums, day-nurseries, relief agencies, and other institutions, hav- ing in all a population of 71,013 persons on October 1, 1898, maintained at an outlay of twenty million dollars a year. The State Board is assisted in its duties by a voluntary and unpaid body entitled the State Charities Aid Association, whose members are authorized to visit the above-mentioned establish- ments, and who report upon them to the State Board at frequent intervals. It is claimed that the joint influence of these two bodies has raised the standard of treatment in every poor-house throughout the state ; has entirely eradicated the ancient custom, still adhered to in a few states, of farming out the care of the poor to the lowest bidder, and has led to the separation of the insane from other paupers, be- sides rectifying many other abuses which would otherwise have con- tinued unreformed. Surely such results constitute a remarkable testimony to the self-denying energy on behalf of others' welfare of which humanity of the higher type is capable. Turning now to national provision for the poor in foreign coun- tries, we find that in England a uniform system of administration prevails, carried out by public bodies entitled Boards of Guardians of the Poor, elected ad hoc by the inhabitants of every parish (or group of parishes termed a poor-law union) in the kingdom. Each board has a work-house (answering to the American poor-house) and enjoys unfettered discretion in admitting applicants for relief. But relief can be dispensed in the applicants' own homes only under the conditions set forth in various statutes of the legislature, tmd it is one of the functions of the Local Government Board, a department of the central government located in London, to see that these con- ditions are complied with, as well as to supervise the establishments belonging to the Guardians, which frequently include infirmaries and schools, as well as work-houses, and to correct abuses. A staff of inspectors is maintained for this purpose, and the accounts of the Guardians have also to be audited and sanctioned by the officials of the Local Government Board. The total annual cost of public poor relief, including the maintenance of establishments, is about fifty million dollars, or $1.62 per head of the population, and the pro- 80 CHRISTENDOM. portion of the population at a given time in receipt of such relief is about 2.7 per cent. Similarity in point of social, geographical, and industrial status causes the systems of relief in operation among the several Junior nations comprised in the British Empire to develop along much the same lines as in the United States. In the boldness of some of their ideals one or two of them may, perhaps, be said to be somewhat in advance of the latter country ; just as in the practical realization of those ideals they are, no doubt, behind it. This remark applies more especially to Australasia. Gennany also recognizes the principle of national responsibility for the support of her poorer citizens. One of the earliest enact- ments of the new-born empire expressly declares that every necessi- tous German subject has a right to suitable and gratuitous food, shelter and clothing at the expense of his place of settlement, to at- tendance in sickness, and to burial. The Gemeinde (parish or com- mune) is the unit of administration. A characteristic of the Ger- man system which distinguishes it from those of France, England and America is that every citizen (with certain exceptions) is liable to be called upon to assist in local affairs for three years without remuneration on these Gemeinden. For making provision for the insane, blind, and epileptic the Gemeinden arc grouped together into Ortsarmenverbiinde. What is generally Imown as the Elber- feld system, according to which a certain number of cases of dis- tress are placed under the care of an honorary almoner (styled Ar- menpfleger), who combines the very dissimilar functions of the American friendly visitor and the English relieving officer, operates with modifications in many of the cities of the empire. The almon- ers are frequently men of very good standing in the community. Among them may be found lawyers, professional men, merchants, and persons of private means, as well as tradesmen, and, here and there, artizans. The employment of women in the administration of relief is increasing, but up to the present time they have acted only as lieutenants of the regular male almoners. A law enacted last summer will place them on a footing of greater equality with the opposite sex. Relief is most usually dispensed to recipients in their own homes, rarely in institutions, except in case of sickness or infirmity, and the legislature has left to the almoners a much wider discretion in the choice of modes of relief than have the Boards of Guardians in England. These unpaid almoners number PHILAx^JTHKOPY. 81 nearly three thousand in Berlin alone. All relief is by way of loan, so that if a recipient's circumstances improve, he may be called upon to reimburse what has been expended upon him from the public funds. As in America, orphans and children of destitute parents are placed out in families in the rural districts. In 1885, the most recent date for which figures for the whole empire are accessible, 1,592,386 persons were recipients of public relief, the latter amount- ing to $21,495,739. Since then the scheme of state-subsidized pen- sions for illness, accidents and old age, which has attracted such keen and general interest among all civilized nations, has come fully into operation. The magnitude of the scheme may be judged from the fact that, from 1885 to 1899, it has cost the imperial revenues $36,750,000; and that, at the end of 1896, 202,015 pensions for old age, and 154,745 pensions to disabled persons, were being paid. Yet inquiry has proved that these old-age pensions are in many cases insufficient to render the recipients independent of poor relief. Other nations which recognize the principle of state responsibility for the indigent are the Scandinavian kingdoms and Russia. In the latter country, the responsibility of giving assistance rests with the General Councils of the Provinces, and with the committees of public charity established at the beginning of the century ; but there is no central control. A commission was recently appointed to re- vise all laws relating to relief, but it has been compelled to recog- nize the practical impossibility of collecting information from the whole of Eussia. The expenditure on municipal and private chari- table institutions (schools included) in St. Petersburg, in 1889, has been estimated at $6,267,750. Omitting the schools, these institu- tions were 431 in number. The city of Moscow celebrated the ac- cession of the present Czar by establishing twenty-three bureaux de bienfaisance for the domiciliary relief of the poor, and obtained from the Czar and Czarina on their marriage the grant of an annual subvention of thirty thousand dollars. More than fifteen hundred persons are now enlisted as visitors by the council of the bureaux, which are erecting orphanages and almshouses. Although the broad principle of national responsibility is not ex- pressly admitted to its full extent by the laws of the remaining na- tions of Christendom, yet in some among them a very active part is played by the central and local authorities in directing and subsidiz- ing relief in certain channels. In France, provision for the insane and for destitute or neglected children, as well as for the sick poor. 82 CHRISTENDOM. is made under the supervision of the Ministry of the Interior, and of the Administration de I'Assistance Publique. The administration of public relief of the aged and infirm, the homeless, and of the valid poor is entrusted to the communes (townships) and depart- ments, and to the bureaux de hicnfaisance. The latter, of which there are about sixteen thousand (and, according to some authorities, more) all over France, form a kind of connecting link between offi- cial relief and private benevolence. They have an official status, but may appoint volunteer helpers to act as almoners. They distribute money, food, fuel and clothing among the indigent (of whom each bureau keeps a register) in their own homes, to the value, in 1895, of eight million dollars. About half the revenues of the bureaux are derived from ancient endowments, many of them dating from mon- archical times. The residue is made up of legacies, receipts from the tax on theatrical performances, and grants made by the com- munes. Since 1893, a scheme has come into operation and is being gradually applied throughout the country, by which the sick poor may be suppHed with medical care and medicine in their own homes. The accommodation provided in institutions belonging to the com- munes and other public bodies, in the year 1889, was 65,204 beds in hospitals, 60,800 beds in hospices for the aged and infirm, and 14,- 921 beds for children in hospices. The Department of Public As- sistance places many thousands of destitute and ill-treated children in the families of the peasantry, and maintains a staff of inspectors, whose duty it is to visit the children from time to time in the homes of their adopted parents. No less than 130,000 children are under the care of the department. One consequence of the wide discre- tion entrusted to local authorities in providing and organizing the machinery of relief is that they exhibit all degrees of adequacy in the provision made by them for the poorer strata of the population. Both the state and the local authorities subsidize the numerous provi- dent associations established among the working classes. The Belgian legislature, in 1891, decreed that the communes must provide medical treatment for their sick poor, adding: "Public re- lief will be furnished to paupers by the commune in which they are found." It also ordained the provision of disciplinary institutions for tramps and beggars. These already exist in the agricultural labor colonies at Merxplas and Hoogstraeten. The Dutch law de- clares that — "The relief of the poor is left to the charitable institu- iions of the different churches, or to private institutions. No muni- PHILANTHROPY. 83 eipality is authorized to give relief to the poor until satisfied that they cannot be relieved by the charitable institutions of the different churches, or by those under private management, and then only in case of absolute impossibility." The law of Holland appears to be the harshest of all in its attitude toward the poor. Nevertheless, the municipalities of Amsterdam and some other towns expend con- siderable sums in relief, and that of Amsterdam maintains a poor- house and other establishments of a similar character. Holland, like Belgium, has labor colonies for tramps and beggars, which are supported by the state. A reform of the poor law is being agitated at the present time by a section of public opinion. Religious and philanthropic agencies are active, and Holland possesses no fewer than 7,476 benevolent institutions of various kinds. There is no general poor tax in Italy, but there are a vast num- ber of benevolent associations and institutions of every description, many of them extremely ancient. It has been estimated that in 1880 these numbered in all 21,769, of which 3,582 were hospitals, asylums, schools, asylums for the insane, blind, and dumb, orphan- ages and refuges, enjoying a revenue of $27,026,770, including the subsidies frequently made by city and provincial authorities. The Italian Statistical Department reports that, on January 1, 1899, Italy possessed hospitals, hospices, orphanages, lunatic asylums, in- stitutions for the blind and for deaf-mutes, poor-houses, and other similar institutions numbering in all 3,188, and containing at that date 274,848 inmates. A very large proportion of the income is drawn from real estate, the charities having been liberally endowed. If the charges of administration and taxation, both of which are heavy, and also the expenditure upon worship and religious cere- monies, be deducted, only $16,903,256 are left for directly beneficent purposes. In 1887 nearly 770,000 persons received alms. Almost every city has a body styled the Congregazione di Carita, a kind of Associated Charities, the administrators of which are appointed by the civic authorities in order to supervise minor endowments. By force of certain laws passed in 1862 and 1890, all charities must send in financial statements to the authorities every year, and the Minis- ter of the Interior, as well as the local authorities, have a general power of oversight over them. It has been the task of the legislature of unified Italy not so much to prescribe ways and means — the ac- cumulated benevolence of centuries provides these already — as to regulate and control the administration of them, and it has aimed at 84 CHEISTENDOM. achieving this task by means of the two statutes just referred to. It is to be observed that Italy's position, owing to her possessing the oldest and the least broken record of civilization of any country, is unique. Her government has simply to control the administration of private beneficence, not to supplement it with a system of its own. From what has already been said, it will be seen how vast a field is covered in most of the countries of Western Europe, as well as in the United States, by systems of public relief; by relief, that is to say, to which all citizens have by law to contribute, whether it be controlled by the township, the city, the county, or by the central government. This fact should never be left out of sight in attempt- ing any comprehensive estimate of the forces engaged and the results achieved in the world-wide struggle to elevate the lower or less for- tunate strata of humanity. As far as the community relieves the individual of the task of caring for the distressed, so far it also de- prives him of the opportunity of exercising the virtue of charity (in the restricted sense of that word). At the same time, however, this very action on the part of the community at large testifies to a higher tone of public opinion. As in so many other departments of life, so in that of charity, undertakings at first attempted only by individ- uals, or by voluntary associations, or by religious bodies, have been adopted and absorbed by the state, either directly or by devolution. Experience shows that this competition of the state does not en- tirely oust voluntary initiative. An instructive investigation from this point of view has recently been published by Mr. Frederick Almy, of Buffalo, N. Y. Taking the forty cities of the Union hav- ing a population, at the census of 1890, of a hundred thousand and upward, he compares the relative proportions of public (i. e., muni- cipal) relief and of private relief. He concludes, from the data at his disposal, that large grants of public relief do tend to check the flow of relief from other sources. But some support may be found, even in the returns he himself gives, for an opposite inference. In Boston, for example, relief from both sources is abundant. It is notorious that the same era which witnesses the enhanced activity of the public powers in coping with distress is also prolific in new forms of private beneficence. The greater difficulty of obtaining complete and adequate infor- mation of non-official than of official charity impairs the conclusive- ness of Mr. Almy's argument. The same cause obviously tells with PHILANTHROPY. 85 redoubled force against any attempt to deal exhaustively with the amount and extent of the spontaneous beneficence, whether individ- ual or associated, of the countries of Christendom. Still, while any endeavor of so ambitious a character within the limits of the present volume could only result in failure, the following review of the many and varied forms assumed by philanthropy, those especially of more recent growth, will, it is hoped, be found fairly compre- hensive. The altered social conditions which have followed in the wake of advancing civilization have effected considerable changes in the func- tions of philanthropy. Some classes M^hose claims the mediaeval church urged upon the attention of the faithful no longer exist; others no longer stand in need, their necessities being met through the ordinary channels of commerce. Of the former, the lepers, for whom no less than nineteen thousand lazar houses are estimated to have existed in Western Europe, and the prisoners captured by the Turks, for whose ransom large sums were subscribed, are examples ; of the latter, the ordinary peaceable travelers, for whom the monas- teries regarded it as a sacred duty to furnish hospitality. A vast number of new outlets for charity have, of course, taken their place. The care of the sick, the aged, and the young has descended to us, as we have already seen, from the age of primitive Christianity, in the shape of hospitals for the first, hospices for the second (and the older institutions usually served both purposes), or schools and foundling asylums for the last. Frequently all three were combined as departments in the same conventual establishment. The asylum founded for three hundred blind at Paris, by St. Louis, in the thirteenth century, known as the Quinze-Vingts, still sub- serves its original purpose. St. Bartholomew's, the oldest and next largest hospital in London, was founded in 1123, as part of a vast monastery, and several of the principal public schools for secondary education in England have had a somewhat similar origin. Since the imparting of elementary instruction, and the support of the in- digent in old age, have become almost everywhere the business of the state, the provision of education alone, apart from maintenance, will probably cease to be a function of charity ; and in England, at any rate, a tendency may be observed to limit philanthropic provision for the aged to those who can show some further claim on public sympathy than is presented by destitution alone. In three directions the improvement in the institutional care of 86 CHRISTENDOM. the sick has been specially remarkable of late years. The accommo- dation has been gi-eatly improved. Separate infirmaries have been erected for sick paupers, instead of retaining them in almshouses and workhouses. Further, better sanitary precautions have been taken in erecting hospitals, such as thorough ventilation and drain- age, and the use of glazed tiles for lining the walls of wards and passages. Thus the atmosphere inside the hospitals is purer, the chances of septic infection and of general cachexia are lessened, and the chances of ultimate and complete recovery proportionately in- creased. Indeed, the new pauper infirmaries are sometimes super- ior in this respect to the older endowed hospitals. Then, the stand- ard of nursing has been raised, and the use of anaesthetics and anti- septics introduced in the performance of surgical operations. Trained nurses are being gradually substituted for pauper, or at best untrained, attendants, even in establishments intended for the pauper class. The State Charities Aid Association of New York has the credit of having initiated this reform in America, by found- ing a training school for nurses in the Bellevue Hospital. Between 1879 and 1893 more than fifty thousand patients were nursed by its alumni, many of whom have since held very responsible posts as heads of institutions. The same movement has long been in pro- gress in England, owing largely to the influence and initiative of Miss Nightingale and Miss Louisa Twining. And, lastly, there has been the establishment of isolation hospitals for infectious diseases, combined with by-laws for the notification of such complaints to the authorities, and for the transport of the sufferers to these hospitals. According to German writers on the subject, the most conspicuous achievement in this direction has been the system devised by the Metropolitan Asylums Board of London, within the area under its jurisdiction. The improvement which has taken place in the treatment of the insane within the last hundred years, and even less, has amounted to an absolute revolution. The special disability of the blind has been alleviated by the invention of the Moon and Braille types, and that of the deaf and dumb by the introduction of the lip-language. The numbers of associations for personal philanthropic service having an expressly religious origin are legion. They include cer- tain of the conventual orders in the Roman and Anglican commun- ions. In other churches, also, there are communities the members of which devote themselves exclusively to definite branches of work PHILANTHROPY. 87 of a philanthropic character. Five such communities are especially conspicuous for both the extent and the diversity of their operations. Each is the outcome of the talent and devotion of one man. St. Vincent de Paul, of whom it has been said that a mixture of ardent charity and practical sense was the hallmark of his work, died in 1G60. Besides raising and dispensing enormous sums in alms-giv'- ing and establishing various hospitals, he founded the order of Sis- ters of Charity, with whom beneficence was to be the business of the religious life, instead of being only a by-product of it. Its mem- bers were to find their vocation in the streets and homes of the poor ; "their only convent the houses of the sick, their cell a hired room, their chapel the parish church." At the present moment the order is said to number twenty thousand members, spread over Protestant as well as Catholic countries. Equally extensive is the sphere of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, which enlists the services of laymen of the Roman Church, locally organized into Councils and Conferences. Besides visiting and alms-giving, these bodies carry on schools, savings banks, soup-kitchens, employment bureaus, and similar philanthropic works. Pastor Fliedner, of Kaiserswerth, in Rhenish Prussia, who died in 1864, was the founder of an order of deaconesses for the purpose of visiting, nursing, and teaching the poor, which now not only has a network of branches extending throughout the German Empire, but maintains establishments in Italy, Palestine and elsewhere. Their educational work is not confined to the working classes. Fliedner subsequently became the originator of a kind of training college in philanthropic work for young men who intended to become pastors, and also for those of a rather lower social grade, who should fill such posts as superintendents of almshouses and labor colonies. At the same time, a somewhat similar work was being carried on by Dr. Wichern, of Horn, near Hamburg. Having first established a num- ber of cottage homes on a farm for street arabs and young thieves, who were there taught agriculture and handicrafts, he utilized it for training young men for work in philanthropic institutions by set- ting them to live with the boys, and to teach and influence them. From these young men was recruited the band known as the Rauhe Haus Brotherhood, the members of which were sent into whatever fields of work Dr. Wichern and his committee should think fit, whether as teachers, city missionaries, or officials of prisons, refor- matories and asylums, and wherever men of the German race have 88 CHRISTENDOM. settled. Thus members of the brotherhood arc engaged in Russia, America, England and the Turkish Empire. The Salvation Army is the growth of the last thirty years. Orig- inated in England by Mr. and Mrs. William Booth, simply as an evangelizing movement, it has bred a varied host of philanthropic institutions — hospitals, refuges for women, shelters, workshops and farm colonies and labor bureaus for tramps and the unemployed throughout the English-speaking world, as well as in several conti- nental countries. Japan and India attest its manifold activities, which, indeed, even include life insurance. A very important fea- ture in its operation is the Women's Social Section, which runs 125 institutions of its own. In thg United States alone, the Army pos- sesses homes for children and shelters in fourteen states, and farm colonies in California and Colorado and at Cleveland, while its of- ficials compute the total value of its property throughout the coun- try at $600,000. The income recorded by its head office in London considerably exceeds this sum, and it has thirteen shelters in that city alone, besides a farm colony at Hadleigh, and institutions of various kinds in several of the provincial cities of England. The Church Army to some extent follows in its social work in the track of the Salvation Army. It also has extended its field of operations into the States, as well as throughout the British Empire, and its undertakings are as ambitious and all-embracing as those of its predecessor and ante-type. It has an emigration test farm at Uford, near London, an emigration agency at Montreal, homes for inebri- ates, for rescue cases, tramps and boys, and employment registries. Its income in 1896 was $465,000. These five societies have been selected for separate notice because they are distinguished both by the many-sidedness of their work and by its international character. All of them, it is believed, include evangelization among their functions. Turning now to the general field of philanthropic effort, we find that it has pushed forth many fresh shoots in quite new directions during the past century; and especially within the last thirty or forty years. The social changes entailed by the rapid strides of civilization within this period, adding to the complexity of life, are largely responsible for the unfavorable conditions — such as over- crowding, for example — which have necessitated such action. But without the immensely enhanced ease and rapidity of intercourse, which is one of the most remarkable features of the present epoch. PHILANTHROPY. 89 several of our latest enterprises, such as the frcsli-air movement, would be utterly impossible. The rehabilitation, as self-supporting citizens, of the able-bodied unemployed and of tramps and liberated prisoners, is a difficult prob- lem, evoking the expenditure of much energy. The Salvation Army and the Church Army, as we have seen, are both grappling with it. The sphere of labor colonies, which should be primarily reformatory agencies, insfead of penal settlements like those already existing in Holland and Belgium, was inaugurated in 1882 by Pastor von Bod- elschwingk, with the opening of the colony at Wilhelmsdorf, in Westphalia. Similar colonies, styled "Arbeiterkolonien," have since spread throughout Germany, until at the present moment they num- ber thirty-two, and have in the aggregate accommodations for 3,514 inmates. The stay of each man does not exceed four months, but is often much less. Of 7,065 men who left the colonies in 1899, 1,548 went to work which they had found for themselves, or which the authorities of the colony had procured for them; 3,895 left of their own accord, and the rest left through illness or misbehavior. Nearly two-thirds of those admitted during the year had been in one or other of the colonies before. In connection with the latter are 457 "Herbergen zur Heimath." These are a combination of way- farers' lodges and workmen's boarding-houses. They receive both paying and non-paying guests, who numbered in 1899 no less than 2,066,544 persons. Labor bureaus are carried on in connection with them, which find employment for about 6.6 per cent, of the men. Local authorities, as well as the benevolent public, subscribe to the support of these institutions. Committees for providing the unem- ployed with temporary jobs, and sometimes with shelter, are numer- ous in France. Fifty of them are affiliated together under a central committee in Paris, and there is at least one farm-colony, that at Chalmette, although the treatment of the unemployed in set- tlements like the Arbeiterkolonien has not met with general adop- tion. Although a state of belligerency is, fortunately, not chronic be- tween the nations of Christendom, it is well that the machinery for succoring the wounded in battle should be permanently organized in time of peace, as it is in the Red Cross societies of most nationalities. This form of charity is especially associated in the States with the name of Miss Clara Barton, as it is throughout the British Empire with that of Miss Florence Nightingale. Germany has a trained 90 CHRISTENDOM. staff of at least 15,670 male and 25,000 female attendants at dis- posal for Red Cross purposes. Of late years there has been a marked recrudescence of the prac- tice of nursing the sick poor in their own homes. It was carried on long ago by certain conventual orders, and is so still, as also by the deaconesses of Protestant sisterhoods. The formation of staffs of trained lay nurses for this purpose is, however, of recent date. It was first introduced in the States in 1877, by the Woman's Branch of the New York City Mission and Tract Society. We have already seen that domiciliary nursing has a place in the public care of the poor in France. Local societies for home-nursing are numerous in London and other English towns, and congregations frequently sup- port nurses in their own parish or neighborhood. Agencies for procuring change of air and scene and suitable nour- ishment for those recovering from sickness constitute another fea- ture of the latest philanthropy. Convalescent treatment is, of course, a form of after-care following upon a sojourn in the sick- room or the hospital, but, when offered in time, it may prove to be a prophylactic against illness. Poor women and children are sent to the seashore or into the country in thousands from New York dur- ing the summer by the Society for Improving the Condition of the Poor, the Children's Aid Society, the Society of St. Vincent de Paul, and other agencies, and the same kind of work is being carried on in Boston, Chicago, and probably most other big cities of the Union. Some of the English hospitals own branch establishments by the sea and in the open country for their patients when convalescent. There are some 350 institutions for this purpose in England. The Children's Country Holidays Society has boarded out in the country over thirty thousand children attending the public elementary schools of London since it was established fifteen years ago. Ger- many has 162 associations for providing poor children with change of air and other convalescent treatment, all federated together, with a central bureau in Berlin. They dealt with 37,479 children in 1898, sending some to convalescent homes,, others to sea-bath- ing places, and lodging others, again, with farmers in the country. Day-nurseries, or creches, in which mothers who have to go out to work can place their infants during the daytime, are a special fea- ture of French philanthropy, though they are to be met with in other countries also. There are nearly a hundred in Paris and its environs PHILANTHROPY. 91 alone, many of them being subsidized by the municipality, and a few belonging to it. Not only has the treatment of the insane been reformed, but at- tention is being bestowed on the after-care of persons convalescent from insanity — that is, on obtaining for them change of air and scene on quitting asylums, and subsequently employment, thus aiding them to resume their place in society. Societies having this object in view exist in the States, France, and England. Within the last ten years much attention has been directed toward providing suitable institutions for two classes of defectives who, till quite recently, have been herded with ordinary paupers in poor- houses or else left to be a burden upon their relatives. Epileptics are seriously handicapped in the struggle for existence by their con- stant liability to a malady which not only temporarily disables them, but may also render them dangerous to others, and yet does not in- capacitate them for the ordinary duties of life in the intervals be- tween its attacks. Experience has shown that epileptics are capable of working together and of giving mutual assistance on the occur- rence of seizures. Accordingly, colonies for this class are springing up in several states of the Union, including New York, Pennsyl- vania, New Jersey, and Massachusetts. Of these the Craig Colony, in New York, comprising 620 patients, is perhaps the most widely known. The same movement is in progress in England, which has a colony at Chalfont, besides several homes. Pastor von Bodel- schwingk, wlio has been already mentioned in these pages, has intro- duced the system into Germany, where, besides the colony founded by himself at Bielefeld, that of Wuhlgarten accommodates nearly a thousand, and is maintained by the municipality. The second class is that of the feeble-minded. The term is sometimes used to in- clude the imbecile, but properly it should be limited to those only who are above the latter class, j;hough mentally deficient and in- capable of holding their own in the battle of life. It is now gener- ally recognized that such persons, especially when females, ought to be under guardianship, both for their own protection and for the public welfare, since they are extremely apt to have illegitimate off- spring, although it has not yet been deemed necessary to place them under compulsory restraint. New York possesses a Custodial Asy- lum for Females at Syracuse, but the feeble-minded are most com- monly grouped with imbeciles and epileptics in the same institutions. There are a few voluntary homes for girls and young women in 92 CHRISTENDOM. England, and separate public elementary schools have been estab- lished in London, where feeble-minded children receive special attention in the expectation that a large number of them may thus be enabled eventually to take their place in the community as normal citizens. Although prisons are in themselves by no means charitable insti- tutions, yet the spirit of charity has inspired a great reform in the treatment of prisoners during their term of sentence. With regard to discharged prisoners, the practice in Minnesota, and probably in other states, is to appoint a prison official to supervise men released on probation and to obtain employment for them. In England a somewhat similar function is performed by voluntary associations in connection with each of the sixty-one English prisons, aided by a grant from the Government. Societies for the same purpose exist in France and in the great towns of German3^ Large numbers of discharged prisoners in the latter country resort to the Arbeiter- kolonien. A very different department of government which has none the less been influenced by philanthropy is the housing of the poor, al- though action, as well public as private, has also been undoubtedly stimulated by the selfish consideration that diseases originating amid the squalor of extreme poverty are apt to spread among the families of the respectable and wealthy. The Tenement Exhibition held in New York in February of last year, and organized in order to show how much remains to be done, as well as how much has al- ready been accomplished, will be fresh in the minds of readers. Dr. Gould, of the City and Suburban Homes Company, has stated that more than a hundred million dollars have been invested in the big cities of Europe and America in improved dwellings. The move- ment has now proved a commercial success, but it began as philan- thropy, and, in the case of model dwellings founded by the late George Peabody, it continues to be so still, since, all profits are de- voted to erecting new dwellings. In some tenements of this class the rent is collected by ladies, who combine the functions of landlords and friendly visitors. In many instances, benevolent persons, fol- lowing in the steps of Miss Octavia Hill, of London, buy up and endeavor to improve old tenements and their tenants at the same time. The movement has spread to Berlin. Some of the capital of the celebrated governmental insurance institutions of Germany is being applied to the erection of improved dwellings. The Tene- PHILANTHEOPY. 93 ments Commission in New York and the Mansion House Council on Dwellings of the Poor, in London, promote the passing of sanitaxy legislation and stimulate its enforcement, and this introduces us to a fresh phase of philanthropy, namely, the protection of the feebler classes of the community against particular forms of oppression or against their own failings. While the above-named associations protect tenants against unscrupulous landlords, the well-known So- cieties for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children in New York and England, and the Association Protectrice de I'Enfants, in France, protect children against unscrupulous parents, and there are others which aim at protecting the interests of married and other women in various ways. Again, there is the form of philanthropy which seeks to raise the status and character, while adding to the happiness, of its proteges through the medium of kindly social influence. It is of quite mod- ern growth and it assumes a large variety of shapes. Perhaps the vas^ amount of house-to-house visitation of the poorer quarters of American and English towns, set on foot and controlled by the clergy of the principal religious denominations, may be referred to most appropriately at this point. The practice obtains also in Ber- lin. In these and many other cases the rendering of material assist- ance is not excluded. Opening evening clubs for young men, young women and boys is one of the examples of this kind of benevolence most frequently met with. Here classes for instruction, books and games are provided, and opportunities for conversation are afforded. Accommodation for social gatherings is occasionally included in the construction of model tenements. Institutions such as these are de- signed to appeal to very different social grades, ranging from street arabs and "hooligans" to clerks and shop-assistants. In planning a club, regard has to be paid to the class for whom it is intended. The more intelligent and respectable the class, the greater the share in the management of the club, which may be, and ought to be, en- trusted to the general body of its members. Evening amusements are often provided in public elementary schools for the scholars at- tending them in the daytime. In some instances societies which were originated for evangelistic purposes have developed an educational and recreative side. The Young Men's and the Young Women's Christian Associations are examples of this expansion. Formed in the middle of the century, with the expressed object "to endeavor to bring young men from a 94 CHRISTENDOM. life of sin to a life of righteousness," these twin societies have now educational classes, libraries, gymnasiums, meeting-rooms, and boarding-houses, and convalescent homes in connection with their headquarters in the chief cities of the United States and the British Empire. In Great Britain alone the Young Men's Society has 1,471 centres, and 103,420 members. The sphere of activity of both so- cieties is co-extensive with the English-speaking world, as is also that of the Girls' Friendly Society, which is controlled by members of the Protestant Episcopalian Church, and which makes a special feature of its establishments for training girls for domestic service. Neigh- borhood guilds and college settlements are agencies of very recent origin, carrying on an analogous type of work. Of these, Hull House, Chicago, and Toynbee Hall, London, are notable examples. Members of these settlements do not confine themselves to direct work among the sections of the community whom they desire to benefit, but by also serving upon city councils and other public bodies they endeavor to infuse wisdom and honesty into the conduct of pub- lic affairs. Hull House has exerted itself notably in promoting the efficiency of the sanitary service of the quarter of Chicago in which its headquarters are located. There are at least two societies in Berlin which arrange lectures, concerts, and theatrical representa- tions for the working-classes. In Dresden and several other towns in Germany there are associations of a somewhat similar character, called "Voreine fiir Volkswohl." That of Dresden holds classes in English, cookery, arithmetic and book-keeping, lectures on hygiene and choir practices, besides recitations and entertainments. All classes mix together at these assemblies, a very gratifying feature of which is that those who help to entertain are equally drawn from all classes. It would })e impossible to overestimate the social service rendered by these settlements and clubs and drawing-rooms in constituting a common meeting-ground where mutually helpful acquaintanceships may be, and very often are, formed between persons belonging to very different sections of the community, because the intercourse which takes place in them is untainted, or at least may and ought to be untainted, with the giving of relief or with the adoption of a tone of authority. A form of benevolence especially characteristic of American cities is the system of "friendly visitors." Boston is the home of this movement, and there are no fewer than a thousand of these visitors PHILANTHKOPY. 95 working in that city. It is their business to give advice, and to act as go-betweens, when the case requires it, between the people they visit and hospitals and relief agencies, but not to give money or any other kind of relief themselves. They are organized into sixteen district committees, each with an agent and an office where they can meet periodically for consultation. This scheme has been adopted in several other cities, though not everywhere with as much success as in Boston. In Newport, R. I., it has been discontinued. On the whole, the opinion seems to be gaining ground that those oppor- tunities of exercising a beneficial influence on the poorer and less educated classes are the happiest which occur naturally in such re- lationships as exist between teachers and their scholars' parents, or lady rent-collectors and tenants. Collecting from house to house for money to put in the savings bank has frequently been found to gain a ready welcome for visitors in the houses of the poor. Where such relations exist, the visiting can take place on a footing of friendly equality which can scarcely exist when the sole and obvious object of the visit is to give relief or even good advice. Accordingly, a tendency is observable among the clergy to avail themselves of these relations as a basis on which to organize the district-visiting in their parishes. Friendly visiting is, nevertheless, one form of a new departure in philanthropy which has made vast strides on both sides of the At- lantic within the last thirty years. This is no less than the co- ordination of charitable workers and institutions into an organic whole, which shall, by basing the administration of material relief of all kinds upon certain definite principles, and by making it sub- servient to and an agent in the moulding and strengthening of char- acter in the recipients themselves and in the social strata from which they spring, build up the national life instead of exercising upon it the prejudicial influence which experience has shown to re- sult from injudicious benevolence. The first Charity Organization Society was founded in 1869 in London, and was succeeded within the course of a few years by those of Buffalo, Boston and New York. There are now 128 in the United States and 103 in the British Empire. Paris has its Office Central des CEuvres de Bienfaisance, and associations discharging similar functions exist in eight other towns of France, and also in Berlin. The leading principles of the organization of charity, that the giving of relief must be preceded by adequate knowledge of the recipient 96 CHRISTENDOM. and liis circumstances, that it must not deteriorate character, and that there must be a free interchange of information between philan- thropic agencies, are thus steadily gaining ground in all directions. Thus far we have been principally engaged in considering activi- ties instigated actually, or at least professedly, by the motive of phil- anthropy. Those workmen's dwellings companies referred to a few pages back constitute a connecting link with another phase, less tangible, indeed, but not a whit less real, under which the genuine spirit of beneficence asserts itself, and which must not be overlooked. The commercial and industrial world, as a rule, preserves a very clear line of demarcation between its business and its charity. It permits its right hand to ignore what its left hand is doing. Indeed, its left hand — that is, its charit}' — is partly engaged in rectifying, or at least in mitigating, some of the evil consequences resulting from the deeds of the right hand. Fortunately, this is not true of all business men. Some there are, for instance, who refuse to regard the remuneration of their employees as the very first item of their working expenses to be reduced in order the better to meet the com- petition of rival producers, and who prefer to run their factories at half time during a depression of trade rather than to subject their workpeople to the demoralizing effects of intermittent employment. Action of this kind is frequently, but somewhat unjustly, attributed to enlightened selfishness. It is alleged that the practical advan- tages of promoting a good understanding with one's hands are so obvious that self-interest by itself demands that it should be at- tempted. In practice, however, there is always an element of risk attending the adoption of such a policy. This is especially the case in commencing a new undertaking, for then the business man is voluntarily handicapping himself, at least for the moment, in his race with strenuous competitors already in the field. To respect the claims of employees while planning how to earn gross profits is benevolence of a higher type than to regard such claims for the first time, if at all, when deciding how to spend one's net profits. On this higher plane must be placed, among others, the efforts of men like the late Charles Robert, of Paris, and his imi- tators, who introduced the practice of entitling employees to partici- pate in the profits of their employers' undertakings, and of those captains of indu«try and representatives of labor who have sought to supersede the appeal to the rude test of strikes and lock-outs by con- ciliation and arbitration. The same may be said of the achieve- PHILAXTHKOPY. 97 ments of founders of industrial communities such as those of Low- ell, Mass., and Dayton, Ohio, in Amenea; Saltaire and Boumville, in England, and the Carl Zeiss Stiftung, in Germany. Immense as is the total output of the charitable activity of Chris- tendom, there is a reverse side to it. Unwary benevolenc-e is the natural prey of the designing promoter of bogus institutions, and even sometimes of the authorized solicitor on behalf of bona fide undertakings, as well as of impostors who feign poverty. Then, there is the temptation to which ministers of rehgion and others en- gaged in evangelistic work not infrequently yield of availing them- selves of the alleviation of material wants as a kind of bait to at- tract '"'the man in the street" to their services, although not a few far-sighted clergymen have recognized that such practices do in reality impair their spiritual influence. Charity bazaars are becom- ing recognized as not unmixed blessings, and as sometimes no more excusable than the ''Wohlthatige Skatabende" (benevolent card-par- ties) of Germany. A graver evil lies in the mischief unintentionally wrought by un- intelligent or uninstructed philanthropy. In the words of Miss Louisa Twining, *'The shortcomings of the inexperienced and sym- pathetic district visitor are well known, and I have no hesitation in saying that, by the visits of those who will not take pains to obtain the training necessary for the most difficult of all social work, more harm than good is done ; begging, imposture, and an appearance of poverty are encouraged that help may be largely given, and tickets and doles are expected as a right, though utterly inadequate to meet the needs, if they really exist, even for one day." In the analysis of the causes of poverty, given us by Amos G. Warner in his standard work on American charities, is enumerated as the last item, 'TTnwise Philanthropy,'' and he quotes with approval the words of the phil- osopher, Walter Bagehot: "Great good, no doubt, philanthropy does, but it does also great harm . . . and this is entirely be- cause exc-ellent people fancy that they can do much by rapid action, that they will most benefit the world when they most relieve their own feelings, that as soon as an evil is seen 'something' ought to be done to stay and to prevent it." At this point the charity organization societies before alluded to step in and supply the much-needed machinery for education in the intelligent practice of charity by holding conferences of charities and correction, of which the twenty-seventh annual National Conference 98 CHRISTENDOM. was held last year at Topeka, Kan. In these assemblies progressive reforms are advocated, the latest views of the best and most ad- vanced thinkers and workers are ventilated, and difficulties are dis- cussed. As the conference is an itinerating body, meeting each year in some fresh city, its educative influence on local opinion must be considerable. In addition to these conferences, summer schools in philanthropic work are held in New York and probably elsewhere. Besides attending lectures, the students are shown over hospitals and other charitable institutions, and are also afforded opportunities of acquiring practical experience in visiting among the poor. In Eng- land, also, the greatest stress is laid upon training workers on the charity organization committees in practical thoroughness and in width of view. The need for such training is being recognized, too, in Germany. Classes of instruction for almoners have been held in Berlin by Stadtrath Dr. Miinsterberg, a prominent official in the administration of public charity in that city, with the result that the students attending the classes have induced him to publish the substance of his lectures. It may be added that very comprehensive directories of both official and voluntary charities are published by the Charity Organization Society of London, the Gesellschaft fiir Ethische Kultur, in Berlin, and the municipality of Amsterdam. To sum up the conclusions suggested by the above survey, there are three traits which appear especially to characterize the benevo- lence of the closing years of the nineteenth century. One of these is the growing recognition of the fact that the intricate and mutually independent conditions of modern civilized life necessitate the most careful research into the indirect, as well as the immediate, results of his liberality on the part of every wise philanthropist, if he would not undo with one hand more than all he can succeed in achieving with the other. And, if this be true of the individual, it is tenfold truer of the association, the city, and the nation. Witness the re- sults of reckless subsidizing of private charities from the public purse without a proper system of public inspection and control in America, as chronicled by the late Professor Amos G. Warner and Mrs. Josephine Shaw Lowell, or the lavish expenditure in out-relief for which some English towns are even now distinguished, notwith- standing the trenchant exposure of the abuses to which public assist- ance is peculiarly liable embodied in the Poor Law Commissioners' Report of 1832. The second is the tendency to develop social service and social in- PHILANTHEOPY. 99 tercourse between the extremes of society, so as by elevating the tone of life among the poor to eliminate some, at any rate, of the causes of poverty, and therefore of the necessity of almsgiving. And, lastly, in philanthropy as in commerce, the city or the state displays a tendency to take over, or else to compete with, the under- takings due to private enthusiasm or enterprise when, the initial difficulties having been overcome and the experimental stage having been passed, their utility and feasibility have been satisfactorily demonstrated. This is a phenomenon more especially, perhaps, noticeable in England, where, until well on in the century Just closed, whatever educational and medical care the poor received was due least of all to the state. But it may also be met with on the western side of the Atlantic Ocean. ART IN ITS RELATION TO RELIGIOUS AND SOCIAL WELL-BEING. Francis E. Marsten, D.D., NEW YORK. [In the ruder stages of national and individual life, men are educated religiously by and through the aid of sensuous imagery, either in outward embodiment or in those ceremonial observances which suggest and typify the inward and recondite truths aimed at — which paganism everywhere uses, which, with a nicer application and a wiser forelook, made up the Hebrew polity, and which the Church of Rome now so largely retains in her ritual — or in those less gross and ideal forms which make the staple of our modem creeds and practices ; and it remains yet a profound problem whether, dis- pensing with them, society could have attained the spiritual culture and in- tellectual elevation which now characterizes it. Yet, with all the admitted advantages which have flowed from such a machinerj', it has been liable to the most serious abuse, when not closely watched and guarded by divine counteractants, in landing the devotee into the depths of a degraded and besotted idolatry. The reason is appai'ent : Between the idea of truth aimed at and the human mind on which it is to be impressed stands the symbol, the rite, the agency, the instituted means ; by ceremony, by pic- ture, by cross, by altar, by temple, by whatever of sensuous appliance de- signed to aid the imagination and impress the sensibilities, which tradition or custom may have introduced and sanctioned. Here intervening as by authority, they gain for themselves a lodgment which gradually obscures the truth they were originally designed to symbolize; and so the agency supplants the principle, and what was intended as the scaffolding comes in process of time to be regarded as the building. And by a degeneracy easily understood, the imagination dominates every other faculty, and leads to the worship of the altar instead of God ; the cross, instead of Him who died thereon ; or wastes the sensibilities in an absurd flutter of robes and tippets of sacred millinery, and the ritualistic posture — putting of head and hands and knees to ape the external form of a devotion which has wholly escaped the heart. — "Renascent Christianity," page 1G5. — Ed.] * * * The relations of art to religion and social progress may hardly be exhibited in justice to so large a subject in the brief pages de- voted to the present essay. The century just closed has witnessed a wonderful development in this regard. Indeed, it is quite beyond all the dreams that the 100 ART AND PROGRESS. 101 most sanguine entertained at its beginning. Plato in his treatment of ideas discussed art on its ethical side. The greatness of his mind is shown by the subtility and depth with which he treats this theme. His masterly delineation has never been surpassed. But before Plato art was. For man is an artistic as well as a religious being; and art has an ethical and spiritual mission, so stoutly denied in certain quarters. God predominates in the idea of religion ; man in in the idea of art. Religion and art have thus a common root in the constitution of the soul, a relation real and never to be broken. There are different systems of SBsthetics, it is true; but in all of them it is acknowledged that the mind has that quality, or sensibil- ity, which is the mind's power of receiving impressions from the out- side world. We may call it feeling, but not of the senses. We see supremely magnified in artists this instinct for form, by which the mind must and will express itself in art, just as truly as it must and will express itself in the domain of knowledge. For the work of the exalted imaginative faculty may not be excluded even in the investi- gation of truth. If it is, we must eliminate the preachers and prophets of the Church of Christ. Even Kant, writing of the valid- ity of our aBsthetic impressions, says that the meaning and mission of Beauty is to symbolize moral good. Ruskin, in his "Philosophy of Art,"' classes the aesthetic faculty among spiritual powers that typify the Divine attributes — infinity, symmetry, repose, purity, moderation and holiness. Art may really be said to be the interpretation of the soul in its loftiest thoughts which rise toward God and set forth his qualities. In seeking to trace the history of art for any period we must begin with the relation of art to the human mind. For art belongs to man as religion belongs to him. So its manifestation will be seen in his religion, and have its effect upon it just as well as upon his intel- lectual life. The relation of art to religion is revealed under three aspects : In education, as a great factor in social well-being and progress; in morality; in worship. In making up the record of the age and reviewing the sweep of the century closed, our survey would be very imperfect unless we took into account the effects of art. It is one of the great underlying facts of human history, and it has been well said that the history of art is the history of man. John Stuart Mill, Utilitarian that he was, wrote : "Science con- 102 CHRISTENDOM. sists in knowing, art in doing ; what I must do in order to know is art subordinate to or concerned in science; what I must know in order to do, is science subordinate to or concerned in art." A study of what we owe to art may well be begun in some such way as this. Let us try to take away the fine arts from life. How much of human advancement do we lose at a stroke ! The spirit and character of every nation from the dawn of history has been reflected in its art. What would be left of their history if art was swept out of that which remains to us of the life of Assyria, Egypt, Greece, Rome, to say nothing of the medigeval peoples, the renaissance of learning in Europe, the rise of Protestantism ? Art lies near the heart of humanity as an instructor. Poetry and art nestle close to the religious affections. Herman Grimm de- clares, hi his "Life of Michael Angelo," "there are three means of instructing mankind as to what has happened or is happening — plastic art, poetry, and history. Of the earliest Egyptian traces all knowledge is wanting of deeds and personalities ; we have only names and works of art, but the latter so eloquent, so convincing. . . . And there is another example : we are accustomed to look upon the Reformation as a movement growing chiefly out of literary antagon- isms. The political and moral incentives whose combined workings brought about the final great result have often been analyzed; but what role art played will be generally known only when the influence of religious art in Germany, and its peculiar nature up to the time of Diirer, has been thoroughly examined and its historical connection demonstrated." Prior to the Reformation the ideas of religion and the contents of the sacred writings were familiarized to the people mainly through art. When we touch on the relation of art to morality, we may notice that art occupies a middle place between Nature and morality ; while it is neither, it cannot be false to either. Nature is filled with God. Art's chief arena is the soul of man, so art must have a moral and religious expression. If one says that the chief aim of art is to be true to Nature, is not the cry of realism that goes up so fiercely in certain quarters just this? Reproduce Nature? Why? Because Nature is the ultimate truth. To demand fidelity to Nature, then, is simply demanding fidelity to truth. If this fidelity is the aim and mission of art, the chief end of art, then, must be moral. Art is dead without moral- ity. For there is no such thing as a work of art without an ethical element in it. ART AND PEOGRESS. 103 And still further, art cannot be immoral and last, because it is essentially social. Art cannot live alone. It is not good for it to be alone. Its aim is to please all. Hence it must eliminate whatever is low, ugly or bad. For it is the essentially good alone that can afford lasting pleasure to the multitude of humanity. It is affirmed by many that the ends of art are not good. It is even said that im- morality hangs upon her garments; that great art centres are places of abounding vice and corruption and bad government. It may be replied that there is bad art as well as bad literature. A gross and vulgar picture will not afford moral and spiritual uplift any more than a vulgar and indecent book. There are elements of evil that abound in all life. But because there are bad books in the world, is any one so daft as to advocate the destruction of all printing presses, and allow printing to become one of the lost arts? No one is so foolish. There are many good things in the world whose abuse has wrought damage and destruc- tion. The excessive use of the lawful and proper may work harm. Shall we abandon or destroy what is liable to be used improperly? What would become of society? Chaos would tread on the heels of progress. The iconoclast has not always proved the world's saviour. Far from it. To hear the warning cries and acrid criticisms of some, one would imagine that art ought to be cast into limbo for the salvation of the world and in the interest of progress and virtue. But is art at fault for its abuse? Does not the blame lie at the door of a defective education, that makes art something that it is not? Is not the remedy in Christian education that will lead to Christian art? — an art redeemed and sanctified for the love of humanity. So we may easily trace the relation of art to worship. It is a help, teacher and inspirer of true religion. But art is not religion. The attempt to make it so would be as abortive as the attempt to enthrone impersonal force in the place of the personal Lord God Almighty. It is the personality of the Redeemer, the authoritative personal will, that moves to obedience, the mother-heart beating in love that awakens yearning affection. Impersonal art cannot take the place of transcendent personality in worship. One breath of trust in the Cross "towering o'er the wrecks of time" avails more for salvation and Godlike character than multitudes of crucifixes, gold- chased and fastened by the aesthetic taste of a Benvenuto Cellini. Thus without prejudice we may see the real relation of art to religion. What has been the case in the past has been demonstrated 104 CHRISTENDOM. with unmistaken brilliancy in the nineteenth century. A good illus- tration of the helpfulness of art in moral and religious progress is witnessed in the times of the Eeformation. Painted walls took the place of books in the Middle Ages. Poetry without words, speaking out from mural decorations, was quite as effective and intelligible as written poems. God's temples, filled with the masterpieces of sculpture and painting, were eye-speaking manifestations of re- ligious ideas and symbols of the devotional spirit. Then came in Luther and his co-workers the resurrection of sim- ple Gospel truths. The teachings of the Eeformation began soon to find expression in art. Diirer, who was a disciple of Luther, in his pictures of scenes from the sacred writings, made his compositions at once picture and text. They were full of the spirit and life of the new movement. These engravings were scattered all over Ger- many by the thousands of copies, and reproduced even in Italy. And these life-like, speaking pictures, with their wealth of evangelical truth, prepared the people in a most wonderful way for Luther's translation of the Bible. Has art in its broadest sense accomplished anything for social well-being? The term has been defined as a state of life which secures or tends toward happiness. If we begin by thinking along right lines it must be evident that social welfare means social moral- ity. If the ethics that inspire life are pure and the laws that spring out of them are obeyed, the simple joy of existence will be supreme. The century reveals that art has relations to social development. It has affected society in four different ways. It may be truly stated that it has stimulated the ethical nature ; awakened intellectual activ- ity ; drawn out the slumbering possibilities of man's nature ; aroused a deep religious life through inculcating the ideas of worship, im- mortality, love, self-sacrifice and brotherhood, by touching the soul with tongues of living fire at the contemplation of the loftiest efforts of creative skill. Studied sociologicall}', we must consider the whole sweep of art as it touches with its divine fervor the industries and amenities of human life. It is, after all, in the last analysis, man's spiritual nature that is ever expressing itself in social activities; and here art comes in contact with social well-being. In the progress of the American nation, in the struggle with the gigantic forces of Nature and the effort to subdue them to human needs, art has had positive relation to the development of character. It has actually done much to render life sweeter, better, broader. ART AND PROGRESS. 105 In no other century has art held such close relations to the every- day life. Physical science and multiplied industrial inventions have made this possible. The offspring of purely creative genius is not the only source of its mighty influence. Industrial art, in all its strivings for the beautiful in fabrics, wall hangings and furniture, has had an ameliorating influence that has somewhat of the moral and religious in it. So, without making any distinctions as to de- grees of artistic merit, or attempting to classify technically, we may say, all things in art which in any sense stimulate the good emotions are beneficial in their scope. Wright affirms: "There is nothing progressive that does not come from some form of art, or from some expression of the creative power." The simplest forms of art or of artistic expression may be helpful. What a change has come over the world in two particulars, in re- spect to art, since the nineteenth century saw its birth ! Protestant- ism, especially in its Puritan simplicity and austerity, repelled the aid of art as accessory in church architecture and worship. Its symbolisms were shunned as tainted with Popery and the devil. Now Protestant temples of worship are the product of the most artistic skill. Neither are painting and sculpture avoided as aids to the devotional spirit. The resources of modern invention have sent the works of the world-famous masters into the humblest cottages and scattered them broadcast over the land. Half a century ago. Cardinal Wiseman, addressing an English company of eminent artists, spoke of the wealth of power and influ- ence that they possessed among educated people. And speaking reverently of the old masters, he announced: "Nor are we ever likely to see their marvelous and multiplied works within easy access of the people." Only ten years later a French Jew, traveling on foot from city to city, sold fac-siraile reproductions of sketches of the old masters termed auto-types. Then came photography, and processes of quick and cheap multiplication, like the heliotype pro- cess. So invention went on. Every new stroke added to the readi- ness and perfection with which the art treasures of the world have become in reality the property of all humanity. Now, by aid of electricity in the hands of such men as Edison and Tesla, one need not journey away from his own village to have the wonders of the world pass in life-like procession before his eyes. 106 CHRISTENDOM. The world's masterpieces in painting, sculpture, architecture, scat- tered broadcast over the land, are helpful in lifting a man above the mere drudgery of a humdrum existence. The poetry and beauty of life thus come within our ken. The weary toiler may transport him- self into a finer atmosphere, and keep company with the great artistic geniuses of all time. Such influences cannot but elevate. By such contact men and women are taught to demand that in their home eurroundings and daily life there shall be somewhat to refine, elevate and inspire. So it is a vastly good thing for the well-being of society that one result of inventive art has been to bring into the possession of common folk these beauties of the world. This sort of education leads people to insist on having not only utility but beauty and artis- tic expression in the ordinary environment. Formerly in our archi- tecture, utility, almost to the exclusion of everything else, was con- sulted. In the early part of the century Dr. Timothy Dwight, president of Yale College, visited New York City. He has left his impressions of its buildings, society, and public works in his "Travels." He found at that date the City Hall "the most superb edifice" in Amer- ica, and the new Presbyterian Church in Wall street possessing a handsome front. But what a spirit of change has swept over the land since then ! It is as true of art as of letters — "A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring." Now the taste for nobler things has become so widespread in this land that it is the aesthetic spirit that demands that our libraries, public halls, colleges and churches shall be works of art ; and under this regime the hideous effects of mere striving for utility are pass- ing away. Amid deformities innumerable art is beginning to lift its majestic and tranquil presence among us. We have the Wash- ington Monument and have had the Naval Arch in New York, the latter some day, we trust, to be done in enduring bronze or stone; such models as the Boston Public Library, the Corcoran Art Gal- lery, and that chef d'oeuvre of American architecture, the Con- gressional Library at Washington. So everywhere in our higher Bchools and colleges the effort is made to surround the pupils with the EBsthetic and refining. Environment is made to include those elements of culture that appeal to the artistic sensibilities ART AND PROGRESS. 107 and awaken purity of taste. It was argued, however, by some, that to take young girls out of the ordinary American home, plain as it often must be, and send them to such institutions as Wellesley College, where they could spend four years amid the creations of art and the refinements of creative genius, would work a positive injury in making such people discontented with their lot, and unhappy be- cause they could not always have just such elevated surroundings. But the real result has been that graduates of these schools have taken the artistic spirit with them, and to the extent of their ability made their surroundings in humbler spheres conform to their ar- tistic impulses. Low discontent has been changed into noble emula- tion. To such an extent, under the fostering care of religion, has the requirement for an inner and outward beauty of life spread that we may see its efPects everywhere. Prof. A. D. F. Hamlin, in "The Forum" for July, 1901, aptly says: "The century which has recently closed was preeminent for its marvelous widening of man's intellectual horizons and for its summoning of the multitude to share in this beneficent enlargement of the human outlook. The summits of learning are no longer walled about by insurmountable barriers. *'Until lately, however, our people have been too absorbed in their vast industrial activities and the solution of the grave political and social problems of their destiny to give much thought to the finer amenities of life. Only in recent years have they begun to discover the extent of their artistic destitution and to realize the immaturity of many features of the national life. This consciousness, once awakened, has aroused a new interest in artistic and historical studies. Yet, with all the progress of the last quarter of a century, it is surprising to note how many people of fair education think of art as a wholly extraneous thing, which it is quite permissible to ignore. People who entertain such ideas as these have had for the most part no opportunity to learn what art really is. They have seldom seen a beautiful building, or looked upon a fine picture, or stood before a noble statue. Their lives and surroundings have been barren of beauty. Through lack of occasion for exercise, and by reason of mental pre-occupation with practical, social, religious, political, and other interests, their aesthetic sensibilities have become atrophied. Given sufficient contact with beautiful things, however, and these aesthetic capacities spring into life like flowers in the sun." The cry of the wage-worker of to-day is not merely for the bare 108 CHRISTENDOM. necessities of physical living. His demand does not stop at give me better shoes, better clothes, better food, but it rises into the files of those spiritualizing influences that are superior to the craving of a paltry animal existence. When Frederick Arnold was writing the life of F. W. Robertson, he went to Brighton to talk with Robertson's friends, to find inci- dents for his biography. Among other places he went to a book- seller's shop, and learned that the proprietor had been a constant attendant upon Robertson's ministry and had in his parlor a picture of the great preacher. The bookseller said to Mr. Arnold : "Do you see that picture ? Whenever I am tempted to do a mean thing I run back here and look at it. Then I cannot do the mean thing. When- ever I feel afraid of some difficulty or some obstacle, I come and look into those eyes, and I go out strong for my struggle." Man wants to realize that his intellectual and spiritual nature is being nourished and strengthened. He sees the ideals and possibili- ties all around him and is eager, in some measure at least, to make his life conform to them. Hence the demand, not only for utility, but for beauty. The workman has been educated and his aesthetic perceptions de- veloped so that in the matter of a kitchen stove, if you please, a mere ugly utility must give way to something that shall not be a glaring offence against good taste. For this reason, we were told, not long since, by a writer on social themes, that a certain stove manu- facturer gave a prominent sculptor $5,000 to perfect for him a de- sign for kitchen stoves that would embody the elements of grace and beauty. That manufacturer caught the spirit of progress that breathes in the century. He knew that people were educated enough to appreciate such things and to recompense him for his outlay. In England, more than in this country, the poster is becoming a fine-art work. The highest talent is employed in its production. If men live long in an atmosphere that is artistic and refined, they must naturally come to have a taste for such things, and be ill at ease and unhappy when deprived of them. But it may be argued. Is not this very demand for higher things causing the discontent and unrest characteristic of our times? If by the use of the word dis- content one means that a man is dissatisfied with himself and his surrouDdings, and seeks to make himself better and to improve his opportunities, this is the way Nature and religion, in its highest expression in Christianity, have ordained to secure progress. If it AKT AND PROGRESS. 109 were not for reasonable discontent the world would be nothing short of a stagnant pool. The desire for better things has in itself created new industries. Men say we should improve our lives in this direc- tion. New articles to meet the demand are invented. Soon a new child of industry is born. Work begets work, and the general weal is improved to some extent. Dr. Carroll Wright tells of a conversation he had with Pullman after his new town had been in operation for some time. "It has been my aim," he said, "to elevate the working people. I have pro- vided refined and artistic surroundings for their homes — parks, fountains, gardens, public libraries, in short, everything that was possible within the scope of my scheme, that might prove helpful for the moral, intellectual and aesthetic betterment of the people." "Has the plan worked ?" asked his listener. "Do improved surround- ings really help to elevate taste and character ? Have the rough and ill-mannered been benefited?" "I have noticed this," he replied — "when people move into Pullman with broken, shabby and ill-kept furniture, influenced by their environment they begin to see how incongTuous it is. The broken and ugly stuff gradually disappears, and the dwelling by and by is furnished with the good taste prevalent in the neighborhood." The time has passed for the political economist to reckon as wealth only material goods, or what can be actually expressed in a dollar-and-cent valuation. A young American college man has led the way into a wider and truer generalization. Intellectual accom- plishments are wealth. Character in its spiritual essence is wealth. The value of a collection of art works to the community cannot be expressed in the figures that that number of fine-art Avorks will bring in the market when exposed for sale to the highest bidder. The spiritualizing and refining influence on the community provok- ing to higher living, and inciting demands that find expression in progress, is reflected in the creation of new industries. More brains and hands are kept busy to gratify the exalted taste for something better, and this is again helpful in the better moral tone of society. How foolish to say that the aesthetic perceptions do not produce anything that can be of value to social well-being! No shallow thinking can perceive the thousand ways in which they minister to human good. To the extent that public art becomes an educator, it is contributory to the well-being of the community. What the poor man cannot buy for himself he yet may be joint possessor of as a 110 CHRISTENDOM. citizen of the state. The best works of the best masters thus come to be public property. And one marked tendency of the age is to keep every good thing easy of access to the people at all times. Let the good things be open all the while, and more and more, and let the bad things be closed. This is good philosophy and good common sense as well. The public mind seems to be directed along this wholesome line of thinking with increasing earnestness. The popular verdict appears to be that there is no time too good in which to cultivate those finer tastes whose bent is in the direction of refinement, spirituality and religion. The divinity of beauty appeals to the divinity that is in the souls of men. It is this finer sense that has in it the very essence of worship. It is this that leads a man to ask, Whence comes all this spiritual beauty and longing for betterment? So beauty of outward form leads up to that temple wherein dwells the Author of all loveliness. Hence it is a good thing that our museums and treasures of art and literature be ac- cessible to the masses every day in the year. It is acknowledged that man's latent moral and spiritual nature needs all the help it can get. The struggle between the good and the bad is so intense that no wise efforts to present to him the highest ideals ought to be scouted as unprofitable. Thus art has been a help to religion and a direct factor in social progress. Though past ages have been such rich treasure houses of art and poetry, the direct offspring of religion, we observe that the nineteenth century has been far from being a barren period in this regard. Who can estimate the direct value to religious growth and training that the Scriptural studies of our great artists have been. The stained-glass window has told its story to the eye and so carried some loving and holy message to the heart that has ripened in loving deed and divine character. For ground glass, or unsightly windows, where attempt at coloring was simply hideous, all over our land, we have the harmonious and finished work of such artists as Tiffany, LeFarge or Wilson, not to mention a host of others wlio have done more or less creditable work. Among the many things that have been done by artists whose themes, in cheap, yet praiseworthy prints, have been the constant delight of youth and age, may be mentioned certain notable creations like the nineteenth century art serials of the life of Christ. Re- ligious art in this age has assumed the form of illustrations of Bible scenes and incidents. Scarcely a scene or minor incident in all the ART AND PROGRESS. Ill Bible story that has not been the inspiration of some art creation. Among those that should come within the scope of this review are the works of Johann Frederich Overbeck, who produced, from 1843 to 1853, some forty compositions. His work has in it much of the spiritual simplicity of Fra Angelico^. Overbeck admired very much the early Tuscans, and caught much of their spirit. Gustave Dore is the best-known Bible illustrator of our time. With all his pecu- liarities his attitude toward religion and the person of the Redeemer was one of reverence. His popularity among the masses may be from his intense dramatic power, which now and again verged on the theatrical. His illustrated Bible, as first published in 1865, contained two hundred and thirty drawings. It was received with such enthusiasm that it some time since reached its third edition. It would be hard to estimate the multitudes of Christian folk that have received their conception of Bible life and story from his skilful pencil. Another Bible delineator, not so well known, is Alexandre Bida. His "Les Saints Evangeles" was published in 1873. The text of the four evangelists was enriched by him with one hundred and twenty-eight etchings. Bida brought to his work a truth and genius that made his Christ reverent, refined, dignified, if not strong. The century has produced some pictures in the realm of sacred art destined to live. The last of a series that we will mention here are the works of James Tissot. He labored for ten years in produc- ing his New Testament illustrations, from 1886 to 1896. They number three hundred and fifty aquarelles and a great many pen drawings. His first exhibition was given in Paris in 1894. In 1887 he had already issued lithographs illustrating texts of Scripture in important full-page plates. Tissot's distinct purpose, with which he set out under the spell of a high religious enthusiasm, was to re- construct the Palestine of the Christian era. He seeks to revive a picture of the Jerusalem of the Jews and of Jesus of Nazareth. His effort is to bring back the scenes that Jesus really knew. His are the only series of pictures attempting to be strictly archaeological in accuracy of detail. That his efforts have been cro\vned with a certain amount of success, thousands bear testimony. They certain- ly have attained to the remarkably picturesque. Effective they are in teaching the great lessons the artist has set before his genius. Their mission is the exaltation of religion. Its lessons they vividly convey to mind and heart. If the figure of the Christ that mores 112 CHRISTENDOM. through them is not as commanding a Presence as we have been taught by former masters to look for in the divine Personality that moves through sacred art, but simply one of a company portrayed with vivid Oriental realism, we may remember that the artist has sought to bring back to us the Son of Man as he really was in the days of His ministry in the flesh, and not as ages of adoring wor- shippers have imagined that He ought to be to claim humanity's paramount love, reverence and worship. It is this exaltation of religious themes in art that has inspired man with religious sentiments. In a world of sin, moral and re- ligious beauty has been uplifted. By this we are not saying that art is to save a world of sin. It takes a mighty personality to do that. It takes a blood-red cross, and righteousness and love triumphing in the light of God. But art may be the handmaid of religion, as it is certainly a formative power in social progress. To accomplish great results the latent assthetic taste must be cultivated, however, just as the slumbering moral nature must be awakened. The ugly and commonplace look out upon every hand. They seek to mar hum.an life and drag it in the mire. By artistic surroundings we may hope to counteract the dangers of ugliness, and by the Gospel of Beauty make moral deformity hateful. Most men of our time feel that there is some Power above us that has brought into being all the loveliness that crowds in countless forms Nature's atelier. Coleridge was inspired with something more than poetic af- flatus when ho sang in the Valley of Chamouni, gazing upon the wonders of the Alps : "Who made j'ou glorious as the gates of Heaven, Beneath the keen, full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who. with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God, let the torrents, like a shout of nations. Answer, and let the ice plains echo 'God.' " God is a God of beauty. Love, truth and goodness are beautiful. They demand beautiful settings for their own perfection of being. The creation of a taste for the beautiful, education in art, means the awakening in the soul of a sense of beauty that lifts it to an appreciation of moral and spiritual beauty as well. Then, one step further, comes an acknowledgment of Him who is the Author of it all. AET AND PROGEESS. 113 Our homes and public buildings, our streets and parks, ought to be made the embodiment of beauty. Have we not here the elements for a crusade against the hideous deformities that abound in so many of our American communities? Ghastly ugliness looks out on the right hand and left, shocking all budding aesthetic taste. What shall we say of the effect of such things on social well-being in our towns and cities ? Filthy streets, unseemly collections of cast- off material of all sorts and in all conditions of degeneration, un- sightly telegraph poles, fences and rocks, with the abomination of Satanic advertising in all stages of putrefaction, and ill-shapen, crumbling buildings, offending every rule of architecture — what purpose do such as these serve but to lower the moral tone and blunt the finer sensibilities? Men who live in dirt and filth, whose daily vision is feasted on the ugly and misshapen, will hardly be moved by sentiments of brotherhood, or by a religion of love, good-will and beauty. SOME OF THE PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS,* ClTARLB^S SiMEOJV. JAMES MARTINEAU. FrIEDRICH SCHLEIERMACirER. ALBRECHT RITSCHL. Horace Bushnell. Phillips Brooks. DwiGiiT L. Moody. [When the man dies, all life's scaffolding falls away. Then only the name epitomizing the life remains. For it stirs our wonder that names alone sur- vive the shock of time. Cities become heaps and empires ruins, bronze tables and marble monuments are ploughed down in dust, the seven wonders of the world perish, but not the names of their creators. The marble of the Acropolis wastes, but Phidias' name abides. God has ordained the names of great men as the endui'ing monuments of civilization. ISIost wondrous, that the prophetic eye, searching out the candidate for universal fame, should turn to a captive nation, to a degraded province, to a village into which had run all the slime of creation, to an obscure peasant's cottage, and therefrom select an unschooled youth, born into poverty, bound to coarsest labor, doomed to thirty years of obscurity, scorned by rulers, de- spised by priests, mobbed by common people, by all counted traitorous to his country and religion, in death stigmatized by a method of execution reserved for slaves and convicts. Our wonder grows apace when we remember that he wrote no book, no poem, no drama, no philosophy ; invented no tool or instrument ; fashioned no law or institution ; discovered no medicine or remedy ; outlined no philoso- phy of mind or body ; contributed nothing to geology or astronomy ; but stood at the end of his brief career, doomed and deserted, solitary and silent, utterly helpless, fronting a shameless trial and a pitiless execution. In that hour none po poor as to ilo him reverence. And yet could some magician have touched men's eyes, they would have seen that no power in heaven and no force on earth for majesty and productiveness could equal or match this ci'owned sufferer whoso name was to be "Wonderful." The ages have come and gone ; let us hasten to confess that the carpenter's son hath lifted the gates of empires off their hinges and turned the stream of the centuries out of their channels. His spirit hath leavened all literature; He has made laws just, governments humane, manners gentle, even cold marble warm ; He re- fined art by new and divine themes, shaped those cathedrals called "frozen prayers," led scientists to dedicate their books and discoveries to Him, and so glorified an instrument of torture as that the very queen among beautiful women seeks to enhance her loveliness by hanging His cross about her neck, while new inventions and institutions seem but letters in His storied speech. * The names are arranged chronologically. 114 PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 115 To-day His birthday alone is celebrated by all the nations. All peoples and tribes claim Him. He seems supremely great. None hath arisen to dispute His throne. Plato divides honors with Aristotle, Bacon walks arm in arm with Newton, Napoleon does not monopolize the admiration of soldiers. In poetry, music, art, and practical life, universal supremacy is unknown. But Jesus Christ is so opulent in His gifts, so transcendent in his words and works, so unique in His life and death, that He receives universal honors. His name eclipses other names as the noonday sun obliterates by very excess of light. — Newell Dwight Hillis ; "The Influence of Christ in Modern Life;" pp. 92-94.— Ed. 1 * * * CHARLES SIMEON : Samuel Macauley Jackson, D.D., LL.D. Among the great religious leaders of the first half of the nine- teenth centuiT in England and America, there is surely to be reck- oned Charles Simeon. His title to fame is made in what is known as the "Evangelical" movement. This movement really dates from the time of Wesley and Whitefield, but the followers of those revival preachers had left the Church of England, and left it very dead. It was Simeon's work to reanimate it and to deepen the spiritual life not only of the members of the Established Church, but as his influ- ence crossed the Atlantic, also of that of the Protestant Episco- pal Church in this country. He also had an important bearing upon the church life of other denominations, and so, although the Evangelical movement as such is now a matter of history, we owe a great debt to the man who transformed the clerical life in his own church and outside of it. Charles Simeon was born at Reading, in England, on the 24th of September, 1758. His early training was not pious, but formally religious. His family belonged to the gentry and were wealthy, and so were part of the Establishment in full commimion. He was sent to Eton and afterward to Cambridge, where his life was that of a boy and young man of his class. He himself confesses to having lived upon a low plane ; sometimes indulging too freely in wine, but compared to his associates, his life was quite decent. It was not until 1781 that his conversion took place, and this was of such a thorough character that he never relapsed into his former mode of life, but was from that hour an Evangelical Christian of the most pronounced type. He entered the ministry, and through the influence of his father and of King's College, of which he was a Fellow, he obtained the very desirable living of Holy Trinity, right in the heart of Cam- bridge, and remained to his death its rector. His early experiences 116 CHRISTENDOM. in the church were rather remarkable and certainly very unpleasant. His congregation did not want him, but somebody else who was not appointed by the patrons, and as in those days it was the custom to put locks upon pew doors, they adopted the efficacious device of locking the doors so that nobody should be seated in the church. Simeon endeavored to meet this move by putting settees in the aisles. They then went further and locked the doors of the church, and he had to meet this move by hiring a hall in the neighborhood of the church. This opposition also showed itself in personal forms. He was jeered at on the streets and his assistants came in for the same treatment. All of which conduct strikes us now as being the more extraordinary when we learn that Simeon was a very popular preacher and his services were in constant demand outside of his own church. The opposition seems to have been based simply upon resentment of the snub which the congregation had received and not to have been due to any very violent objection to the matter of his preaching. But it was so bitter that at first he was afraid to visit his congregation, and it caused him for years a great deal of suffer- ing. He lived it down, and after a while he was welcomed by them and they were proud of his connection with them. He was an indefatigable preacher, a great Bible student, a born son of consolation, a man of most thorough consecration to his church, a man to whom religion was not a part of life but the whole of life — the great subject of conversation and of private thinking. He also had the true missionary Instinct to impart these views to others, and so by means of his university lectures, unpublished and published sermons, innumerable letters, and by means of weekly gatherings in his rooms, which he called "conversation parties," but the topic of which was always and only religion, he moulded the university life and educated large numbers of ministers in his way of thinking. His theology would be considered in this day narrow and ratlier unreal. It has been described by Rev. Dr. A. V. G. Allen, in his biography of Phillips Brooks, as that phase of religious thinking which presented the Gospel of Christ "as consisting in deliverance from sin and penalty through the atonement upon the cross. It was not primarily an intellectual movement, whose aim was the adjust- ment of theological tenets, but rather an intensely practical purpose. Its adherents alike agreed in teaching the necessity of conversion as the first step in the religious life. It enforced also the cultus of PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 117 an inward experience of the Divine life of the soul, magnifying the person of Christ as the motive power of Christian development, through conscious union with whom alone could salvation be se- cured." In incessant preaching and lecturing, letter writing and talking upon the subject of religion, Charles Simeon passed his days, and when he died on the 13th of November, 1836, the event produced a world-wide sorrow. Those preachers at home and abroad, those pri- vate persons whose lives he had affected, rejoiced in the great work he had done, while mourning over his departure. He had surely well served the religious world and fell asleep at last in the sure hope of immortality. FRIEDRICH SCHLEIERMACHER: Prof. Samuel Macadley jACKSOisr, D.D., LL.D. As A MAN of altogether different type, but of no less usefulness in his lifetime, and of a far more likely permanent worldly fame, was Friedrich Ernst Daniel Schleiermacher. The ordinary English reader has probably as little acquaintance with his name as with the former's, but every student of theology and of philosophy and of German history of the modern period knows at least that Schleier- macher was a person of consequence. He was born at Breslau on the 21st of November, 1768. His father was an army chaplain and connected with the Reformed Church. He seems to have been a very good man, but not to have known what to do with a son who was a genius. However, he sent him to be educated by the Moravians, and there Schleiermacher received his first religious impressions. He turned to God as naturally as the flowers turn toward the sun, but he did not in his mature years advocate Moravian ideas. On the contrary, he said a great many things which would hav'e shocked the simple people among whom he had lived. Like many another ear- nest man the idea of God first took on the form of Pantheism, and so when, after passing through the University of Halle, and having an experience of a private tutor, he came to Berlin in 1796 as a preacher, he held forth the idea that God is not only everywhere, but that man is in some sense an embodiment of God. Schleiermacher was at that time a highly educated, independent, fearless young man, living in the society of scholars and poets and 118 CHRISTENDOM. philosophers — and, in fact, the best literary set of Berlin ; but though with them he was not of them, because he was gazing upward, for to his soul had come the voice of God, while the eyes of the company were fastened upon the ground. The fire of zeal to describe the heavenly vision burnt in his bones, and in 1799 he delivered those remarkable "Speeches upon Eeligion" which are the basis of his fame and the best piece of work he was destined to do. The object of these speeches is to present the claim of God upon the edu- cated man. Their very first words show precisely the situation. He says : "It may be an unexpected and even a marvelous undertaking that any one should still venture to demand from the very class that have raised themselves above the vulgar, and are saturated with the wisdom of the centuries, attention for a subject so entirely neglected by them. And I confess that I am aware of nothing that promises any easy success, whether it be in the winning for my efforts your approval, or in the more difficult and more desirable task of instilling into you my thought and inspiring you for my subject." As we look back upon those speeches through the vista of one hundred years we find that their importance has not been lost. They are reprinted and read at the present time, and only so recently as 1893 an English translation of them appeared. As to their estimation by his own generation the testimony of Neander may be accepted. He says: "Whosoever participated in the religious movements at the beginning of the nineteenth century will recognize how a pantheistic enthu- siasm can be for many a thoughtful and profound spirit a starting point for faith in the Gospel. Specially important, as a stepping stone to the theological and religious development, was the appear- ance of the 'Speeches on Eeligion' by the late Schleiermacher. This book was the occasion of a great revival and mighty stirring of spirits. Men of the older generation, adherents of the ancient Christian supernatural ism or earnest Eationalists, whose living faith in a God above the world and a life beyond was a relic of it, rejected the pantheistic elements in the book with anger and detestation. But those who were then among the rising generation know with what might this book, that testified in youthful enthusiasm of the neg- lected religious elements in human nature, wrought upon the heart. In opposition to one-sided intellectualism, it was of the greatest importance that the might of religious feeling, the seat of religion in the heart, should be pointed out. It was a mighty impulse to science that men were directed from the arbitrary abstract aggregate PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 119 called the Religion of Reason to the historical significance, in the flesh and blood of life, of religion, and of Christianity as part of re- ligion. This accorded with the newly-awakened interest and sense for research." In 1810 Schleiermacher became professor of theology in the new University of Berlin, and was also a preacher in Trinity Church, and from that time until his death, on the 13th of February, 1834, he was recognized as the greatest theologian, as well as the greatest preacher, in German Protestantism. Schkiermacher was an old- fashioned German professor, having his say about everything, but his fame rests upon the "Speeches on Religion," already mentioned, and on his lectures on theology. Along with his deep thinking and speculations went a very simple religious life, and the scene about his deathbed was so touching and so indicative of his piety, that it may well be repeated here. Shortly before he died he said: "Lord, I have never clung to the dead letter, and we have the propitiatory death of Jesus Christ, His body and His blood. I have ever believed and still believe that the Lord Jesus gave the Supper in water and wine." Then raising himself he said: "Are you also at one with me in this faith, that the Lord Jesus blessed the water in the wine ?" On the assent of the bystanders, he continued : "Then let us take the Supper ; you the wine and me the water. Let no one be troubled about the form." After the words of the institution he said: "On these words of the Scriptures I rest; they are the foundation of my faith." Then turning to his wife he said : "In this love and com- munion we are and remain one." A few moments more and he had departed. It may be that the evil that men do live after them, but the good does also. And although Simeon and Schleiermacher were in entire ignorance of each other's existence, and the one in his literal Bib- lical views, and the other in his speculative and philosophical views, were probably as far apart as persons could well be, they had one point of contact, which makes them essentially one, and that is, they were ardent lovers of the Lord Jesus Christ. Schleiermacher was always ready to turn aside from his profound lectures and sermons to say a few simple words of loving admiration and profound grati- tude toward that Heavenly Being who had come down to earth to be his Saviour. Like Simeon, he clung closely to the essential Christ, and in this all-compeUing name he called the people back from their wanderings in the paths of rationalism and atheism to God and to the 120 CHEISTENDOi¥. Son of God, and for this service he deserves to he held in perpetual remembrance. HOEACE BUSHN^ELL : Theodore T. Monger, D.D. It is getting to be generally recognized that next to Jonathan Edwards, no theologian in England has exercised so deep and perma- nent an influence as Horace Bushnell. As the sun of one was de- scending, that of the other rose, but has not yet set. The contrasts between them are man}', but none is so striking as that between the gradual decadence of the influence upon theology of Edwards and the growing influence of Bushnell, which actually unfolds to meet new phases of thought. The reason for the difference is plain. Edwards' work clustered about the will^ taken at the point of its evolution from necessity into freedom, where he rendered great ser- vice. But the factor ceased to be important, and the theology built upon it shared the same fate. Bushnell hardly touched the will, assuming its full freedom, and laid hold of themes that are perma- nent by their very nature. His contentions were spread over life in all its breadth, and his treatment of it was drawn from Nature and from the world of the Spirit. Themes taken from such a source will never lose their interest so long as they are treated by a great mind. It is almost a hundred years since Horace Bushnell was born in Litchfield, Conn. Three years later his parents moved to New Pres- ton, nearby, where he was reared upon a farm, supplemented by a wool carding and dressing factory. He shared in the labor of each until he was twenty-one, winning meanwhile a good common school education and a preparation for college. The influence of his home was deep and lasting. His father was a Methodist and his mother an Episcopalian, but both became sincere members of the Congrega- tional Church — there being no other in the town. The Puritan in- fluence, without doubt, predominated, but it was softened and quali- fied by the other strains. There was more of the Arminian than of the Calvinist in his theology; and as he said of himself, "I always had it for my satisfaction, so far as I properly could, that I was Epis- copally regenerated." The beauty of the region about him, the moral earnestness of the community, the purity and intelligence of his home, the drill of work, the play of his own mind — believing, yet always full of question — such were the influences that followed him ■^m--bh^.k THEODORE L. CUYLER,. D.D., LL.D. PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 121 to Yale College, where he entered at the age of twenty-one, a man in years, and beyond his years in the maturity of his character. He was the leader of his class physically and intellectually, a good stu- dent, too earnest for much play, but no recluse, and living a college life out to the full. After graduation he studied law, but was made tutor, and while in that relation he threw off a latent scepticism that had come over him, and found himself, after much struggle, in the peaceful exercise of a faith which he stated in a phrase that underlay one of his main contentions in theology: "My heart w^ants the Father ; my heart wants the Son ; my heart wants the Holy Ghost — and one just as much as the other." Bushnell's life and work were based on that experience. He had studied theology in the Divinity School while a tutor, where he came under the instruction of Dr. N. W. Taylor — last, and by no means least, of the New England theologians of the Edwardian school. His reaction from the theology of the day, which began in college, increased rather than lessened while in the seminary, but it moved in circles and forms of thought that kept him aloof from the fierce controversies that were going on between the two schools in theology, which were chiefly over the will. Bushnell waived them or rose above them, and fell to meditating on the nature of language itself, and so delivered himself out of the contentions that turned mainly on close definition of words. Under such a cover — ^lionestly taken, however — ^he found a settlement, unchallenged by either party, over the North Church, in Hartford, though not without suspicion, because of his association with the new Divinity School. Thus he entered upon a career untrammeled by adherence to any party, with the freedom that a Congregational pastor can claim whenever he sees fit. Dr. Bushnell needed all the sea-room he could gain, for he was to sail far and wide upon seas then unknown, or known only as full of danger. He is to be regarded as a preacher and a theologian. For a period of twenty-six years — 1833-59 — he filled the pulpit and pastorate of his church with incessant labor, ex- cept when forced to rest by illness. From the age of forty he was an invalid until his death, but never did he rest from his labors. He spent a year (1845) in Europe, a winter at the West (1852), and another in Cuba (1855), and a year in California (1856). They by no means were periods of inaction. Bushnell was a thinker of the meditative order — ^not, as is often said, a restless one ; rather was he a steady and incessant thinker, and always, after the New England .122 CHEISTENDOM. fashion, on great subjects. His larger works were conceived in his sermons and carried out in these periods of search for health, but in not a line of them is there a trace of invalidism. This brief sketch must assume a knowledge of the theological con- dition in New England in the middle of the century.* It might briefly be described as a transition from the dogmatism of the Ed- wardian system to those methods induced by modern thought and science. It was a period of confusion and hot debate — one order passing away and another coming on ; a "Wandering between two worlds, one dead, The other powerless to be born." What was needed was not an ecclesiastical leader, but a great thinker ; not a critic nor a destroyer, but a prophet and an upbuilder. It will not be claimed that Bushnell made no mistakes, but — ^looking back — it is difficult to imagine how the work that was needed could have been better done. Even in the light of present thought it can be seen that his shortcomings and wanderings served to win the attention and sympathy of one party and to mitigate the antagonism of the other party. Bushnell did not seek the role of a reformer. Whatever he under- took came to him as a pastor. He met his questicns in the way; but once seen and felt, they were searched to the bottom, when utterance became a necessity. The audience he found and holds is a sign, but not the measure of his greatness. It was in this natural way that he approached his most significant and moving book, "Christian Nurture.^' It was, in its present form, ten years in preparation, having been called out, at first, by a request of his Ministerial Association, in order to explain more fully what he had already said in a review article. Its specific aim was to show that "the child is to grow up a Christian, and never know himself as being otherwise." This apparently innocent statement of what seems to be a most desirable thing shook New England theology to its foun- dation. The book with difficulty came into being, its first issue hav- ing been recalled by a timid publication society. Though charged as heretical, it was in fact a return to an older and never questioned orthodoxy. The New England churches, under the influence of de- * For a fuller statement, see "Horace Bushnell ; Preacher and Theologian,' patisim, but specially Chapter III. PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 133 bates over the will and the rise of democracy, had drifted into an individualism that practically excluded children from the church in which they stood by virtue of baptism. Individualism favored the revival system, which also necessarily ignored children. Hence Bushnell set himself to limit and define the place of individualism in the church, and to plead for the Chris- tian nurture of the young, in place of reliance upon revivalism as it then was. It is enough to say of this treatise that it not only prompted that re- turn of the churches to the nurture of their children which had been obscured and almost buried under other theories, but it undermined a good part of the Calvinism that had shut it out. The greatness of this achievement has not yet been duly recognized. Not only did "Christian Nurture" recall the churches to ancient and, I might say, eternal orthodoxy, and re-established in the church the proper law of its growth, but it no less turned thought to the future and pre- pared the way for those conceptions and methods of training the young which now prevail and have the sanction of psychology and of impartial human nature. No better handbook on the subject has ever been produced. When first read it seems to be a wise and fer- vent appeal for a careful and intelligent training of children; and here, indeed, is its chief value. But it reaches into other fields. Looked at theologically, all its implications are opposed to Calvin- ism— old or new. If regarded ecclesiastically, its implications are in favor of the historic churches. While "Christian Nurture" was the first serious work of Bush- nell, it was not his first volume ; that was "God in Christ," prefaced by a "Dissertation on Language." The key to a right understanding of Bushnell is always to be found in this brief essay on language, nor is it fair to judge him otherwise than by it. He faced a the- ology that was based on and defended by definitions. It was, there- fore, narrow and human, rather than Divine. To escape from this world of literalism and hard deduction was a prime necessity for Bushnell. He could neither breathe nor find room to move about in a world so shut in. "God in Christ," a volume made up from three sermons enlarged into treatises, had its genesis in the prevailing conception of the Trinity. The Unitarian movement had led many of the churches to recast their creeds — as Congregational churches have a right to do, each for itself — in such a way as to imply tritheism; and the 124 CHRISTENDOM. popular defenses of the doctrine all verged in that direction. Bush- nell's book is a protest against this over-orthodoxy, and puts in its place what he calls an "instrumental Trinity" ; the three persons are forms or modes in which Clod manifests Himself. He was charged with Sabellianism — if, instead, the term semi- Sabellian had been used it would have been correct. But whatever it is called, it saved the churches of New England from a general lapse into deism, for the Arian view, then prevalent, had no retaining power and was not long after discarded under the lead of Theodore Parker. Tritheism was too near polytheism to be endurable. Bush- nell's theory of an instrumental Trinity, despite much criticism and almost persecution, gradually worked its way into acceptance, but with a steadily increasing pressure on the humanity of Christ and the doctrine of the Spirit. This volume was soon followed by another — supplementary and explanatory — under the title of "Christ in Theology." Though one of his most brilliant productions, it is no longer in print, for the rea- son that it is a vigorous — at times more than vigorous — defense against accusations of heresy and bitter attempts to bring him to trial. These efforts were kept up for more than five years — ■Congre- gationalism, though sensitive to divergence in theology, is not favor- able to conviction of heresy. Bushnell's next volume was "Nature and the Supernatural." Like his previous works it was an attempt to deliver the churches from a definition of miracles as a violation or suspension of natural laws. This generally accepted view was working havoc in faith and feeding infidelity just in the degree in which it was urged. The conflict be- tween creed and science had begun. A great argument cannot be put into a word, and all we have space to say of it is — that it contends that Nature with its laws, and the supernatural, which is a spiritual world, over but not contrary to Nature, together form our system of God. The old view, however plausible in one stage of human thought, and however consonant with the accepted theory of inspiration, was no longer tenable. Modern thought and forogleams of the conservation of energy demanded some unity in nature. Bushnell gave it in liberal measure, and in such a form that faith no longer rested on confusion. His treat- ment may be summed up as referring the subject to the general prob- lem of Jesus — the miracles do not prove Him; He proves the miracles. PAST CENTURY'S EELIGIOUS LEADERS. 125 Perhaps none of his works was more eagerly welcomed or brought so great relief to troubled minds as this. While singularly at fault in certain respects, it is regarded as the most carefully wrought of his treatises. His fourth treatise pertains to the Atonement and was published in 1864 under the title "The Vicarious Sacrifice." Late in life (1874) he published a supplementary volume, "Forgiveness and Law"; after his death the two were combined in one book, and now issued as such with a modified sub-title. Again we must confine ourselves to a word. Bushnell's aim in this great work is to sup- plant the expiatory theory of the Atonement as it is stated in the Westminster Confession and the Grotian or governmental theory — generally held in New England — by what came to be known as the "moral view." In all his writing there is nothing so revolutionary, and so at variance with prevailing orthodoxy, as the following quota- tion will show: "Christ is a mediator only in the sense that, as being in humanity, he is a medium of God to us." That is, he is not an expiatory sacrifice laden with the sin of the world, but a revelation of God's love and power set to work in humanity for its deliverance from sin by a moral process. I have elsewhere spoken of its methods as follows: "Bushnell domiciled it in the religious thought of the day, and saved it from utter loss by recasting it in the terms of human experience. It is a view of the Atonement that deepens and strengthens life at every point. Its central idea is that it puts the believer directly into the very process by which Christ became a redeemer, and is saving the world ; that Christ does nothing for a man beyond what the man himself is required to do for other men, and that it is exactly at this point that the world is redeemed — the principles underlying salvation are of ^universal obligation.' "* Briefest mention must suffice for Bushnell's work in other forms than these four treatises. He published three volumes of sermons which reached a circulation surpassed by few preachers in the coun- try. "They are to be found on the shelves of every manse in Scot- land," said Prof. George Adam Smith, adding that "he is the preach- er's preacher." Even to-day no preacher of standing dares to con- fess that he leaves them unread. Taken as a whole, they reinforce the general purport of his four theological treatises, and translate their main contentions into everyday life. They reflect and aug- * "Horace Bushnell ; Preacher and Theologian." By Theodore T. Munger. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. ; 1899. 126 CHRISTENDOM. ment the transition that was going on in the world of thought and discovery. They strike straight into life and the heart of things — as though dogma had no existence. They deal with the unchange- able factors and conditions of humanity. For weight of matter they have no superior. "They are timeless in their truth, majestic in their diction, commanding in their moral tone, penetrating in their spirituality, and are pervaded by that quality without which a sermon is not one — the Divine uttering itself to the human. There is no striving and crying in the streets, no heckling of saints nor dooming of sinners, no petty debates over details of conduct, no dogmatic assumptions, no logical insistence, but only the gentle and mighty persuasions of truth, coming as if breathed by the very spirit of truth.''* Four volumes of essays and addresses, with those already named, fill out the work of Bushnell so far as it has been put into permanent form. It is in these volumes that one realizes that he belongs to the world of literature as well as to theology. It is there we see him as a poet — well defined by his Cambridge address on "Work and Play." In others— as "The Growth of Law," "The Founders Great in Their Unconsciousness," the "True Wealth and Weal of Nations," and "Barbarism the First Danger," we find a civilian of the first order. "The Age of Homespun" will perhaps be the longest read of his writings, as an unequaled picture of a phase of New England life, photographic in its accuracy and idyllic in its form. The volume, "Moral Uses of Dark Things," while at fault on some matters of science, is a series of profound psychological studies of certain phases of human life — as correct as if written to-day, and masterly in their unraveling of the ethical as it is interwoven with human experience — "tearing the disguise of a curse from many a blessing." Two essays on preaching touch the high-water mark of all discus- sions of the pulpit, and should be the vade mecum of every preacher. We have mentioned but eleven of his volumes, but a full bibliog- raphy would indicate more than fifty titles, consisting chiefly in addresses and magazine articles. He followed the nation from the beginning to the end of its conflict with slavery, with discussions of its phases profound in their statesmanship and enlivening in their patriotism. When the war ended he pronounced a funeral oration ♦Quoted from "Horace Bushnell; Preacher and Theologian": p. 288. PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 127 over the Yale alumni who had fallen, on "Our Obligations to the Dead," which might serve for all the dead in that and later conflicts. Like Lincoln's address at Gettysburg, it is keyed not to heroism and bravery but to sacrifice. Bushnell always aimed at the deepest in his subject, and struck its highest note. In closing, we can offer no better sign and index of the man than that made by the city in which he lived for almost half a century. He was the ideal citizen. He had fed its life from the first, breathed his own strong spirit into its people, guided it by his counsels, hon- ored it by his achievements, labored for its welfare in all ways, beau- tified it by securing, through his untiring, personal efforts, a public park, now crowned by the State Capitol. On the day of his death he was told it had been offcially named for him. It was the grateful voice of the entire city. And so, at Hartford, Conn., on February 17, 1876, he ended his great, and at times stormy, but always successful, career, at the age of almost seventy-five years, having been born at New Preston, Conn., April 14, 1802. JAMES MARTINEAU : Rev. AVm. D. Grant, Ph.D. The subject of this sketch came of Huguenot stock, and was the seventh of eight children of Thomas Martineau, of Norwich, and Elizabeth Rankin, of Newcastle-on-Tyne, England, being born at Norwich, April 21, 1805, and dying in London, January 11, 1900. His native town was not without its people of culture and distinc- tion and places venerable with age and endeared by association. His father, having met with business reverses, left the family with fewer advantages than otherwise would have been enjoyed had prosperity continued. Young Martineau attended the grammar school of his native place from his eighth to his fourteenth year; thence he was sent to Bristol to the school of Dr. Lent Carpenter, where he re- mained for two years. To no other of his mental helpers does Mar- tineau confess a larger debt of gratitude than to this preceptor, who communicated both goodness and learning ; while teaching his pupils how to decline virtus, he taught them at the same time to love virtue. It was decided in the family councils that James should become an engineer ; accordingly, he was sent to Derby to master his profession. But, to his father's disappointment, he remained there but a year, having in the meantime decided to enter the Christian ministry. The 128 CHRISTENDOM. historical universities of England had not as yet become liberalized, as they still required subscription to the Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England by those who would enjoy their advantages. So our dissenter entered in 1823 as a student at Manchester College, then located at York. This was a college of divinity and general culture, with a course of five years, the last two being theological. Having completed the full course, Mr. Martineau, at the age of twenty-two, with thoroughly furnished mind and disciplined facul- ties, was prepared to serve his age in the Christian ministry; but though admitted to preach he did not for a year enter upon formal work. His former instructor. Dr. Carpenter, of the Bristol School, having become ill through excessive toil, Mr. Martineau was invited to take his place. Though urged to continue as principal of the school, and though he was fully qualified and found the duties pleasant and fairly remunerative, he preferred to follow the calling to which he had dedicated himself. He therefore accepted an invitation to become co-pastor of the Eustace Street Presbyterian Church, Dublin, in the autumn of 1828. This congregation was more allied in its doctrine to the Presbyterian Church in England than to that of Scotland — the Bible being regarded as the sole rule of faith and life. Shortly after his settlement in Dublin he crossed to England and was united in marriage to Helen Higginson. Here he labored and grew and was happy in his work for three years, and finally severed his con- nection with the congregation only because he refused to be a party with them in accepting state aid — re.gium donum — of one hundred pounds. Shortly afterward he was invited to become a colleague of Rev. John Grundy, Paradise Street Chapel, Liverpool. Mr. Grundy, however, dying in 1S35, left Martineau in sole charge. Through a public controversy in 1839 between Evangelical Epis- copacy on the one hand, and Mr. Martineau and two clerical associates representing Unitarianism on the other, not only did the trend of his mind toward full-fledged Unitarian belief become manifest, but he emerged from the contest with a consciousness of power unknown before either to himself or to others. In 1840 he received an appointment as Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy and Political Economy in Manchester New Col- lege— his alma mater. Here for forty-five years he was to toil at the deep problems of the sages. In connection therewith, however, he continued his duties as pastor at Liverpool. In 1841 the attitude of JAMES MARTINKAU PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 129 his mind toward Unitarianism further appears in his ''Five Views of Christian Faith." In 1S48, his congregation having undertaken the erection of a new church edifice, he took advantage of the opportunity to go to Ger- many for rest and study. In Berlin he attended the lectures of Trendelenburg — who expounded the Stagirite — in logic and the his- tory of philosophy. Martineau himself acknowledges that this ex- perience in Greek philosophic studies brought him to a "new intel- lectual birth." Necessarianism now reached complete and conscious- repudiation. His study and travel having exercised a marked influ- ence upon his thought and life, he returned to his congregation in October, 1849, after fifteen months' absence. He was invited to America to give the Lowell lectures, but the civil war prevented him carrying out the engagement. In 1858 Manchester New College was transferred to London. This made Martineau's task more la- borious, as it increased the distance which he constantly required to travel. He continued his double labors, however, four years longer, when he was invited to London in order that he might devote his entire time to his college work. He reluctantly severed his pastoral relationship with his church in Liverpool after a ministry of twenty- five years. In 1858 he became joint pastor with Dr. J. J. Tayler, of Little Portland Street Unitarian Chapel, while still continuing the duties of his professorship. This chapel, it is said, wr.s plain almost to rudeness, and had accommodation for about five hundred people, yet it soon became a centre for some of the most thoughtful and cultured people in London, attracted thither by the intellectual power and spiritual vision of Professor Martineau. In 1869 Mar- tineau became principal of the college and sole preacher at the chapel^ where he continued to minister till 1872. She who for so many years had been the partner of his struggles and triumphs, of his sorrows and joys, faded and died in 1877, leav- ing him to face the remaining years alone. Having served his alma mater so faithfully and acceptably for five and forty years, at the age of eighty he desired to be released. His request was reluctantly granted, yet for three more years he remained on the Board of Direction. His retirement from public office, hoAvever, was in no sense due to enfeeblement of mind or lack of interest in public af- fairs; rather was it that he might have greater leisure for the com- pletion of those literary tasks which, when eventually finished, made- him at once the wonder and the hero of the public. 130 CHRISTENDOM. An incident characteristic of the large tolerance of Martineau oc- curred in connection with the formation of the Metaphysical So- ciety, of which he was a member. Shortly before his death he was visited by a correspondent of "The Westminster Gazette," to whom he spoke, among other things, of the famous Metaphysical Society. He said that the formation of the society Avas indirectly due to Tennyson, who, in 1869, had expressed a wish to the present editor of "The Nineteenth Century"' for the formation of some society which would put down agnosticism. Mr. Knowles thereupon went in quest of men whom he thought likely to join, Dr. Martineau among them. But Dr. Martineau objected to the militant character of the proposed society, and said that he did not believe in putting down theories, however he might differ from them. He suggested that certain well-known men with agnostic views should be asked to join, and that the society should thus consist of men of different types of thought, who, by interchange of opinion and mutual criti- cism, might possibly help one another. As a result of this the Meta- physical Society was formed, and ultimately numbered about fifty notable names, including Tennyson, Huxley, Tyndall, Jolin Morley, F. D. Maurice Manning, W. G. Ward, Gladstone, R. H. Hutton, Frederic Harrison, and many other illustrious men. Professor Huxley remarked regarding this society : "We thought at first it would be a case of Kilkenny cats. Hats and coats would be left in the hall before the meeting, but there would be no wearers left ^fter it was over to put them on again. Instead, we came to love -each other like brothers. We all expended so much charity, that had it been money we should have been bankrupt." We are told by his biographer that in his figure Dr. Martineau was tall and spare. Of adipose tissue he had no superfluity. One meeting him in later years would observe a slight stoop, though it seemed rather the stoop of the scholar than tliat of the octogenarian. His features were thin, his complexion was delicate. His eyes, which were changeful blue, were not particularly noticeable until he became animated ; then his very soul seemed shining through them. His head was not much beyond the average in size, but compact and perfect in its poise. His perceptive organs were large; his hair, always remarkable for abundance, was, in later years, bleached al- most to whiteness. The soul of neatness himself, he could not en- dure untidiness in others. He had no artificial appetites; tobacco he never used ; without being pledged to total abstinence, he seldom PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 131 used wines or liquors, except for medicinal purposes. Intemperate he may have been in work, if that may be called intemperate which, though vast in amount, was sustained to extreme age. All his pleasures were of a rational and ennobling sort. Good art he appre- ciated; he enjoyed music and sought it for its solace; he delighted in conversation with the wise and good. He had a fondness for moun- tain scenery, and a favorite diversion of his was walking. In his seventy-eighth year he wrote of the "annual delight" not yet forbid- den him of "reaching the chief summits of the Cairngorm moun- tains." His biographer tells us that it was his privilege to form acquaint- ance with James Martineau in extreme age. "Of course, I expected to meet a scholar, but a scholar may be a Johnson; I knew I was to confront a thinker, but a thinker may be a Schopenhauer; I held him a man of genius, but a genius may be a Byron or a Carlyle." These examples only serve for contrast. "Over against the coarse- ness of Johnson one saw in Martineau refinement refined. In con- trast with the selfishness of Schopenhauer, one saw in him consider- ation for others that was almost self-effacement. In place of the cynicism of Byron one met in him the serenest charity; instead of Carlyle's rudeness, the soul of courtesy and grace." The biog- rapher adds : "The happy discovery was made that Martineau's greatness was of the kind that lifts, but does not overpower. Of the (juiet hours spent with him I need not tell. Suffice that they fixed in my mind the impression of a sage, a hero and a saint ; of one who might converse with Plato and dare with Luther and revere with Tauler, an habitue of the academy, who thrilled to the Categorical Imperative and who knelt at the Cross." Some one has designated his as a grand life, which seemed to have realized almost perfectly our modern conception of a wise and a good man ; a man who, "unhasting, unresting," pursued the truth, with unreserved fidelity and humility, from early youth to the ex- tremest verge of mortal years; a calm, steadfast, loftily devoted teacher and example of righteous living without asceticism, and of piety without a shadow of superstition. Francjs Power Cobbe says of his preaching : "The general effect, I used to think, was not that of receiving lessons from a teacher, but of being invited to accompany a guide on a mountain walk. From the upper regions of thought where he led us we were able — ^nay, compelled — to look down on our daily cares and duties from a 132 CHEISTENDOM. loftier point of view ; and thence to return to them with fresh feelings and resolutions. The exercise of climbing after hira^ if laborious, was to the last degree mentallj^ healthful and morally strengthening. To hear one of his wonderful sermons only, a listener would come away deeming the preacher par eminence a profound and most dis- criminating critic. To hear another, he would consider him a phil- osopher, occupied entirely with the va^jtest problems of scieijce and theology. Again, another would leave the impression of a poet, as great in his prose as the author of 'In Memoriam' in verse. And lastly and above all, there was always the pious man filled with devout feeling, who, by his very presence and voice, communicated rever- ence and the sense of the nearness of an all-seeing God. Martineau no more assumed the tone of a prophet than of a priest; not even that of a didactic teacher; but only, as said above, of a guide. He seemed always to say to us : 'Come with me and I will show you what I have seen from the mountain tops.' Of preaching he said, 'It has been my life.' " Some idea may be gathered respecting Martineau's literary activi- ties by reviewing the following list of publications : In the first place he issued three hymn-books — one in Dublin, 1831 ; a second in Liverpool, 1840 ; a third in London, 1874. He pub- lished in 1836 his "Eationale of Religious Inquiry" — concise, strong, earnest and elevated. Here he treats familiar themes with the fresh- ness of original thought ; pleading, with something of prophetic bold- ness, for rationalism in distinction from orthodoxy. In 1843 ap- peared the first series, and in 1847 the second series, of "Endeavors After the Christian Life." These two volumes were selections from bis pulpit discourses — far above the regions of controversy, he brin^ God's message to the faiths and hopes of men. In Boston, in 1852, appeared a volume entitled "Miscellaneous"; in 1858, a second en- titled "Studies of Christianity." In 1866-67 Spencer, of Boston, brought out two volumes under the title "Essays Theological and Philosophical." In 1876 and 1879 Martineau published the first and second series of "Hours of Thought on Sacred Things." In 1882 his volume on Spinoza appeared, "embracing the pleasantest account of his life, and the toughest analysis of liis doctrine." In 1885, when eighty years of age, "Types of Ethical Theory" was is- sued in two volumes. In this work ethical systems are shown to take their origin either from the study of the universe or from the study of man. In 1888, at the age of eighty-three, he published his PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 133 "Study of Religion" in two volumes, which proved to be one of the strongest defences of fundamental truth. If his "Types of Ethical Theory" had brought him to a leading place among moral philoso- phers, this last work placed hira in the foremost rank of philosophers of religion. Religion is here defined as, "Belief in an Ever-living God, that is, a Divine Mind and Will, ruling the universe, and hold- ing moral relations with mankind." With the publication of this great work it was supposed his literary labors would cease ; two years later, however, in 1890, to the astonishment of his friends and the public, he issued the "Seat of Authority in Religion." This, "in range of knowledge, in keenness of insight, vigor of statement or nobility of feeling falls behind its predecessors in no particular." The seat of authority in religion he finds not with the Roman Catholic in an infallible church, nor with the Protestant in an in- fallible Bible — both these seats of authority being outward — but he finds the seat of authority within. It is not enough that a dictum be true, in order that I may receive it ; it must be true to me. Mar- tineau does not claim, however, for all men the ability to find thi"s warrant within. He finds it in what he terms the "summit minds" which, through the unity of the race, represtmt the unfolded possi- bilities to all — the dimmer being dependent upon the clearer vision; the child upon the parent ; the pupil upon his teacher. Eventually, however, the child gives up parental guidance, the pupil outstrips his master. In science, Agassiz may be exchanged for Darwin, and Compte for Spencer. But not thus are we permitted to treat the church or the Bible, which speaks from above reason and demands its surrender rather than seeks its persuasion. Undoubtedl}^ the pre- dilection of most men is for an ouUvard authority, a voice that speaks to them a decisive word. "As the non-use of any faculty or power, however, means its enfeeblement and decay at last, the revelation that should supersede the hard exercise of reason and conscience, in the determination of ultimate truth, were not God's blessing, but his curse." Still there followed further literarv' efforts, though of a less ar- duous character; four goodly volumes of selected papers under the title of "Essays, Reviews and Addresses," and lastly came a volume of "Home Prayei^" — ^his pax vohiscum. James Martineau's life had yet other years before it. But here the story of his labors ends. He lived, as we have said, until January 11, 1900, and even the last decade of his life was not a period of idle- 134 CHRISTENDOM. ness. When Balfour's "Foundations of Belief" VTa?. published, Mar- tineau, although at the great age of 90, contributed to the "Nine- teenth Century" an elaborate discussion of the ntw book's contents, which showed clearly that "his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated." As may be supposed, Martineau was a remarkable worker, both in amount and variety ; a man of diversified capacities and exceptional acquisitive power ; at home alike in the departments of mathematics, science, history, political economy, religious institutions, biblical criticism, ethics and pliilosophy. Before me is a record of more than twenty distinct volumes to which his name is attached, any one of ten of which would have made him noteworthy. "He had manv a teacher, but never a master." He was a logician rather than a di- vine, a Mill rather than an Emerson, yet his intellect combined the power of both the telescope and the microscope, equal to solar sys- tems of thought and the finest reticulations of argument. "To apply a fundamental truth to diverse problems of human interest, to prove systems by their congruity with it, to build by it so that his structure in all its parts should be like the tree whose roots, trunk, branches, twigs, leaves, are informed by one life, was the aim by which his noblest labors were accomplished." A preacher for 73 years, a professor for 45 years, a professor and pastor for 33 years, an author for 64 years, whose last work appearecJ when he was 83, and whose last review was penned when he was 90 years of age, has some right to be called remarkable. His theological bent was always Unitarian, though he refused to be identified with Unitarianism ecclesiastically. He was early in- fluenced by Charming. Though so commonplace in our day, to the contemporaries of Channing his thought came with the force of a fresh inspiration. Writing to his friend Thom regarding Channing, Martineau says : "Othere had taught me much ; no one before had unsealed the fountain itself, he was the first to touch the spring of living water and make me independent even of himself." To Mar- tineau the Scriptures were perfectly human in their origin though recording superhuman events; inspiration being, not mechanical, but "illumination of the spirit in direct contact with God." He drew his religious faith from the words of Christ — a "unique" per- sonage— who was the central orb of his system and to whom his heart was fixed in loyalty and love. To him the Christianity of Christ is without priest and without ritual. PAST CENTURY'S EELIGIOUS LEADERS. 135 He viewed God as both immanent and transcendent, making possi- ble His full communion with the spirit of man — mind responsive to mind, affection answering to affection; and though the one be infinite and the other finite, the disparity makes the grace no less possible. Nay, he would contend of all persons in the universe, God is the most easily accessible. He would therefore make love to God the basis and the bond of fellowship and not opinions either Trinitarian or Uni- tarian. "It is the conscious sameness of spiritual relation that con- stitutes a church ; it is the temporary concurrence in theological opin- ion that embodies itself in a creed and makes a sect in the proper sense. The former is unity in spite of difference, the essence of the latter being in the accentuation of dffference amid unity. "Be faithful to your intellect; seek the truth with all earnestness, and proclaim it with all fervor. But building a church, the central figure of which should be an altar, not a doctrine, make basal and prominent the truth that unites, not the speculation that divided. You hold to the Love of God and the Divine Unity ; hold fast to the Divine Unity, but rear your church on the love of God. Let the doc- trine be your personal conviction ; let the love be your public conf es- Bion. In the one you hold to a theory in which a few shall agree with you, in the other to a sentiment in which Christendom is at one with you. Others by dogmatic barriers keep you away from them ; see to it that by no dogmatic barrier do you hold them away from you."* Noble words ! noble words ! The fathers may conceive that they are building for the sons, but the sons will excommunicate the fathers. Others would build upon a doctrine, he upon a reverence and a love. In responding, upon his eightieth birthday, to the greetings of the National Conference of English Unitarians, he declared his belief that "the true religious life supplies grounds of sympathy and asso- ciation deeper and wiser than can be expressed by any doctrinal names or formulas, and that free play can never be given to these spiritual affinities till all stipulation, direct or implied, for specified agreement in theological opinion, is discarded from the bases of church union." Dr. Martineau himself, however, did not expect any realinement of ecclesiastical' organizations in his day, but his teachings have had a profound effect on the thought of organized Christianity, sweet- ening, humanizing, and, if we may say so. Christianizing it. So that, while the old forms are still retained, and perhaps wisely, the * .Jackson's " Life of Martineau, " page 215. 136 CHRISTENDOM. spirit animating them is less mechanical and less intent on merely perpetuating the ecclesiastical machine as the supreine function of religion. Academic honors were slow in coming to Mr. Martineau, but they came. In 1872 Harvard University conferred upon him an LL.D. degree. Two 3^ears later the University of Leyden gave him an S.T.D. degree. Somewhat later Edinburgh made him a D.D. Later still, Oxford honored him with a D.C.L. Last of all, Dublin Uni- versity bestowed upon him a Litt.D. In 1872 there came to him a worthy testimonial of esteem. At the close of the college session. as he was about leaving London, a check for 5,000 guineas was placed in his hand, with the intijnation that there was more to come. The sums that flowed in later swelled the amount to £5,900, a por- tion of which was devoted to the purchase of two pieces of silver plate on which was engraved a suitable inscription. Accompanying the gift was an address, to which Mr. IVIartineau replied : "You speak of mingled motives of this splendid gift. So far as it springs from personal friendship and generous affection it can bring me, however I may wonder at it, only the sincerest joy. But to accept it as an arrears of justice overdue would be to charge a wrong upon the past which I can in no way own. Far from having any claim to plead, I am conscious that, in account of services ex- changed, I am debtor to the world, and not the world to me; and am half ashamed to have escaped so many of the privations on which I reckoned when I quitted a secular profession for the Christian min- istry. My deepest disappointrnxcnt has been from myself and not from others, from whose hands I have suffered no grievance I did not deserve, and received kindness far beyond the measure of my boldest hopes. Whoever dedicates himself to bear witness to divine things is the least consistent of men, if he does not lay his account for a modest scale of outward life, and a frequent conflict with re- sisting interests and opinions. Such incidents of wholesome diffi- culty attending the study and exposition of moral and religious truth are an essential guarantee that its service shall be one of disinter- •ested love."* A little later, on his retirement from the Little Port- land Street Chapel, the congregation to which he ministered pre- sented him with the sum of £3,500, described as a token of "grati- tude, respect and admiration." We should here note that soon after the publication of the "Study ♦".Tames Martinoau"; A. W. .Tackson, M.A.. page 101. PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 137 of Religion," a movement was set on foot under the guidance of Prof. William Knight, of the University of St. Andrews, to greet the author on his eighty-third birthday with an appropriate tribute. The form decided on was that of an address signed by leading schol- ars and thinkers of Europe and America, without distinction of sect or party. The address, drawn up and sent to various friends for criticism, received its final revision at the hand of Benjamin Jowett. After the introductory paragraph it went on to say : "We thank you for the help which you have given to those who seek to combine the love of truth with the Christian life ; we recognize the great services which you have rendered to the study of the philosophy of religion ; and we congratulate you on having completed recently two great and important works at an age when most men, if their days are pro- longed, find it necessary to rest from their labors. You have taught your generation that, both in politics and religion, there are truths above party, independent of contemporary opinion, and which can- not be overthrown, for their foundations are in the heart of man; you have shown that there may be an inward unity transcending the divisions of the Christian world, and that the charity and sympathy of Christians are not to be limited to those who bear the name of Christ ; you have sought to harmonize the laws of the spiritual with those of the natural world, and to give to each their due place in human life ; you have preached a Christianity of the spirit, and not of the letter, which is inseparable from morality ; you have spoken to us of a hope beyond this world ; you have given rest to the minds of many." The address bore between 600 and 700 signatures of those whose praise was fame. The first signature was that of Tennyson ; the next was that of Robert Browning; then followed the names of Benjamin Jowett, G. G. Bradley, Dr. E. Zeller, of BerHn: F. Max Miiller, W. E. H. Lecky, Edwin Arnold, E. Renan, Otto Pfleiderer; a long list of professors of St. Andrews, Edinburgh, Glasgow,. Aberdeen, Oxford; of the universities of Jena, Berlin, Groningen, Amsterdam, Leyden; of Harvard University, the Andover Theological School and Johns Hopkins University ; a long array of Members of Parlia- ment; among distinguished Americans, James Russell Lowell, Oli- ver Wendell Holmes, Frederic H. Hedge, Phillips Brooks and Philip Schaff ; a great number of clergymen of England, France, Germany, Holland and the United States ; in fine, the leaders of all schools of Protestant Christian thought. The only names conspicuously absent 138 CHEISTENDOM. are those of men of science, especially of those of agnostic tenden- cies ; even some of these, unable to subscribe to all the terms of the address, sent him their personal acknowledgments.* It has been said: "England is likely to see another Gladstone, Tennyson, Euskin or Arnold before she sees another Martineau." This may be not because Martineau so greatly surpassed any of these in intellectual acumen, spiritual vision or true virility, but, perhaps, because his was such a "unique personality," so powerful and so unique that whoever once came under its spell was never afterward quite the same person; he had met a revelation of character and power, a higher order of man, whose touch had disclosed heights and depths of being before unknown. Martineau occupied a unique and noble pre-eminence among the master minds of his age ; he was easily the peer of a Mill, a Darwin, a Spencer, a Newman, or a Carlyle in the keenness of his intellect and the width of his learning. Though liberal yet was he profoundly religious ; the high priest of tolerance and considerateness, yet swayed by the deepest convictions; commanding respect where he could not compel agreement. Certainly, "no man in the England of the last century did more to liberalize the religious thought of the nation.** He represented not only a new school of learning, but a new school of piety as well. Not the least singular is his almost ascetic piety with a bold and increasingly radical criticism of the canon of Scrip- ture. But this radicalism was counterbalanced by his spirit of rev- erence and enthusiasm for God and righteousness. Whatever may be the value of Martineau's philosophical writings, it was in the spheres of morals and religion that his most valuable work was done. And though most of us may not be able to follow him in his views of the Divine Unity, all of us may do so in his love of God and loyalty to Jesus Christ. Some minds may not accord with his respecting the recognition that should be given the doctrine of evolution, or the social side of man's nature, yet none of us can fail to wish that the church at large might not limp so far behind him in his spirit of tolerance and basis of Christian fellowship. In these respects his greatest influence in Christian leadership is yet in the future. To him who will undertake to read and digest the voluminous writings of James Martineau — or, to a measurable degree, Mr. Jack- son's admirable biography and study — may be guaranteed a liberal * Jackson's Martineau ; page 119. PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 139 education in ethics and philosophy, in the arts of criticism and lit- erary grace ; may be guaranteed a clearer understanding of the value of and what constitutes religion, an enlarged spirit of tolerance, faculties greatly disciplined by the exercise and heart expanded by communion with one of the choicest spirits which God has given to modern times. ALBRECHT RITSCHL: Rev. Alfred E. Garvie, B.D. During the last quarter of the century just closed no name was so well known in German theological circles as that of Albrecht Ritschl ; none was used with either so warm praise or so severe blame. In the last decade of the century his fame reached the English- speaking world. It is admitted alike by those who fear and those who welcome this influence that we have much to learn from German theology, and that in it at the present moment the most vital and vigorous force is Ritschl, who "though dead yet is speaking'' through the living voices of his disciples. It is, therefore, not only of su- preme interest, but also of urgent importance, that we should try to understand the man and prove his worth. Born in Berlin, March 25, 1822, his grandfather, a pastor and professor, and his father a pastor and then bishop, Ritschl was by birth and breeding dedicated to theology as his vocation. Although a man of thorough independence and marked originality, he showed himself in his student days, which began in 1839, receptive of, and responsive to, many influences in his intellectual development. His mental history was an epitome of the course of contemporary Ger- man thought. First of all influenced at Bonn by Nitzsch, and at Halle for a short time by Hengstenberg, Tholuck and Miiller, he was won for Hegelianism by Erdrnann, and then became a disciple of Baur at Tiibingcn. But in the later phases of his thought he owed most to Schleiermacher, Kant and Lotze. After seven years spent in varied and diligent study, he began his career as a university teacher, first as a privatdocent at Bonn, in 1846; then he became a professor extraordinariiLS there in 1852; and lastly he removed to Gottingen in 1864 as professor ordinarius. There twenty-five quiet but busy years were spent, and there he died, March 20, 1889. One of his disciples, Herrmann, gives us a glimpse of what manner of man he was. "In religious intercourse Ritschl observed an extraor- 140 CHRISTENDOM. dinary severity toward himself. How he lived in the world of thought of the Christian faith certainly was made so clear in his conversation that a less powerful disposition could be wearied there- by. In his house and here in Marburg I have been whole days to- gether with him, without his ever having interrupted our occupation with the highest things by a longer conversation of lighter content. Herein appeared his being deeply possessed by the subject. But seldom did this impel a feeble emotional word ; but he spake austerely and severely about what moved his heart." Ritschl's first important work, "The Rise of the Old Catholic Church," published in 1849, showed that he had ceased to be a dis- ciple of Baur. His greatest writing, "The Christian Doctrine of Justification and Reconciliation," the publication of which was com- pleted in 1874, marked the formation of a Ritschlian school. An- other great book, "The History of Pietism," was completed in 1886 ; but it had no such decisive significance. Among his minor works there need to be mentioned only his "Instruction in the Christian Religion," a brief but clear summary of his theology, and his "Theol- ogy and Metaphysics," a controversial writing in defence of his own position. Since his death his son has published two volumes of his "Essays" and his "Life." The first volume of his "Justification and Reconciliation," containing the history of the doctrine, was trans- lated into English in 1872 ; but the third volume, giving his own constructive effort, appeared in English dress only a few months ago. His "Instruction" has just been translated. An understand- ing of his theology need not now be confined to those who can read his difficult German. Ritschl's religious individuality explains both his mode of thought and his style of writing. He constructed his own ideas as ho criti- cised the opinions of others. When apparently most dependent on others, he is actually asserting his own originality. His three most prominent characteristics are a practical tendency, a. historical posi- tivism and a philosophical scepticism. Moral action for the King- dom of God, based on religious conviction of justification by God, finding its support in the historical facts of the Christian revelation, and not in the philosophical ideas of a speculative theism — that is a brief description of his distinctive position. Although he does sometimes yield to a speculative impulse, yet he generally remains faithful to this practical tendency to admit into theology only what Ls directly serviceable for the religious life. Intense and sin- PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 141 cere in his own convictions, he was inclined to exaggerate the differ- ence between himself and his critics, and so involved himself in controversy far more than was at all necessary. Suspicious of all sentimentality and mysticism, he misunderstood and held aloof from many forms of genuine and active piety in the churches, which he siunmarily condemned as pietism; and so greatly restricted the range of his influence, which was practically confined to academic circles, and which has only through the more systematic attitude of his dis- ciples now begun to affect religious thought and life generally. In 1874, on the publication of his greatest work, he began to gather disciples around him. Harnack, Herrmann and Schiirer were at this time drawn to him by (1) his return to the historical revelation of the person of Christ; (2) his claim for the indepen- dence of theology from philosophical tendencies; (3) his attempt to put Christian faith beyond the reach of historical criticism; (4) his practical tendency. For several years there seemed to be a funda- mental agreement between the master and his disciples. With the adhesion of Hiiring and Kaftan in 1880 a second period in the his- tory of the school began, marked by growing divergence within and gathering opposition without. Since Ritschl's death in 1889 two tendencies in the school have begun to assert themselves. The one, represented by Harnack, is more critical; the other, expressed in Herrmann and Kaftan, is more positive; and it is uncertain how much longer we shall be able to speak of a Ritschlian school. As the agreement in the school is rather in theological method than in dogmatic propositions, it is difficult to define precisely the common principles, but the following may be said to be the distinctive fea- tures : ( 1 ) The exclusion of metaphysics from theology ; ( 2 ) the rejection, consequently, of speculative theism; (3) the condemnation of ecclesiastical dogma as an illegitimate mixture of theology and metaphysics; (4) the antagonism shown to religious mysticism as a metaphysical type of piety; (5) the practical conception of religion; (6) the consequent contrast between theoretical and religious knowl- edge; (7) the emphasis laid on the historical revelation of God in Christ as opposed to any natural revelation; (8) the use of the idea of the Kingdom of God as the regulative principle of Christian dog- matics; (9) the tendency to limit theological investigation to the contents of the religious consciousness. Ritschl gathered around him so many disciples, and these have be- come so popular and influential, because he reproduced in a vigorous 142 CHRISTENDOM. original personalit}^ the tendencies of his age, and thus was able to minister to its necessities. His theology is "so living and fruitful," because it "answers to the needs of the present generation," which distrusts philosophy, believes in science, has been troubled by his- torical criticism, and seeks a social ideal, and so demands a Gospel, independent of philosophy, consistent with science, unaffected by historical criticism, and sympathetic to social ideals. Temporary and limited as may be the justification of these tendencies, yet, as "the faith once delivered to the saints" must be spoken to each age in language which it will hear, understand and welcome, it is not a de- fect, but a merit, of Eitschlian theology that it is seasonable and opportune. It has not a merely ephemeral value, for the tendencies it shows and the necessities it meets are not fleeting fashions and wayward whims, but are rooted deeply and firmly in the soil of thought and life of the age. The older dogmatism, which at one time was just as seasonable and opportune, has lost credit and influ- ence among most thoughtful men, and the pressing need of the pres- ent moment is a reconstruction of Christian theology. Because Eitschl and his followers have attempted this with large intelligence and deep sincerity, we may confidently claim for him the place of a religious leader. The merits of the Eitschlian theology are these : In its method it recognizes the authority of the New Testament as a witness to the contents and character of the Christian faith; it assigns to Jesus Christ the central position and the supreme value in the revelation of God to man ; and it insists on religious experience as the essential condition of theological construction. In its opposition to specula- tive rationalism, on the one hand, it asserts the personality of God, the reality of sin and guilt, and of grace and miracle, the unique value of Christ as revealing God, and the essential significance of the Christian community. It has, on the other hand, legitimately ex- posed and condemned what is unsound in some forms of pietism. Its defects, briefly stated, are as follows : It does not recognize the necessity for unity of thought, and thus the legitimacy of philosophy as an ally of theology. Consequently, much of its criticism of ecclesi- astical dogma is misdirected. In condemning what is unsound in religious mysticism it seems to set itself in opposition to the essential necessity of the religious life — intimate and constant communion with God. ]t fails to appropriate all the contents of the Christian reve- lation, being led by its too narrow conception of religion, and its un- PAST CENTUKY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 143 due restriction of the range of Christian experience, to neglect or re- ject facts or truths that do nourish and exercise faith. In avoiding a speculative treatment of Christian doctrine it often refuses to give the rational explanation which completes the empirical account of the objects of faith, and so arrests theological inquiry at an earlier stage than the interests of religion even demand, as notably in the doctrine of the person of Christ. While Ritsehl himself seriously modified or entirely rejected some of the generally accepted evangelical positions, many of his disciples liave not followed him in this; and for the most part are in closer contact and more vital sympathy with the common religious life of the Gennan churches, in which the Eitschlian school is a reviving influence. The hope may be cherished that the more positive ten- dency in the school will be so developed as to give us a theology which, while not less receptive of, and responsive to, contemporary phases of thought, will yet preserve more completely, and exhibit more ade- quately, the Christian revelation in its permanence as divine and its adaptability as human. As a number of English-speaking divinity students visit the Ger- man universities, and many British and American theologians read German theological literature, the Eitschlian influence was felt in the British Isles and the United States before English translations of the Eitschlian literature began to attract general attention. The translation of the first volume of Eitschl's "Justification and Eecon- ciliation" seems to have made no impression. A criticism of Ritsehl, Stahlin's "Ivant, Lotze and Eitschl," ineffective through its violence, when translated in 1889, stirred no interest. Only when transla- tions of Kaftan's "The Truth of the Christian Eeligion" (1894), Herrmann's "The Communion of the Christian with God" (1895), and Harnack's "History of Dogma" (1894-1900), ) appeared, did the interest in the movement become more general. Probably Professor Orr has done more than any other writer to spread knowledge about Eitschl, and the wide range of his influence makes it all the more regrettable that his judgment is so unfavorable. The adverse criti- cisms of the Eitschlian theology in so popular a work as Professor Denny's "Studies in Theology" has still more widely extended the prejudice against this school. The writer of this article has en- deavored in his book on "The Eitschlian Theology" to show Ritsehl in a more favorable light, and so to win for him the attention which he deserves. Professor Swing, in a brief study of the theology of 144 CHRISTENDOM. Eitsehl, recently published, goes much further in unqualified praise. Articles for and against the movement are becoming common in theological magazines. The translation of the most important of the three volumes of "Justification and Keconciliation/' which appeared some months ago, is greatly stimulating the interest in what is in- creasingly being felt to be a timely and helpful influence. When the intellectual conditions of the age are estranging so many thoughtful men from the faith of the Christian Church, what seeks to be an apologetic "in relief of doubt" and in help of faith, demands at least patient and unprejudiced study. It is not probable, nor is it de- sirable, that theology in English-speaking countries should be domi- nated by Ritschl; but it wall be profitable for all theologians to get suggestion and stimulus from contact with so vigorous a personality, so original a thinker, and so genuine a Christian. PHILLIPS BROOKS : Alexander V. G. Allen. Phillips Brooks was bom in Boston in 1835, and on both sides of his family was the heir of a long line of distinguished Puritan ancestry. When he was four years old the family became connected with the Episcopal Church. He graduated from Harvard College in 1855, whence he went to the Theological Seminary in Virginia, graduating there in 1859, and at once entering upon the ministry as rector of the Church of the Advent, in Philadelphia. In 1862 he was called to the Church of the Holy Trinity in Philadelphia, and in 1869 he became rector of Trinity Church, Boston, holding this posi- tion until his election as Bishop of Massachusetts in 1891. He died in 1893 at the age of fifty-seven. His published writings include eight volumes of sermons, the Bohlen Lectures on the "Influence of Jesus," lectures on "Toleration," etc. Since his death his miscel- laneous writings have been collected in one volume with the title of "Essays and Addresses." His biography appeared in two volumes in 1900. The distinctive work of Phillips Brooks was mainly done in the pulpit, which he occupied as a conspicuous throne for more than thirty years. His place in history is among the few greatest preach- ers whom the Christian Church acknowledges from its beginning. In his preaching he resorted to no sensational methods, either of voice PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 145 or matter, in order to arrest attention or enforce his message. He followed the conventionalities of the pulpit, turning them into sources of strength. He was pre-eminently a preacher to his own age, an age which had become doubtful in regard to supreme spir- itual verities and found the formulas of the church irrational or distasteful. To such an age he commended Christianity and the religious life, faith in God and in man, with an almost irresistible power, compelling attention to his utterance by a singular gift of elo- quence and by personal fascination. Pie became known, revered and loved throughout America, in England also, which he often visited, and, indeed, by his printed sermons his fame and influence extended throughout the world. He could not have accomplished so great a result had he not been peculiarly adapted to his task. He understood his age ; he was pro- foundly versed in literature which is the expression of the soul of humanity ; he knew even the secret springs of the discontent which was undermining faith. His mind was as capacious as his heart, embracing with its comprehensive grasp the range and significance of all human interests. His natural preference would have been for the life of the scholar working at the world's problems, or the literary man uttering in the best forms the convictions and instincts of man. But Ms gifts in these directions he subordinated or held in check and reserved himself for the work of the preacher, a task whereto he was appointed not only by formal ordination, but by the voice of the world about him, which refused to allow him to abandon the pulpit. While he was alive the world wondered at his mysterious power, exerted apparently by no effort ; many also were the attempts made to fathom the secret of his strength and fascination, felt alike by cultured and uncultured people, by those of the highest education and by the lowest and poorest. ISTow that he is gone, the secret still baffles the inquiries into its sources. But at least it is possible to determine the distinctive, predominant character of his message. And in describing his work as a leader of men we need only fall back upon phrases familiar, so familiar that they might seem to have lost their meaning. Phillips Brooks was an instance of the constraining love of Christ, as with St. Paul ; and he had the love of human souls. These two qualifications were his in an extraordinary degree beyond any other man of his generation. To these two endowments every sermon that he preached bore witness, never obscured by the literary charm with which he enveloped his theme. 146 CHRISTENDOM. In the preaching of Christ as the Saviour of the world he followed the evangelical method and was true to whatever was essential in its spirit. And yet he differed also, for he placed the supreme stress on the person of Christ, not upon any doctrine regarding him, although he held the traditional doctrines as true. Christ to him was the one towering personality in the world's history, who had given effect to his teaching by the power of his personality, and had thereby im- planted in humanity the seed of spiritual life. To come into contact with Christ as a still living personality, whether in the church or in Scripture, or in the lives of faithful disciples, in all ages, was to be born again and to be alive unto God. To be in Christ was to fulfil all the rich purpose of manhood, the varied scope of regenerated humanity; to achieve the end of life. Although every sermon was devoted to setting forth this truth, yet so diverse were the variations upon it that his preaching never became monotonous, but was per- ennially fresh and absorbing. We must go behind the preacher, therefore, to the man himself, in order to get any comprehension of the secret of his power. When we do so we find a soul aflame with the love of Christ, in a faith simple and yet with the intensity of ■devotion which recalls the "ages of faith'' before yet men had learned to doubt regarding spiritual realities. Although living in the mod- ern world and himself a modern man, conversant with the best of modern literature, enjoying life as only a man with his rare endow- ments could do, yet we can easily think of him as at home in the age of the crusades, when the great ideal was to do something for the honor and glory of Christ, when a man gladly gave up his life in the effort to retrieve the Holy Sepulchre from disgrace. The man whom he most resembles in history is St. Francis of Assisi, who illus- trated devotion to Christ in such personal and practical ways, to an extent never seen before, that it almost seemed as if he were a "sec- ond Christ." Such was the type of Phillips Brooks. We may see affinities in him to other great leaders in the church, but he differs from them in that he does not aim to establish a new doctrine or a new order. He proclaimed no renovation in theology as essential before the great work of salvation could begin. Ho simply showed men who Christ was, entering into His spirit and making Him live again in the modern world. All this seems so simple and familiar that one might fail to see beneath it the evidence of profound thought and observation, a deep philosophical purpose, the intention to bring back the world again PAST CENTURY'S EELIGIOUS LEADERS. 147 to its natural centre, or to the orbit from which it had wandered. The journals and notebooks of Pliillips Brooks reveal an intellectual constitution capable of deep, clear insight into truths not obvious to the many — a subtle mind with a capacity for fine distinctions, a poetic mind finding in poetry the truest interpretation of life, but above all a man forever brooding on the mystery of life. Conjoined with this was his gift of incessant observation of life, whether in books or among living men. His well-trained mind, his classical cul- ture, his wide reading, combined with his other gifts to fit him for a judge of what the world of his time needed and unconsciously de- manded, was, indeed, waiting for, without knowing the sources of its unrest. He came to his age and pointed to Christ as the consum- mate personality in whom was the way, the truth, and the life. What all men wanted and needed was a leader whom they could follow, whose personal influence would reach every man in the ranks, and not only give the example, but the power to accomplish righteousness and salvation. Phillips Brooks did not enter much into argument, but he pointed to the one solvent for the difficulties of his time. In New England and wherever the transcendental philosophy had gone, there had resulted an over-intellectualism, whose influence in the end was spiritual bewilderment and loss. There had been an attempt to ac- complish too much, so that the pinions of the soul had grown weary and men were falling again to the earth in disenchantment. In his book on "The Influence of Jesus," Brooks pointed to the reality, tracing the power of the personal Christ, in history or in individual experience ; for apart from the character and the person of Christ, his teaching would be of no avail. It was life, not thought or speculation, for which the world was hungering, and in Him was life. A certain spirit of fatalism had worked its way into the con- sciousness of men, and he presented Christ as the embodiment of human freedom. With the agnostic, who thought th^t nothing could be known or demonstrated as true in regard to these things, he did not reason, but he pointed to Christ, who believed them — God and immortality ; and there he left them under the influence of One who must have known. He was in sympathy with the "New Theol- ogy," as it was called, but he maintained that no mere change of opinion in theology would make men better or more religious. He was a sturdy realist in an age confused by the multiplicity of ideals. At a time when intellect was overrated as a means of reaching the truth he maintained that the whole man, with organic totality of his 148 CHRISTENDOM. powers, was appealed to by Christ, and that the intellect alone did not sufl5ce. The weakness of the hour called for a reassertion of God as the commanding will in the universe, so that the highest glory of man lay in obedience, in the possession of a responding will. With such a message it is not strange that the world responded to Phillips Brooks in an unusual way. The devotions of countless thousands went forth to him as to a heaven-sent leader. More par- ticularly was this feeling manifested among the various denomina- tions of Christians. He seemed to break down every barrier which divided men from each other, till nothing seemed more real than Christian unity. He had no faith in ecclesiastical expedients or adjustments as means by which the prayer of Christ could be ful- filled in order to the one fold and one Shepherd. But in the personal Christ and in allegiance to Him, so far as it was progressingly real- ized, lay the reality of the brotherhood of men in church or state. In all this he was breaking down no creeds, nor forswearing the formu- las of his own church. He saw beneath the creeds to their essential meaning, recognizing in them all a spiritual purpose, not for the dis- franchisement of men, but toward their larger freedom. He was at home in the theological distinctions and refinements of contro- versy, nor did he scorn them as futile or meaningless, but he also simplified what had become to many a picture of confusion and hope- less contradiction, by the presentation of Christ as in Himself His religion. ''Christ was Christianity," to use his own expression. When he died there was, as an observer of his funeral remarked, a more signal manifestation of Christian unity than the world had ever seen before. DWIGHT LYMAN MOODY : A. C. Dixon, D.D. [Dwlght L. Moody wonld easily have reached the first rauk in any vocation in life. In business he would have been a Vanderbilt or a Rockefeller; in politics, a senator, cabinet minister or president; in the army or navy, a Grant or a Farragut. He was born to command. He swayed an audience of ten or twenty thousands of people as by magic — not alone by his eloquence, but before he began to speak, by his personality. His judgment was as nearly infallible as seems ever given to man : his poise, common sense, instinctive grasp of a situation, foresight of results, were simply wonderful. In the technical or scholastic sense he had never been educated ; but if education means gaining the best use of all one's powers, Mr. Moody was a superbly educated man. He made no false motions. Every blow that he struck PAST CENTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 149 carried its whole weight. Every sentence that he uttered counted for the full value of his great personality. Though most widely known as an evangelist, a preacher of power equal to the best traditions of the pulpit in any age, yet how far-reaching were his activities ! The schools of Northfield and Mt. Her- mon and Chicago- — possibly his best monument — testify to his zeal for edu- cation. The valuation of the grounds and buildings is as follows : Seminary, $376,010; Mount Herraon, $450,932; Bible Institute, $195,301, a total of $1,021,243. How wisely and indefatigably he used the press ! How eagerly he labored to put good reading into the cells of all our prisons ! How his voice rang out for a pure patriotism ! How prudently he encouraged every genuine reform ! And how sweetly shrewd he was ; how quick to penetrate every sham ; how righteouslj' intolerant of hypocrisy ! If one characteristic more than any other marks Mr. Moody and his work, it is perfect genuineness. — Teunis S. Hamlin, D. D. "The Congregationalist, " Jan. 11, 1900. — Ed.] * * * DwiGHT L. Moody was born in ISTorthfield, Mass., February 5, 1837, and died at the same place December 22, 1899. The Rev. Dr. H. G. Weston, president of Crozer Theological Seminary, in his ad- dress at the funeral of Mr. Moody, said : "I would rather be D. L. Moody dead in his coffin than any other man living on earth." And Dr. Weston, over seventy years of age, is known to be very careful in the use of words. Such men are not given to exaggeration. Let us see what there was about D. L. Moody which justifies so conservative a man in making such a radical statement. D. L. Moody was honest. He hated shams. He could not bear pretense. The first question he asked about everything was, "Is it right ? Will Christ approve it ?" He would do nothing that he did not believe to be right before God, and when he decided that a course was right, the consciousness of its righteousness caused him to throw all the energy of his great soul and vigorous body into it. D. L. Moody was humble. He never boasted of his own powers. In early life he was informed that he had none to boast of. When he talked in prayer meetings his friends approached him and urged him to remain silent, for they thought he had no gift of public speech. This early discouragement may have had something to do with his self-depreciation, but I think that the secret of his humility was largely in the fact that he always had on hand great enterprises for God. He was not easily satisfied. What had been done was only the stepping stone to greater achievement. When a man be- comes satisfied with what he has done in life, he is apt to grow proud of it. But Moody always stood in the presence of a great unfinished work. The magnitude of it made him look away from himself to 150 CHRISTENDOM. God. His great heart took in the United States and the world. He prayed for a revival in the nation. When he came into a city its millions of souls burdened his heart. He loved crowds because crowds gave him a great opjiortunity for doing good. A thousand conversions filled him with joy, but lie could not be content with a thousand when there were hundreds of thousands still unsaved. Great preacher as he was, he was never satisfied with his senuons, because there was in his mind an ideal higher than anything he had ever reached. D. L. Moody was practical. It was truly said of him, "He hitched his wagon to a star,'' but he kept the wheels on earth and its axles well oiled. He never made the mistake of the philosopher who, while gazing at the stars, fell into the ditch at his feet. He worked out his own salvation with fear and trembling, while God worked within him to will and to do. Enthusiasm never ran away with his judgment. D. L. Moody was hopeful. I never saw him discouraged; if he was he never mentioned it. To him better times were always ahead. His face was toward the sunrise. He looked not at the darkness, but at the stars. He gazed not at the clouds, but on the rainbow. His hope was in God, and there was nothing too great for his God. D. L. Moody was brave. God said to Joshua while he stood in the presence of danger, "Be of good courage," and the same God said to Solomon while he stood before great difficulties, "Be of good courage." It takes as great bravery to meet difficulties as danger. D. L. Moody would doubtless have been a brave soldier, going wher- ever duty called, but he was not called upon to do this. He did stand, however, frequently in the presence of great difficulties, and they never made him quail. He could stand alone with God. He delighted to consult with his brethren, and had an ear open to coun- sel, but his final decision was reached upon his knees, and when he took a stand nothing could move him. His denunciation of sin in high places brought upon him severe criticism, but he did not flinch ; he simply repeated his charges with greater emphasis. He sought the favor and the praise of no man at the expense of conscience. He was popular with the rich and with the poor, because in his preaching he sought to please no one but God. D. L. Moody was tolerant, but not through indifference, and 'Tiis tolerance was not the least of his remarkable characteristics," says "Zion's Herald." "Though a man of clear and decided religious PAST CE?sTTURY'S RELIGIOUS LEADERS. 151 tenets, and though he held his convictions with tenacity, yet he wasr comprehensive and considerate of variant theological opinions. Con- servative in his opinions of the Bible, yet he was so large and sa tolerant that he could 'find' Prof. Henry Drummond and give him Northfield for a pulpit, sending him forth as a 'son in the Gospel.' And later, when terror-stricken defenders of the faith were af- frighted at the utterances of Prof. George Adam Smith, Moody in- vited him to Northfield to preach and to lecture. He was a robust^ expulsive, apostolic disciple, a combination of much of the best of Peter and Paul, having Peter's burning zeal and consecration, h\it without his infirmities, for he never did nor could he have betrayed his Lord; not possessing Paul's culture of philosophy, but having his charity, brotherliness, and largeness of outlook for the Kingdom of Christ, and, like Paul, 'abundant in labors.' The world is inex- pressibly richer for the life which he has lived and the work which he has done." D. L. Moody was great in the Christly sense. Jesus said, "If any would be great among you, let him become the servant of all" ; and the mission of Moody was to serve. His love of Jesus was a passion, and he loved people because Jesus loved them. All he was and had was on the altar of sacrifice. He never spared himself. No one who knew him ever accused him of seeking money for himself. He lived and died a poor man, while he raised and passed on millions for the uplifting of others. The fact that he was without early educational advantages led him to sympathize with poor young men and women, and to establish colleges where they could secure edu- cation at small cost. A large book might be written on Moody as a builder. There is scarcely a great city in Christendom which has not some building erected with money raised in response to his prayer and work. "D. L. Moody," says "The Outlook,'' "was a religious preacher, not a theological teacher ; and the character of his work is to be measured, not by its theological structure, but by its religious power. The dif- ference ought to be as self-evident as it is simple. The theological questions are such as these : What was the nature of the infiuence exerted by the Spirit of God on the minds of the writers of the Bible? What is the relation of Jesus Christ to the Infinite and Eternal Ruler of the universe ? How do the life, passion, and death of Jesus Christ effect a saving influence on the character and destiny of man- kind ? The religious questions are : How can I best use the Bible 152 CHEISTENDOM. to make better men and women? What is Jesus Christ to me, and what can He be to m}' fellow men? What can I do to make avail- able to myself the influence of His life and character in securing a purer character and a diviner life for myself and for those about me ? It would be difficult to name any man in the present half cen- tury Avho has done so much to give the power of spiritual vision to men who having eyes saw not and having ears heard not, to give hope to men who were living in a dull despair, or an even more fatally didl self-content, and to give that love wliich is righteousness and that righteousness which is love to men who were before un- qualifiedly egotistical and selfish. With him the theology was never an end, always an instrument. If any liberal is inclined to criticise his theology, let him consider well with himself whether he is doing as good work for humanity with his more modern and, let us say, better instruments." D. L. Moody was a prophet. He spoke for God. His message was the whole Bible. He believed it to be the Word of God. It was easy for him to accept its miracles, for the God who wrote the Book was equal to anything that it claimed for him. Like Spur- geon, he was never ordained by the laying on of human hands. His ordination was of God. *'The hand of the Lord was upon him." He had no sympathy with the critics who tear the Bible to pieces. There were among them some of his friends, whom he loved in spite of their errors. But his friendship for them never made him swerve from his loyalty to the Bible. He believed in God the Holy Spirit, who inspired men to write the Book, and who is with us ready to endue with power in preaching it. Moody did not despise other books, and he read more widely than some people suppose. But all other books compared with the Book were weak things. He was emphatically a man of one book, and because he honored God's Word, God honored him. D. L. Moody had a message of salvation by grace. He believed that sinners are saved, if saved at all, by the unmerited favor of God. He magnified mercy. His was a gospel of blood. I heard him say that he once went to a place in Great Britain where he was told by one of the prominent preachers that it would never do for him to say much about blood in that place. Moody told him with- out hesitation that he would preach it in every sermon, and he mag- nified atonement through the blood imtil the whole town was shaken by the power of God. He frequently said that when a preacher I'AST CENTURY'S KELICIOUS LEADERS. 153 ceased to preach the blood, he began to be powerless in his ministry. The great effort of his life was to induce sinners to take shelter under the blood. His sermons on the blood have won thousands to Jesus. He denounced as a fatal error the illusion that men can be saved by character without the blood of Christ. D. L. Moody brought to the world a message of regeneration. He magnified the work of the Spirit in the new birth. He was not a reformer: he thought little of the efforts at reforming society by programme or law. With him the regeneration of the individual was everything. When men are saved, they will become good citi- zens and good fathers. He believed with all his heart in instan- taneous conversion. He declared that somewhere between the top of that sj'camore tree and the ground Zaccheus became a Christian. He emphasized the sudden conversion of the jailer, the eunuch, the three thousand on the day of Pentecost. Indeed, he believed in no other kind of conversion than that which comes suddenly ; that it is not possible to cultivate the old nature into a state of grace ; we musl receive the Divine nature by an act of faith. The proof of this reception and the evidence to the individual consciousness may come gradually, but every one accepts Jesus at some definite time. D. L. Moody brought to the weary, burdened toilers of earth a message of heaven. He looked forward to its rest and its righteous- ness. He cared little for this world, because he looked for "the city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God." His citizenship was in heaven. He loved his home, and made it a little heaven on earth. His wife and children could hardly think of him as the great man that he was, he was so loving and gentle and ten- der. The home on earth he prized, but the home in heaven he prized more. The fallacy so prevalent that we should make the best of this world and leave heaven to take care of itself received no sympathy from him. His real world was "the building of God, the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." As friend after friend passed through the gates, he became more attached to the "Father's House." The death of his little grandchild broke his heart, while it brightened heaven and made him more willing to go. His last words will be immortal : "Earth is receding ; heaven is opening; God is calling me. Do not call me back." What a com- motion his entrance into heaven must have made ! While on earth he preached with his voice to millions of people, and through his pen to millions more. How many millions have been saved through 154 CHRISTENDOM. his words and life no one can tell, but certainly he received an abundant entrance into the city of life and light. He has seen the King in His beauty. The yearning in his soul that he might be like Him has been satisfied. MOVEMENTS CRITICAL AND ETHICAL, Prof. George H. Schodde, Ph.D., COLUMBUS. [Freedom to criticise and reconstruct the text of Holy Scripture; free- dom to re-investigate traditional opinions concerning the dates and the authorship of the sacred books of the Old and New Testament ; freedom to revise and amend the traditional interpretation of their contents ; freedom to revise and amend definitions of great Christian doctrines by whatever vener- able authorities the definitions may be sanctioned ; this must be conceded — conceded frankly, not under compulsion, but with the full consent of the judgment, the conscience and the heart. The public opinion of the church should be friendly to intellectual integrity in its theological scholars. It is better that they should reach a false conclusion by fair means than a true one by foul. Truth itself is not the truth to the man who has been dis- loyal to his intellectual conscience in the formation of his belief. We have learned much from the saintly theologians of past generations ; we may learn much from the saintly theologians of our own time; and we must be willing to learn, or God will not give us new teachers. Yet the fathers were not infallible; and modern theologians ai-e but men. We have it on excellent authority that even general councils "may err, and sometimes have erred, even in things pertaining to God;" nor can exemption from error be claimed for great critical scholars brilliant with genius and learning; they must consent to have what they confidently proclaim as "the final re- sults" of criticism, examined, tested, controverted, and sometimes rejected by their successors, — R. W. Dale, LL.D., "Fellowship with Christ," p. 109. — Ed.] * * * The critical movements in the theological world during the nine- teenth century all find their common bond of unity in the noteworthy facts that they concerned themselves not about any particular doc- trine or doctrines of the Scriptures, but that the Scriptures them- selves constituted the debatable ground between the various trends and tendencies. Essentially the purpose of critical inquiry has been to answer the question: "What are the Scriptures?" These have been the cynosure of all eyes, and it is no exaggeration to claim that never before has the Written Word been the object of such pene- trating and subtle investigation as has been the case during the past ten decades. The canonical books of the Old and New Testaments have been the central problem of research as never before. 155 156 CHRISTENDOM. Not indeed is this to be understood as though the Bible had never before been a chief concern of theological investigation; but it is a fact that never before have the Scriptures been examined so minutely from the historical and literary point of view as has been done in our day. In the Reformation period, too, they were the subject of the most vigorous debate, but the issue at stake was not the origin or the literary character and development of the Bibli- cal books, but the authority of the Bible as a whole over against the principle of tradition as taught by the Roman Catholic Church. The outcome of the whole discussion was the formal principle of the Reformation, which has practically controlled Protestant thought ever since, namely, that the Scriptures and these alone are the source of Christian doctrines and morals. That the discussion of that period should take this course with reference to the Scriptures was the most natural and necessary thing in the world. Protestantism needed a sure foundation to take the place of the authority of the Roman Catholic hierarchy, which had been rejected, and found this authority and basis for its very existence in the Scriptures as the sure revelation of God. Then, as now, the fundamental fact was recognized that these Scriptures are the joint product of two factors, a divine and a human, but the former was regarded as the aJl-con- troUing element in the composition of the Biblical books, that the presence and activity of the human element was practically elimin- ated. In other words, the Reformation and the Reformers saw in the Bible only the Word of God, which because it was such could be trusted absolutely, as its very character of inerrancy made any appeal to other sources unnecessary and impossible. The practical interests of the Reformation prevailed also in its conception and ideas of the Scriptures. Even of the question of the Old Testament Apocrypha, contained in the Greek or Alexandrian, but not in the Hebrew and Palestinian canon, which the Protestant Church of that period rejected as not belonging to the real Word of God, there is found in the literature of the period practically no formal discus- sion. Luther's works in the Erlangen edition fill one hundred solid volumes, yet we nowhere have from his pen anything like critical or historical discussion of the Apocrypha or other literary problem of the Scriptures. The characteristic peculiarity of the Bible work done by the schol- arship of the nineteenth centur} is that it has for the first time em- phasized to the fullest extent the human side of the Scriptures. CRITICAL MOVEMENTS. 157 The fact has been recognized as never before that although holy men of God wrote as they were moved by the Spirit, they neverthe- less were men ; that the books of the Bible indelibly show the impress of a human as well as a divine authorship; that these books all have a history. To determine these factors and to do justice to them in formulating any definition or description of the Biblical books has been the leading ideal of the critical research of our times. This spirit of historical inquiry stands in the closest possible touch with the general trend and tendency of the learned research of the day. Without doubt the most potent agency in the character of modern scholarship has been the idea of historical development. Essentially we are living in the era of Darwin. For good and for bad this trend has made itself felt in the Scriptural investigations of the century as never before and has given these their distinct character. It is not at all accidental that among the new sciences in tlieology, proba- bly the most important is that of Biblical theology'-, the gradual un- folding of the truths of revelation and the different phases and forms which these truths assumed in various periods and in the hands of different exponents. The historical side of the Scriptures has been studied and understood by no generation of scholars as thor- oughly as at present. The earlier Protestant Church, beginning "with the Reformation era, had no interest in this problem, as the Scriptures were to them chiefly a codex of proof passages; but the historical spirit of modem scholarship compelled the church to in- vestigate this phase of the Bible problem too; and the emphasis, greater or less, that is laid upon the human and historical side of the Written Word really causes the difference between the various Biblical schools of the times. For, quite naturally, from this new point of view taken of the Scriptures, some teachings concerning them, which were based on the traditional method of regarding these books as a whole, have been more or less modified. Among these teachings are the doctrines of inspiration, of inerrancy, of the unity of Scripture, of the absolute uniqueness of its contents, of the her- meneutical principle of the analogy of the Scriptures, and others. Just in proportion as any school or class of Bible students emphasize the human element over against the divine, even to the extent of allowing the failings and weaknesses of the human to appear in the contents of the Scriptures, to this degree, too, is the radicalism of a school marked. The differences and distinctions between the various schools of the dav do not consist in this, that the one or the other ha^ 158 CHRISTENDOM. a greater abundance of facts at its command, but solely in the meth- ods and manners in which these facts are interpreted. All schools have essentially the same knowledge of the contents of the Scrip- tures, but the one in interpreting these contents will ascribe to human agency and understand accordingly what another will ascribe to the divine. Thus Delitzsch and Wellhausen both were thoroughly at home in reference to the actual contents and literary history of the Old Testament ; yet the former saw in these and behind these facts the special workings of Jehovah educating Israel for the fullness of times and the reception of the Messiah, while Wellhausen makes such a combination and interpretation of these same facts that the result is to all intents and purposes a naturalistic reconstruction scheme of the whole Old Testament historical development. The difference between these two eminent representatives of the opposing clans is one of "standpoint," of underlying principles, and not one of learning, critical acumen or knowledge. This great work of studying the human side of the Scriptures rather than the divine, has been done in the two leading departments of Lower and Higher Criticism, both of which have fully occupied the attention of the learned world during the entire century. His- torically and logically the Lower or textual criticism precedes the Higher or literary and historical criticism. The first of these dis- ciplines, so-called merely because it naturally precedes the second, aims at a restoration of the text of the books of the Bible to a form nearly as accurate as scientific methods can bring it to the auto- graphs as these come from the hands and the pens of the Prophets and Apostles. The object is the same that a good classical scholar has when he edits a Thucydides or a Livy. The problem itself is entirely the same whether a scholar edits a Latin or Greek classic, or the New Testament books, and substantially the principles and meth- ods in both instances are identical. Only in the case particularly of the New Testament is the task more difficult, partly on account of the importance of the matter itself, where sometimes a single letter may change the reading of a whole verse, as in Luke ii, 14, and part- ly on account of the "embarrassment of riches" which are at the dis- posal of a New Testament editor, who, in addition to a mass and multitude of other excellent aids, has, as Gregory, in his new "Text- Kritik der Neuer Testaments," page 3, states, no fewer than three thousand Greek manuscripts alone, no two of which are absolutely alike throughout, but together, as Schaff, in his "Companion to CRITICAL MOA^EMEiN^TS. 159 the Greek Testament," page 177, shows, have about 150,000 vari- ants. Lower Criticism has for a century and more been trying to select from this immense number those wliich, according to acknowl- edged canons of literary criticisms, are probably the original read- ings of these books. It is a singular fact that the application of this science to the Bible text has all along met with more or less opposition, although in almost every particular textual criticism has rendered conserva- tive scholarship excellent services. A scrupulous examination of these tens of thousand of variants has demonstrated the fact that only about four hundred of them materially affect the sense; that not more than fifty are really important for one reason or the other; and that even of these fifty not one affects an article of faith or a moral precept which is not abundantly sustained by other and un- doubted passages and by the whole tenor of the Scriptural teach- ings. Ezra Abbot, the greatest textual critic of America, and as a Unitarian certainly not hampered by orthodox bias, declares that ''no Christian doctrine or duty rests on those portions of the text vv'hich are affected by differences in the manuscripts; still less is anything essential in Christianity touched by the various readings." Even if the textual criticisms of the nineteenth century had only rendered this negative service of demonstrating that the New Tes- tament is invulnerable from what seemed to be to many in former generations its weakest side, it is entitled to a high rank among the useful theological discipline. But its greatest service has been the positive work of furnishing what is practically a critical texhis re- ceptus and of having given us the New Testament books in a better and more trustworthy shape than any other century since the Apos- tolic period possessed them. The names that stand out prominently in this department of Bib- lical research during the present centuiy are especially those of Tischendorf, Tregelles and Wescott-IIort, although there are others who deserve mention, such as Scrivener, von. Gebhardt, Gregory, Weiss, Nestle and others. Nor has the work been entirely done dur- ing these hundred years. To a certain extent textual criticism, at least of the New Testament, is an inherited problem from preceding ages, which in men like Bengel have representative scholars in this respect. But the real work, and especially the development of scien- tific methods in this work, has been done in the nineteentb century, and in the combined efforts and practically uniform and almost unan- 160 CHRISTENDOM. imous resultant text of the Tischendorf, the Tregelles and the Wes- cott-Hort editions, we have the ripest and richest fruits of the cen- tury in reference to the New Testament text. It is true that not all of this work has been constructive in the sense that it has led in everything to a retention of the old but uncritical text of former gen- erations, but it has been constructive in this, that everywhere it has sought to restore what were really the ipsissima verba of the Biblical writers. Textual criticism has indeed eliminated the doxology of tlie Lord's Prayer, the closing verses of the Gospel of St. Mark, the peri- cope of the woman caught in adultery, in the fourth Gospel, the Trinity passage in John's Epistle ; but also these have been dropped simply because they are not in harmony with the contents of the best manuscripts. In the prosecution of this discipline, it is remarkable that the practical work has almost entirely crowded out the theoretical. It is only now, in the new book of Textual Criticism, by the famous American representative in the Leipzig Theological Faculty, Profes- sor Caspar Eene Gregory, that we are receiving a perfectly complete and satisfactory exposition of the facts, the principles and the prac- tices of New Testament textual criticism, although the Plain In- troduction of Scrivener and the smaller work of Warfield are good as far as they go. It is this lack of perfect clearness of the underly- ing principles that has to a greater or less extent given the results of the practical work in this department the appearance of some uncer- tainty. In the English school headed by Dean Burgon, the at- tempt was made, but in a very arbitrary manner, to undermine the principles and the results of the textual criticism of the times in favor of the old traditional readings throughout, especially attack- ing the authority of the leading older manuscripts, such as the Vaticanus, and the methods in vogue in estimating the weight and character of the variant readings of these sources. This school has virtually ceased to exist, but a new tendency hag sprung up, advo- cated especially by the classical philologian, Blass, of Halle, who, on the basis of the peculiar readings of the famous Codex Bezae, or D, in Cambridge, representing, with some Latin translations, a certain Oriental type of readings, maintains that Luke himself pub- lished two editions of both the Acts and of the third Gospel. This view concerning the prominence to be assigned to this codex has been expanded, particularly by Nestle, in his "Einfiihrung in das Neue Testament," and elsewhere, to the proposal that the entire New Tes- CEITICAL MOVEMENTS. 161 tiaineiit text should be revised in accordance with the D group of manuscripts. While some few, such as Zockler, of Greifswald, have in part at least expressed their agreement with the two-edition the- ory of Blass, the demand for a revision of the entire New Testa- ment text along new lines has found very little favor. Gregory (I. c, p. 47) declares it to be his judgment that "there is no justifica- tion for this tendency." The fact that the textual criticism of the century has produced tangible and satisfactory results in the shape of a critical reliable text — at any rate, as reliable as the vast abun- dance of facts and data at the disposal of modern learning can pos- sibly make — this is manifestly the rich fruits of investigation in this department, which is not the least rendered doubtful by the independent action of a few acknowledged scholars in reference to the New Testament text, notably the veteran and venerable Bemhard Weiss, of Berlin, who in an eclectic manner has recently, after con- tinuous labor of ten years, published a new edition of the entire New Testament canon. In the textual criticism of the Old Testament the object has been the same, namely, the restoration of the original readings as far as possible, but the means and methods of attaining this end have been different and the results attained have not been as substantial and successful as was the case in the New Testament field. In this latter department the chief critical helps were the manuscripts ; in the Old Testament textual criticism the manuscripts occupy a most subordi- nate position, and the first position in the critical apparatus of the text belongs to the old translations, especially the Septuagint or old Greek version. The reason for this lies in the singular fact that we have no manuscripts of any part or portion of the Hebrew text of the Old Testament earlier than the ninth or tenth Christian centuries, so that between the close of the Jewish canon and the oldest form extant of the written text a period of thirteen hundre_d and more years intervenes, while in the New Testament department the time between the Apostles' autographs and the earliest manuscripts is three hundred years or less, and the hope of some time discovering these autographs themselves has not altogether been discarded. Accord- ingly, the solution of the textual problem in the case of the Old Tes- tament became something quite different from that of the New, and respecting the former the old versions, at least the Greek of the Seventy, brought the text up to a few hundred years from the time that the latest books of the Hebrew canon were penned. But in this 162 CHRISTENDOM. unique character of the problem lay also its difficulty, as notliing could be done for the Old Testament text until the old versions themselves had been critically examined and edited. This is a peculiarly difficult task in the case of the Septuagint, as there are three recensions of tliis version, and the determination of which is the original form is as yet unsolved, although it has engaged the acumen of a Lagarde. On account of the immature shape and condi- tion of the critical helps that must be depended upon for work in this department, the critical work on the Old Testament text has been done rather tentatively and experimentally, and in many cases sub- jective reasonings have produced radical proposals not justified by any objective data in the sources. In most circles the conviction prevails that the Old Testament text, as it has been handed down to us traditionally by the Massoretie school, is substantially correct and requires little or no emendations ; and nothing that has been discov- ered in any literary source is hostile to this position. The changes that have been proposed in the Old Testament text are almost en- tirely those of conjectural criticism and have the common faults and failures of subjective methods of research. This is both the strength and the weakness of the text of the so-called "Eainbow"' or Poly- chrome Bible, edited by Professor Haupt, of the Johns Hopkins University, and prepared by an international company of savants. In so far as it amends the text there is rarely any ground except the convictions of the editor as to what the text ought to be. Even more radical are some of the efforts made at a revised text of par- ticular books by some other scholars, especially by Cornill in his edi- tion of Ezekiel, but much less by Workman in his Jeremiah. Well- hausen's emendations of the text of Samuel is a work of rare scholar- ship on one of the most difficult textual problems of the Old Testa- ment. But, taking all the researches together that have been made in reference to the text of the Old Testament, it can be fairly stated that no substantial reasons have been discovered for m.aking any material changes in this text. Negatively, at least, the Hebrew Mas- soretie text stands firmer now than ever. This is substantially the outcome of the textual researches in the Old Testament department. But the nineteenth has been eminently the century of Higher Criticism, and no theological movement has. aroused an interest equal in depth and width to that called forth by the methods and results of the higher critics. It has become the international prob- lem that vexas and perplexes Christianity. In marked contrast to CRITICAL MOVEMENTS. 163 Lower or textual criticism, the claims and teachings of the higher critics have penetrated the masses and the congregations, and there have met with favor or disfavor that is pronounced in its expression. Textual criticism has all along remained essentially the work of the theologian and the specialist, and it appealed but to a limited degree to the concern of the rank and the file of the ministry or the laity, who knew practically nothing of its workings except as some evi- dences appeared in new translations and especially omissions in the Revised Version. On the other hand Higher Criticism affects direct- ly the vital interests of Christianity at large. Such fundamentals as the inspiration and inerrancy of the Scriptures, the unity of their teachings, their reliability as sources of history and even of religious matters, are all more or less influenced by the spirit and the results of the Higher Criticism of the day. As a result, this science is a sign that is spoken against and in many cases its very right of existence is called into question. And yet all this opposition is really directed against the abuse, but not against the use, of the Higher Criticism. This discipline, rather, is an important and indispensable tool in the workshop of the student of God's word. Every thorough student of the Scrip- tures is and must be a higher critic. It is very unfortunate that this name has been popularly selected as a term of reproach, at least of distrust, for a theological discipline that belongs to the oldest sci- ences in this department. In reality it is no "higher" than textual criticism; these two auxiliaries of Bible study are co-ordinate, and not one the superior or inferior of the other. The term itself is rare- ly if ever applied to it by its friends or by those who cautiously or carefully make use of this discipline as the best interests of Biblical research demand. A much better term would be historical or his- torico-literary criticism, as this name would express the leading functions of the science. It is not a science with esoteri-e principles and processes for the discovery of truth not accessible to the ordi- nary Bible reader, but merely the application to the Scriptures of the critical canons that prevail in the interpretation of other literar}'^ works of antiquity or even of modem times. If, e. g.^ the student of Herodotus examines the writings of this historian in the light of what is known of their author, his times and surroundings, his lit- erary methods, and the records of the nations he describes, such a process is nothing but Higher Criticism. If, again, the student of Cicero's letters studies the historical surroundings of these writings, 164 CHRISTENDOM. as also their style, contents, etc., for the purpose of understanding all the better their real lessons, this again is nothing but Higher Criticism. The scholar who, like the late Professor Green or like Professors Hengstenberg and Keil, defends the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch on internal grounds is just as much a higher crit- ic as are those who from data drawn from such an analysis of these books maintain that they are productions of the post-Mosaic period. That which made the work done in this department so obnoxious to the great bulk of conservative Christians is the fact that this science has been handled not according to objective facts or principles, but that certain philosophical ideas and ideals have been injected into its application. In this way the New Testament school of Baur, of Tiibingen, which made the Christianity of the later books of the New Testament and of the Apostolic period the result of a compro- mise between two antagonistic principles or schools, the Jewish of Peter and the Gentile of Paul, that prevailed in the earliest church, was really nothing but the Hegelian philosophy of history applied to the New Testament records, the facts and contents of which were forced into the Procrustean bed of this philosophical scheme. In the same way the Wellhausen-Kuenen reconstruction of the Old Tes- tament religious development, which is now the battle ground of the contending hosts in Biblical science, is practically little more than the application of Darwinian natural selection in the interpretation of what the Old Testament books teach. It is this injection of philo- sophical subjectivism into the higher critical methods and manners that has aroused the antagonism which modem Higher Criticism, in its more or most radical phases, amply deserves. But the course of investigation has demonstrated that this Higher Criticism, when prosecuted along legitimate lines and in a sober and reasonable spirit, can be productive only of good. The history of the Baur or Tiibingen movement shows this beyond a doubt. A generation ago the New Testament was the field in which the higher critics operated, and where Christianity was attacked in its very essentials and fundamen- tals. Baur accepted only four of the Pauline Epistles as genuine, namely, Romans, the two Corinthians and Galatians ; all others were in hjs eyes spurious and forgeries, and on the basis of this readjust- ment of the literary sources of early Christianity he erected his theological scheme that virtually brought Christ's teachings and original Christianity in pronounced conflict with that of the New Testament literature and of the Christian Church. The most ex- CRITICAL MOVEMENTS. 165 treme radicalism of tliis school found its expression in the famous or rather infamous book of Strauss, "The Life of Christ," which practically reduced the records concerning the life and the teachings of Jesus to a myth. It was this school of higher critics that forced Christian scholars to investigate the sources of their creed and faith as never before. The New Testament itself, as the entire body of Patristic and early Christian literature, had to be examined anew with a detail investigation and research that had never obtained in theological science. And the result has bec^n more than beneficial to the church and its faith. The credibility and authenticity of the New Testament books now stand firmer than ever before; the re- newed examination of this field led to a gradual reaction against the radical proposals of the Tiibingen school and, above all, to a better knowledge of the real character of New Testament books and the grounds for their claim to be Apostolic and authoritative writings. What this counter movement and reinvestigation has led to can be best seen in three magnificent works that have appeared within the last few years, namely, the "Chronology of Early Christian Litera- ture," by the brilliant Harnack, of Berlin; the "Introduction to the New Testament," by the recently deceased Professor Godet, and the massive work of Professor Zahn, of Erlangen, with the same title. The latter two defend the New Testament books throughout and substantially as the church has believed in them for centuries, and particularly does the splendid work of Zahn deserve mention in this regard. Such a mastery of the original sources and such an abund- ance of data and details from the earliest sources, and all confirma- tory of the traditional views of the church in general, have never been equaled in theological lore, and stamp this grand work as one of the most learned that the world has ever produced. Harnack is generally regarded as an exponent of critical theolog}% and this esti- mate is correct. Yet he accepts the entire New Testament collection of books as authentic with the sole exception of Second Peter, al- though he does not regard the fourth Gospel in its present shape as the work of John, nor the Pastoral Epistles in the form in which we now possess them as penned by the Apostle Paul. Yet what a wonderful change there has been in this respect within recent years ! The tendency has been steadily and persistently in the direction of the older views, and the radical phases of New Testament Higher Criticism have been eradicated by the more moderate claim of schol- ars in this department. Not, indeed, in the sense that nothing of 166 CHRISTENDOM. Baur's teachings has been left. In all radical movements that show the least vitality and life there is an element of truth, the exaggera- tion and misinterpretation of which constitute the stock in trade. This element of truth always remains as a residuum when the radi- calism has been thoroughly filtered, and becomes a fixed fact in theo- logical science. The Tiibingen school emphasized as had never be- fore been done the different tendencies that prevailed in the early Christian Church, and the fact that there were in existence a Pauline theology, a Petrine theology and a Joannine theology in primitive Christianity is now admitted on all hands, but not in the sense of the Tiibingen school, as antagonistic tendencies, but as expressions of the one common faith, but from different points of view. There can be scarcely a doubt that when once the Old Testament discus- sions shall have advanced to the stage which the New has attained, that then, too, the element of truth in the Wellhausen theory will be acknowledged and become a permanent possession of Christian theology. That this controversy and debate has already been pro- ductive of much good in certain directions is an undeniable fact. The historical side of the Scriptures; the fact that they are not only a revelation, but also the history of a revelation ; the gradual devel- opment of this revelation through various historical phases and stages ; the connection of the Old Testament books with the thought and the life of the times that produced them, and especially the un- derstanding of the externals of the Scriptures, such as history, chron- ology, archaeology, etc., in the light of the recovered treasures from the ruins of the former civilizations of the Nile and the Tigris-Eu- phrates valleys — all these and many more things are better under- stood concerning the Old Testament now than ever before. A proper estimate, however, of this additional knowledge can only be made when it is remembered that all the new sources that the Higher Criticism of the times has made available cannot and do not touch what must be for the church the main and the chief things in the Scriptures, namely, the revelation of the mysteries of God, the Trin- ity, the Personal Work of Christ, the Plan of Salvation, Atonement, Justification, Sanctification, etc. — all these have gained nothing through the external sources to which Higher Criticism appeals, and only to a limited extent by the internal criticism and investigations as conducted by this school. In both the New and the Old Testament Higher Criticism, much stress has been laid on the literary analyses of the various books, and. CRITICAL MOVEMENTS. 167 indeed, tMs has been made the basis for the different theories that have been advanced. The father of this tendency was the French Roman Catholic physician, Astruc, who in his work on the "Sources Which Moses Seems to Have Employed in the Composition of the Pentateuch" sounded the keynote of the whole modern criticism. This principle of an analysis of a book into parts of which it is claimed to have been composed has been applied in the Old Testa- ment much more than in the ISTew. In the latter, serious attempts in this direction have been made only in the case of the Acts and the Apocalypse, although a similar process is advocated for Second Corinthians and a few other books. In the New Testament depart- ment the chief literary question is the Synoptic Problem, which seeks to determine the literary dependence or independence of the three Synoptic Gospels. The outcome has been this, that the largest consen- sus favors the older form of Mark — Ur-Markus — and the "Sayings" of Matthew, a Hebrew collection of quotations from Christ's teach- ings, as the basis of the three Gospels as we have them now in their canonical form. In the Old Testament the analytical method has been applied to almost every book, and in some cases, as in the Pen- tateuch, the Book of Isaiah, the Psalms, has led to entirely new ad- justment of the contents of these books and their place in Hebrew literature and their teachings concerning the development of the Old Testament religion. In the Wellhausen scheme the Levitical system is the last element in the literature of the Old Testament, this scheme thus literally turning topsy-turvy the common and tra- ditional view of the church as founded on the position taken by the Jews of the New Testament period and by the Christ and His Apos- tles. The nineteenth century has thus brought to a certain and satisfac- tory close the work of investigating the New Testament, although naturally much yet remains to be done in details and particulars. It has given us an excellent critical text of the New Testament on the basis of the best sources extant; and it has given us the best defence of the New Testament books that the world has ever seen. In the Old Testament such progress has not yet been made, neither in Lower nor in Higher Criticism. The latter is still the great de- batable land between the conservative and the advanced scholar, and the twentieth century will have much work yet to do in this field, notwithstanding the fact that the advocates of the more or less radi- cal type of Old Testament research are accustomed to claim that 168 CHRISTENDOM. their teachings are the "sure" result of accurate scientific methods. They are constantly being attacked by those who favor older views, and it can fairly be stated that a reaction against them has set in. As 3'et this reaction is — at least in Germany, whic J has been the headquarters of all innovations in this department for decades — confined to the rank and file of the church, and has not yet reached the universities. At these centres of thought there are indeed many opponents of radicalism and friends of evangelical and positive Bib- lical science; but none of these is willing to defend the old posi- tions, such as the verbal inspiration of the Scriptures, the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, the composition of Isaiah xl-lxvi, by the prophet of that name, etc. But even at the universities the sober second thought is beginning to exhibit itself in connection with detail researches, and the prospects are that it will prove con- tagious and spread, as was the case among the New Testament men. Outside of the purely Biblical department, no critical movement of the nineteenth century equals in importance that which is con- nected with the name of Albrecht Kitsehl, of the University of Got- tingeu, Germany. This is the new theology in the systematic field and has become practically an international school. Eitschl is the only theologian in Germany who, since the days of Schleierraacher, has managed to found a distinct "school," his only possible rival in this regard being Von Hofmann, of Erlangen. At bottom there is a deep-seated connection between the tendencies of modern theologi- cal thought as seen in the Biblical sciences and the new liberal the- ology of Eitschl. The greatest difference is this, that the former is based largely on the philosophy of the Darwinian school, while the latter is founded on the system of Kant. The great Kcinigsberg philosopher wrote three leading works, namely, his "Critique of Pure Eeason," his "Critique of Practical Eeason" and his "Eeligion. Within the Limits of Pure Reason." These three books complete and round off his whole system. The aim of the first work is to prove that all knowledge through perception (Erkenntniss) is con- fined to the range of our experience ; and that consequently the doc- trines of our religion, since these belong to a supernatural domain, cannot thus form the objects of knowledge proper. At tlie same time, Kant maintains that we are thus compelled to look to a sub- jective source for the fundamental conceptions of religion. To find these is the purpose of the second book, where it is maintained that in our natural consciousness we have immediate and imperative con- CRITICAL MOVEMENTS. 169 ceptions of a duty to observe a moral law, to accept God, freedom and immortality, not as objects of knowledge, but as moral postu- lates, i. c, as the necessary preconditions of the moral law. The ac- tual results of this theoretical standpoint Kant gives in his third book. These fundamental positions of Kant, who holds in history the position of a father of rationalism, especially of that type of ethical rationalism which seeks, in a moral system demanded by conscious- ness, a substitute for the doctrines and dogmas of the Scriptures which the adherents of this school decline to accept — these positions have been adopted and applied to systematic theology by Eitschl, who has thus developed the leading ethico-systematic school of the century. His fundamental positions are these: (1) Metaphysics, being the science of things in themselves, are to be excluded from theology proper. We can know an agent only by its actions, and theology has to do only with Werturtheile, i. e.. Judgments as to what a fact is worth to us practically, not with Seinsurtheile, i. e., judgments of what the thing actually is. We can know what the benefits of the life and work of Christ are, but the real knowledge as to His superhuman being and character we cannot know. In this way the common definitions of theological science become something entirely new in the Ritschl system, the Divinity of Christ, e. g., being only an expression for this idea, that He completely revealed God to the world according to the ethical purposes of God, and that He exercises ethical world supremacy. It is on this ground that the common charge is made against this system that it "empties" the central doctrines of Christianity of their positive and objective con- tents and puts in its place a moral system after the manner of the Kantian "Categorical Imperative" without the necessary Biblical and dogmatical substructure. But it is just this feature that makes it so attractive to younger minds who would like to accept the nega- tive teachings of modern criticism and not discard the positive ele- ments of the Christian system. This system seemingly solves the anomaly of much of modern advanced theology, which, as the Ger- man philosopher Jacobs says, demands that its adherents "must be Christians in their hearts, but unbelievers in their heads." The Eitschl system has captured the younger element in the theological world, not only in Germany, but also in French Switzerland and France proper (where it appears in the form of la theologie de la con- science, or the theology of consciousness), and to a certain extent in 170 CHRISTENDOM. England, America and the Scandinavian countries. Its second the- sis is equally attractive, viz., (2) Religion and religious knowledge are based exclusively on ethical principles, which decides the funda- mentally ethical character of this new theology. With the sole exception of the Ritschl school, the nineteenth cen- tury has produced no distinctly ethical movement of a theoretical character that can claim to have made a decided impression on the thought of the age as such. Ethical problems have indeed engaged the attention of the theological and religious world, but usually in the shape of practical work. In this respect the nineteenth has been a century of progress in every direction, but in all such cases the actual work precedes the theoretical discussion of its principles. Thus, e. g., this has certainly been the greatest missionary century since the days of the Apostles and the mission literature has been simply enormous, but it has only been in the last year or two that we have received the first systematic presentation of the principles and practices of missions as a science, this three-volume work being from the pen of the greatest living authority in this line, Professor G. Warneck, of the University of Halle. In a similar manner the actual problems of Christian Sociology are receiving marked atten- tion everywhere, in America, in Germany, in England, and that by all the leading churches, the Roman Catholic included; but a system of Christian Sociology has not yet been forthcoming and the move- ment has not yet attained the dignity of an independent phase of international modern theological thought. Other movements, such as that of Tolstoi in Russia and Nietsche in Germany, which aini at a change in the estimate of fundamental Christian ethical values, by that very fact are excluded from the category of Christian ethical agitations. Indeed, the work in this department has been nearly all of a practical kind, and in this respect the nineteenth century has a good record. Its chief work has been in the line of Biblical science, in which it has accomplished excellent results, but still leaves some leading problems, especially of Old Testament criticism and Biblical theology, for the twentieth to investigate. THE RELIGIOUS PRESS. Wm. C. Gray, Ph.D., LL.D., CHtCAGO. [The religious paper, however its methods may be modified, is a permanent form of journalism. The secular paper may pay increased attention to news of the churches ; but, even though it should ultimately publish a weekly re- ligious supplement — some day a newspaper proprietor will open his eyes and discover that there are as many people interested in religion as in literature — it can never make the definitely and aggressively religious organ unnecessary. For it is not a mere matter of news, but a question of tone and of standpoint. As Dr. Dunning puts it : "The great interests of the church, ethical, socio- logical, educational and missionary, have become essential elements of nation- al life." These cannot be understood except by men who have given them careful study. Then it is impossible for any one paper to present the creedal distinctions which prevail. Still less could it deal adequately with theological problems, or supply devotional reading that would be acceptable in all quar- ters. There is no reason, however, why there should not be a further grouping o£ literary effort among churches that are nearly allied. For example, the churches in England federated in the Free Church Council have enough in common to make such a union possible. The vast distances in this country will always prevent any Eastern weekly paper from cii-culating all over the United States to the same degree that a London paper circulates all over the United Kingdom. But if at Chicago, for example, there were published one strong, well-endorsed and well-equipped religious weekly, representing these various churches in the Middle West in the same way that "The Chris- tian World" represents the Nonconformists of England, would it not exert a far stronger force in the promotion of righteousness than is at present exercised by all the religious papers of that city put together? The facility with which a minister in America passes from one denomination to another suggests the possibility of a larger union in literary enterprise than at present exists. Tliis further appears possible in view of the growing tendency for denominational papers to be less destructive than formerly. As Henry Ward Beecher put it : to regard such differences as lines instead of walls. Yet the denominational periodical, whatever may be its future, has made in the past a valuable contribution to popular education ; not only giving an intellectual and a religious stimulus to its readers, but also in affording a literary training to its contributors. — H. W. Horwill ; "The Forum," July, 1901.— Ed.] 171 172 CHKISTENDOM. The first printed sheet taken off movable types was a text of Scripture, and the first printed book was the Bible. Therefore the press belongs to religion by right of discovery and occupation. The beginnings of all literatures are wholly religious. The first poems were inspired by religion. So, also, the first traces of paint- ing, the first outlines of sculpture, first masses of architecture, were inspired by religious longings. And so I might proceed with the whole round of the activities and achievements of the mind of man. So, also, I might show that the highest reaches in all the conquests of knowledge over the earth, over the seas and amid the starry heav- ens, were inspired and nerved by religion. I am justified in be- lieving a truth which can be arrived at by other paths of thought, that the crowning triumph of the journalistic art is to be the re- ligious newspaper. The periodical press is a development out of the pamphlet. The pamphlet was originally a weapon of polemics. But as polemics and politics were intimately blended, so the pamphlet was an admixture of politics and religion. John Milton was the king of pamphleteers. His theme was God first, and then human rights. The first periodi- cal newspaper, whatever may have been its character, was called the "Acta Diurna," and was published in manuscript in Rome, 1438-40. The first secular newspaper was either the "Frankfort Journal" or the "Neuremburg Gazette." They first appeared almost simultane- ously, in the year 1457. The name "Neuremburg" suggests the fact that the topics which occupied the "Gazette" were not only religious, but religion in helmet and cuirass. The chief secular interest in Neuremburg was soon after the battle of the Eeformation. But the newspapers, as time progressed, became more and more secular, and religious topics were left to the pulpit. The first conception of a distinctly religious newspaper occurred to the mind of a secular journalist, Mr. Nathaniel Willis, of Bos- ton, editor and publisher of the "Argus." Willis happened to hear a sermon preached by Rev. Edward Payson, in the year 1808, which convicted him of sin, and brought him to Christ. In those times the battle between the Federalists and Republicans was very trucu- lent and bitter. Willis was a Republican, and when it came to poli- tical lying and vituperation he took a back seat for no man. But on confessing Christ, he promptly reformed, refused to lie or to en- gage in blackguardism, and made the "Argus" an honest and a gen- tlemanly paper. The result was general dissatisfaction in tlie ranks THE RELIGIOUS PRESS. 173 of Ms party. They told him that he was milk and water, that he was either priest-ridden or turning Federalist, and that if he did not make a more spirited paper they would start another. He did not know what so many yet fail to perceive, that religion and stupidity are not conditions precedent of each other; so he sold out to them; and rightly thinking that it would require money to make a success of his new enterprise, went into the grocery business for a time. But here his conscience again defeated him. The prin- cipal profit of the trade then was in the staple of New England rum, and Willis would not sell rum. At that time if there was a minis- ter in that region who did not buy and drink rum, he kept his blue light under a bushel. I suppose that Willis must have been regarded as a religious crank and fanatic. He had an idea that lying would form no part of the spirit of the religious newspaper. But he was doomed to disappointment, as many a man has since been. He was maligned to the day of his death, and the attempt made to wrest his honors from him. Willis did not realize his idea till eight years after he had laid the plan before his spiritual adviser. Dr. Payson. His first issue was dated January 3, 1816. The paper lived till the year 1871. when it was merged in the "Boston Congregationalist," but the name of the "Recorder" is still kept at the mast-head. Willis died in 1870. While Willis was trying to make money enough to float his pro- posed "Recorder," strange to say his seed thought had been blown across the woody wilderness, hundreds of miles, and fallen in the rich alluvium of the Scioto. Ohio was then mostly a dense forest. The deer, the wolf, the bear, the panther and the wild turkey everywhere abounded. It was the paradise of the hunter and the fisherman. No wonder that the first religious paper, amid surroundings so con- genial, was a success. The irons for a wooden Ramage press had been packed across the mountains for the Territorial Government, then located at Chillicothe, and on this old press — now, I believe, in the "Gazette" office in Cincinnati — Rev. John Andrews printed his "Christian Recorder." This was in 1814, or nearly two years before Willis was able to get out his "Christian Recorder." An- drews not only took Willis's idea, but the name, also. The "Record- er" was moved to Pittsburgh, and became the "Presbyterian Ban- ner." The two "Recorders" were quickly followed by a brood of religious papers, and many hundreds have since been born to die — to die in sweet, confiding infancy : 174 CHRISTENDOM. Happy infants, early blest, Rest in peaceful slumber, rest : Early rescued from the cares Which increase with growing years. The religious newspaper is the form in which journalism is to achieve its highest and finest development. It is highly interesting to notice the changes which have already taken place in its charac- ter. The early forms were wholly sermonie. They were hortatory, homiletic, polemic — simply the pulpit of the times in print. The names indicited their character. They were the Eecorders, Observ- ers, Expositors, Evangelists, Presbyters, Advocates — the whole line of names expressive of ponderosity was exhausted. Then came the Presbyterian, Baptists, Methodists, and other denominational news- paper names. In every instance they were edited by ministers, and in no instance evinced journalistic skill. They were heavy and sol- emn. Anything like levity was regarded as inappropriate as it would be in the pulpit. There was plenty of good thought in them, but no vivacity. The two departments of heavy leaders and long obituaries fitted them for the solemn and penitential hours of the Sabbath. The general character of the religious press will be more and more of the popular kind. Competition has become so intense, and popu- lar taste has become so appreciative and refined, that higher jour- nalistic skill will constantly be in demand. The day for doing editorial work as a side issue has passed forever. The religious press hereafter will seek for the best brains, the finest training, and the best natural aptitude, and with these a capacity for endurance and intense application. Tennyson says that he has applied himself closely for two hours to write one line. George Eliot wrote but sixty lines per day. The successful religious jour- nalist of the future will put in work something like that. The ris- ing culture will demand it, and it will get what it demands. The higher-class English journals are working for this degree of ex- cellence. The "London Times" allows members of its editorial staff only three hours of working time per day. They are required to come fresh from sleep, and with only a glass of tea or claret, to their desks, and at the end of throe hours they must hand over their work and leave the office. The result is those editorials, impressive as a thundercloud, but instinct with lightning, which gave the great paper its name. Now, contrast with these the editorials of the THE RELIGIOUS PRESS. 175 "London Spectator." They are almost equal to the essays of Addi- son in the old "Spectator" in classical finish, and yet in materials and force they are, if anything, superior to those of the "London Times." The difference lies in this, that the "Spectator" is a week- ly, and after these editorials have been poured red-hot into their sandy molds, they are allowed to cool, and then subjected to careful polishing. The "Spectator" is not a large paper, and it is plainly issued — the cost of manufacture not being half what it would be in Chicago, and yet they charge thirteen cents per copy for it — nearly ♦seven dollars a year. The work is not magazine or review writing, but newspaper writing of the highest class. There is nothing ap- proaching to this in religious Journalism, but there will be, and there ought to have been before now. The religious press is often spoken of as a means of great influ- ence, but he who regards his paper as a means for giving him per- sonal influence is a politician, not an editor; and in seeking to save his life thus, he is dead sure to lose it. The editor has no time, nor ambition, for anything but his art. He seeks to make a first- class paper in every particular. He sees nothing bevond the four walls of his sanctum, and he works for excellence, not for influence. An established paper, like any of the first-class religious journals, is a creation of slow growth, but it is practically indestructible, and it is very foolish for an individual, or any number of them, to make a crusade against it. Fortunately the tendency of the work is to make the editor teachable, if he be a man of true piety and honesty. I asked my neighbor, Mr. Edward Goodman, proprietor of "The Standard," what his object was in newspaper work. "First," he said, "to promote spiritual life; and, second, to advance the inter- ests of the denomination. I never think," he said, "of the moneyed revenue, except to that end." Editor Major Robinson says: "The object of a religious news- paper is to stimulate the piety and elevate the morality of its con- stituency, and to furnish the family with wholesome and instructive reading." Editor Dr. Smith says: "We should make it an object to provide a complete family paper — to furnish all the kinds of reading most needed in the family. It should be first of all religious, because ^Religion is the chief concern of mortals.' While it should give its denominational intelligence freely, it should have all the religious intelligence which tends to teach, stimulate and guide." ROMAN CATHOLIC CHRISTIANITY. Rev. a. p. Doyle, Paulist Fathers^ NEW YORK. [The following is the profession of faith made on joining the Catholic Church. It is received by a priest before the altar, though not necessarily in presence of the congregation. It is omitted when the convert has not previously had any form of baptism : I, , having before my eyes the holy Gospels, which I touch with my hand, and knowing that no one can be saved without that faith which the Holy, Catholic, Apostolic Roman Church holds, believes, and teaches, against which I grieve that I have greatly erred, inasmuch as I have held and believed doctrines opposed to her teachings — I now, with grief and contrition for my past errors, profess that I believe fhe Holy, Catholic, Apostolic Roman Church to be the only and true Church established on earth by Jesus Christ, to which I submit myself with my whole heart. I believe all the articles that she proposes to my belief, and I reject and condemn all that she rejects and condemns, and I am ready to observe all that she commands me. And especially, I profess that I believe: One only God, in three divine persons, distinct from, and equal to, each other — that is to say, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost ; The Catholic doctrine of the Incarnation, Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ : and the personal union of the two Natures, the divine and the human ; the divine Maternity of the most holy Mary, together with her most spotless Virginity ; The true, real, and substantial presence of the Body and Blood, together with the Soul and Divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the most Holy Sac- rament of the Eucharist ; The seven Sacraments instituted by Jesus Christ for the salvation of man- kind ; that is to say, Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Penance, Extreme Unction, Order, Matrimony ; Purgatorj-, the Resurrection of the dead. Everlasting life ; The Primacy, not only of honor but also of jurisdiction, of the Roman Pontiff, successor of St. Peter. Prince of the Apostles, Vicar of Jesus Christ ; The veneration of the saints, and of their images ; The authority of the Apostolic and Ecclesiastical Traditions, and of the Holy Scriptures, which we must interpret and understand only in the sense which our holy mother the Catholic Church has hold, and does hold ; And everything else that has been define